been working lately, how is lil dude
A little insight into how and what your dog may feel when you are gone.
Every morning, the jingling keys signal another goodbye. My human pats my head, whispers promises of return, and closes the door behind them. As the silence settles in, I feel a quiet emptiness creep into our home, filling every corner where we usually share laughter, play, and companionship.
At first, there's a moment of confusion and anticipation—perhaps today is the day they'll quickly return, having forgotten something important, like extra pats or another loving scratch behind my ears. But as the minutes turn into hours, that hope gently fades, leaving me curled up on their favorite spot on the couch, comforted by the faint warmth they've left behind.
Throughout the day, I drift between sleep and quiet contemplation. I listen to distant sounds, ears perked up, hoping each approaching step or passing car means my best friend is back. I miss the playful mornings, the comforting voice, and even the gentle reprimands when curiosity leads me astray.
Yet, despite these moments of longing, I wait patiently. Because deep down, I trust they'll always return. And when the door finally swings open, flooding our home with familiar scents and joyful greetings, all those lonely moments instantly fade away. My tail wags uncontrollably, my heart leaps, and once again, I'm the happiest dog alive—because my human is home.