How do they creep in and steal your heart,
those four-legged critters we call cats and dogs?
How do they wheedle into the inside of your life
when you had thought you life was more important than a wet nose, an eager greeting, a hand being licked, or the cool condecension of a cat that pretends indifference but you know adores you?
How is it that when they die, so much they take away of you; far more than you ever could have known?
Turns out, you had built your life around them and now its hollow - just a space of sadness where a happiness used to be.
That emptiness is so much larger than this little life that's gone, but does anyone else understand how broken you've become. It was, wasn't it, just a dog or just a cat - and how can such a thing be mourned by a grown-up person?
It did creep in; it took your heart.
And when it died, the loss you felt
was stunningly intensive.
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