(no subject)
She wasn't there when I opened my eyes and stretched out, and she should've been. She should've breathed in a deep sigh and stretched too, and crawled upwards until my fingers touched her head. She should've flopped to her side and groaned happily, so I could scratch her and we could lie there sleepily until it got too hot or one of us got restless and made the other one get up. It's spring and we should've gone walking outside.
I miss my friend.
I have to do a lot of laundry, and she's on every bit of fabric I own. It's the worst thing about having pets, the goddamned hair. I've had dogs my whole life, and I've always had to shake my clothes off before I wash them. But now it's her I'm shaking off, and I hate it. And I want to tell her "I'm not getting rid of you". You know that, right? I never wanted to be rid of you. I know it hurt to go to the vet. They cut you and prodded you and poked you, and you couldn't know they were trying to help. You were scared, and in pain, and you looked at me and I told you to lie still, and you did, because you trusted me, and I let them hurt you. And I'm sorry. And I miss you.
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