Tobble Dobble the Lonely

She drags her elderly weary form to the brown circular bed. She sits upon the dusty hardwood floor, staring at the empty bed. Canine tears slowly slide down her brown and white face as she gazes at the place where he use to lie, his feline form curled around her body. Sometimes if she looks close enough, she can still see his ghostly form softly purring in her ear. Oh the countless times, he would crawl in bed beside her, disturbing her delightful rest and her heavenly dreams of ice cream, hamburgers, and other unearthly delights. Oh how she would growl at him when he would knead his way into her bed, all the while knowing her true feelings for him. Oh how she loved him, how she cared for him like one old friend for another, all the years they shared, all the times they shared the same bed together. My god how she wishes he were still there to knead his way beside her, to hear his loving purrs again, to see the imprint left by his body. She takes one last tearful look at the cold empty bed and walks away to find another place to sleep.

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