Callie was a light sleeper for a dog.
I’d move from bed and she’d pop her head up.
“Where you going,” her eyes asked.
“I’m not leaving Callie. I just have to use the bathroom.”
This happened every time.
She feared abandonment so much that even a piss break was too much.
She was a dog, but like everyone else, she needed love around at all times, as much as possible.
I needed to be there.
Eliza needed to be there.
Shiloh needed to be there too.
She may not have lead on that she loved his company the way she loved ours, but her feelings were clear for him.
Those dogs always managed to be around each other.
I’d come back from peeing and Callie’s tail would wag.
It’d give the bed a thumping.
“I told you I’d be back.”
“I wasn’t sure,” her eyes said next.
Shiloh jumped on the bed and joined her in her curiosity.
The dogs took up most of the room but I preferred them there than on the floor.
What’s comfort worth when you’re alone?
Callie realized that.
Shiloh realized that.
And so did I.
Joseph is a writer from Long Island, NY. He writes new poetry daily on his Instagram page.