Grief

I open my eyes and gaze across to the empty side of the bed to the alarm clock and notice a thin coat of grey dust. It’s 6:30 a. m. Fella is already grabbing the covers with his teeth, shaking and growling at me to get up. Unlike me, he slept all night, undisturbed by the remote in my hand, clicking away searching for something of interest that will take my mind off of the grief that keeps me sleepless. I move and Fella jumps off the bed and stares at me until I have my feet on the floor. He follows me to the bathroom and watches as I slowly get ready to take him out for his run. He is so patient. I feel as if I’m accused. It’s been 2 weeks since he passed from this earthly realm for eternity. I’ve used all the verses that remind me of how wonderful it is for him. Anger over takes me once again, “How could you do this? Leave me? How?” My outbursts no longer bother Fella. He turns his head to one side staring at me, waiting for me to calm. “Come on sweet baby dog.” I put his leash on and we are out the door. Our run consists of walking, stop, sniff, run, and stop to sniff again through the neighborhood. Until without any cue from me he heads back to the house on the corner. Will it ever feel like home again?
Fiction

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