One Month

A month ago when the vet told me over the phone it was best if I put you down, I agreed.

She asked if I could get there quickly.

My heart sank, "no".  

I sobbed when I hung up the phone, and a deep well has been in my stomach ever since.

I've been home without you for two weeks.

 I expect to see your little paw under the bathroom door when I get out of the shower in the morning.   I expect to find you sunning in various places in the house as you follow the sun.  I think I hear your meows late an night, and your paws on the floorboards as I try to sleep below. 

I expect you to climb over writers during my meetings in the living room.

I expect you everywhere.  This was, after all, your house.

You occupied every inch with your big, humorous personality.

 I still can't believe you're not just on an extended romp in the canyon.

I can't believe you're really gone.