Cleo Marie
Callous, yet gentle paws that kneaded me in the side as she slept... she whined and twitched as she chased after the creature in her dreams.
(or, maybe, she was chasing after me?)
Eyes, ears, and a tail that spoke a million words because her lips couldn't pass anything more than a bark.
Her soft, pink nose that poked mine to show me she loved me.
A dog knows not their purpose except to serve their owner.
They provide a quiet comfort in dark times.
They greet us at the door.
They are content with just.. us.
Everything they do is for us.
And they don't even know it.
We take them for granted sometimes, I think.
~e.g.
I wrote this tonight as my dog lay curled around my feet. It's messy, and I have a lot more on my mind about all that my dog does for me. I just couldn't fit it here where it would make sense. Maybe another piece, another time.