Paws for thought
I disembark from my vehicle, lunchbox in hand the same as always. I look to the window of the house for his face but he is not there. Just as the usual sense of excitement I feel whilst driving back was not there because I knew I wasn’t going to see my boy when I got home.
I turn the key, walk in the hallway and I open the kitchen door. No patter of paws on the lino, no scratches on the leg. No need for me to bend down as there is no licks in the face on offer tonight — so this is what it’s like not having a dog in your life. His bed is empty, save for his toys. There is so many of them. There’s probably another handfull scattered about the house in his favourite haunts and the same amount again out in the back garden.
I boil the kettle and get the keys to the back door without thinking; he usually goes out to go to the toilet and has a sniff around. I’m a bit hungry tonight so I make a sandwich. As I sit at the table I’m not subjected to the usual nudging and sighing. It’s amazing how much I miss something that can be annoying at times. To be honest it’s kind of boring sitting here without him. I am a glutton, but it looks like it really was his company moreso than the cup of tea or snack that I was staying up for when I got home every night.
I wash my empty cup and plate in the sink with my lunch boxes, listening to a podcast like I always do. Only this time he isn’t at my side, or sticking his head between my legs or sitting on my feet. My Fiancée says he should have been called Shadow. When I’m finished I go to freshen up his bowl of water. Again I have to check myself.
Usually, when I go to bed I leave a light on for him. Now, I stand at the door and pause. I suppose I better turn it off, there’s no need to leave it on tonight. This is the weirdest part of the whole experience. It gives me pause for thought.
I can’t wait to see his little face and his wagging tail when I pick him up in the morning.
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