His blankets. The only toy he actually didn’t destroy. His kennel. His Superman collar. His treats. His water bowl. His food bowl. His hair. My “walking Oliver” shoes by the door. The quick clean-up of small food drops while cooking. The physical touch. The getting up for no other reason than to make sure he gets to frolic in the grass and relieve himself. The car trips. The side eye when I’m talking too loud/too much while he’s trying to sleep. The watching TV when he’s interested. The huffing and stomping his feet when I’m not “listening” to him. The one random light left on because it’s dark when I come home from work. My “I have to go check on my dog” when I need/want an escape. His hugs when he knows. His hugs when he doesn’t know. His kisses when I need them. His kisses when he needs them.
In this space. No longer in this space. I’m devastated.Â
