I came home to an empty house-
And for the first time I noticed how much stuff I had for you.
Dog treats on top of the crate.
Flea medicine in the cabinet.
Brand new balls you never got to play with.
A “reserved for the dog” pillow sitting on the oversized chair you loved so much.
I cried like a baby cleaning up the mess you’d left in your crate before I rushed you to the vet;
And for the first time in my life I didn’t want to clean up the dog hair on my floors.
I got angry that I even had to.
You no longer greet me as soon as I walk through the door-
And because of it I now loathe having to leave my house for anything,
because I don’t want to come back when I do.
Your stuff is now neatly piled in the corner where your crate had been;
It was too damaged after the seizures to stand properly and I had to take it down.
I haven’t sat on my couch since the first night when I curled up in your spot and sobbed before falling asleep.
It’s all so unbearable.
And I have to go through it again so soon after losing my dad.
Every room in this house makes me cry.
Every single one of them;
Because I came home to an empty house after I had to say goodbye to you and for the first time-
I see you everywhere and nowhere at all.
