It’s been a month,  sweetie.
You’ve been gone a month. 
I still look for you every morning.
Then I realise.
You’re gone.

I still call out for you when I want to annoy you or just lay down with you.
I still think you’ll be there barking when I get home,  because you can’t wait for me to open the door and give you a hug.

You’re the closest thing I had to a sister. You and Pepsi,  both. But she’s been gone a while and you were all I had.

Whenever the boys starts barking, I expect you to follow, but then I remember.

I’ve been told repeatedly that I should stop reminding myself you’re gone because you’re not. You’ll always be here,  he says,  but I didn’t realise that till now.

Yes,  I don’t get to hug you or use you as a pillow anymore, but you were and always will be the loudest,  smartest and prettiest member of this family. And no matter what,  you’re always in our hearts. I understand that only now.

Yes,  every time I run downstairs looking for you,  I will tell myself you’re gone. But I mean that only physically. You’re still here,  forever. In my heart. And I will always love you.

Sometimes I wish we hadn’t made the decision we did. Yes,  you were in pain. A lot of it. But,  you were still a happy dog. I get selfish,  because I would do anything to hold you tight right now, but that’s for me,  not for you. You’d still be in pain. So, I guess it was the best thing for you. You lived a full,  happy,  hyper life. You made an impact on so many lives,  and you will forever be missed. I don’t know what comes after death and I don’t know what to believe,  but I hope with all my heart that you’re in a happier and painless place. I love you,  sweetheart.