Doggies

I missed Molly this winter, when my feet were cold and she was not there to lay on them.

I miss Molly at night when there is no stinky dog paw in my face.

I miss Molly in the morning, when she is not there to snuggle up on the bed with me for a morning belly rub.

I missed Molly this spring, when there are no chewed up sticks in the front yard to clean up.

I miss Molly in the afternoon, when she's not there barking at the door to come in.

I miss Molly in the morning, when she's not there barking at the door to come in.

I miss Molly in the evening, when her soulful eyes are not staring at me from the other end of the couch.

I miss Molly on the couch, when her head is not there on my leg claiming me as hers.

I miss Molly's warm, dry, not right nose.

I miss Molly's incessant, high-pitched, irritating barking.

I miss Molly's refusal to go outside when she knew there food to be had.

I miss Molly's fear of the smoke alarm (which were all disabled while she was alive).

I miss Molly lying on the bathmat while I took a shower.

I miss Molly's smile when I come home.

I miss Molly's floppy ears.

I miss Molly's huge furry paws.

I miss Molly's stinky farts.

I miss Molly's snoring and groaning as she slept.

I miss Molly in her chair.

I miss the tip of Molly's tail wagging when she would see me come in the room, or hear my voice from another room.

I miss Molly.