Written by Danielle Ainne Gogh

I don’t see you anymore. Not since you took most of your things with you and said goodbye to me. I didn’t understand then why tears were trickling down your cheeks. I didn’t know why you felt so sad, so I did the thing that always seemed to cheer you up: I tackled you down and kissed your face until you laughed again.

That day feels like an eternity away. I remember how I tried to run after the big vehicle that took you, but it was so fast, even faster than me. I’m waiting everyday for you to come back. Every morning, I stand by the gates and hope and hope and hope that I’ll be able to smell your scent even before I see your figure running towards me. Every night, I sleep on your bed where your smell is the strongest.

The other humans try to cheer me up occasionally. They rub my belly, but they can’t find the perfect spot. Only you could. When they eat, no one sneakily gives me food under the table. I miss the times when you used to do that. Unlike you, they don’t like being licked on the face. They don’t play with me, they don’t let me sleep in their room, and they don’t want to give me baths. Where are you? I want to do everything with you again.

Today the sky is crying and making loud sounds, but you’re not here to hug me under the blankets. So I’m settled on the spot where we used to play and sleep and eat and do everything. I stay here for a long, long time, waiting for you to come back. Waiting for you to feed me my favorite treats and rub that special spot on my belly. Waiting for you to tell me that I’m a good girl and that you’ll never leave me again.

I don’t see you anymore. I can’t hear your voice calling out my name. I can’t smell you anywhere, just the faint scent coming off from the things that you left here. I miss you. I wish you’d come home.