It's been four days since Gremlin passed away and everywhere I turn, I still expect to see him. Every time I get up from a chair, I look down to make sure I don't step on him, because he used to love lying down around my feet.
I only emptied his water bowl out yesterday. I wake up in the morning and can almost swear I hear his occasional quiet barks, demanding to be let out of the kitchen.
Every time I eat in the breakfast nook, I see that
spot, where his still body lay for the last time, his eyes wide and staring without life.
There are fewer triggers that set me crying, but it still aches inside. I miss my little pup.