As I pulled the pillow cases off my slumber clouds, I then understood the meaning “tear stained.”
Mascara smudges were painted all over from my tears that wouldn’t stop leaking out of my eyes - even in my sleep.
My beloved Pye is gone and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Thankfully he passed in his sleep in his favorite sleepy spot.
But I wasn’t ready. Are you ever?
We cleaned the house the next day. Anxious energy fueling the frenetic movement around the house. I thought seeing his fuzz in the corners of rooms would upset us.
I’m sure it would have, but now the house is too clean.
It’s too quiet.
I expect to see him around the corner. Any pile of clothing looks like him. At 10:30 pm I miss him telling me it’s time to go to bed. Time to scratch his face and belly and fall asleep petting him.
I am heartbroken.
Ps. Doodle bug
