[dropcap]S[/dropcap]he sleeps beside my bed. That’s her spot, every single night.
I’m not sure how we became such good friends. After all, we don’t have much in common, not really, We don’t speak the same language, we don’t eat the same things. And she never cleans up after herself.
Furthermore, her breath stinks, and she chews with her mouth open. She’s selfish, she’s greedy, impulsive, lazy, wasteful, and she always has to be the center of attention.
One more thing, and it embarrasses me to say it; she steals.
She has no sense of guilt, like I do. None. When she lays her head down to sleep, she feels no remorse for her sins. She doesn’t even know what sins are.
If she did, she’d probably try to eat them.
I wish you knew her, then you’d know what I’m talking about. You’d see how demanding she is. Then, you’d ask me how I put up with such a spoiled creature. Or why.
And I wouldn’t be able to come up with a good answer.
Because the truth is, sometimes I get this feeling. And I get it a lot, when I watch her sleep. I think about the ten dogs I’ve had in my life. How they’ve gone on to the other side without me, one by one. I remember their open-mouthed smiles, and their favorite toys. I still have their collars. I wish they were all right here with me. Right now. I’d like to feel their love just one more time.
When I see her sleeping beside my bed, I do.