Well, it's been 6 months ago today since CharlieGodammit died. I know, it doesn't seem like that long ago, does it?
I can't believe how much I miss that damned dog. I still wake up every morning expecting to see him at the door so he could go outside to ambush me with a pile of shit where he knew I'd be walking later.
I'm still finding myself dropping my hand down from the arm of my chair to scratch him, only now instead of a grateful lick I'm finding nothing.
I still catch myself scanning the property wondering just where in the hell did that dog wander off to now?
I wonder sometimes if I'll ever get over him. Sometimes I wish I will but really, in a way I hope I don't. I know he'd never have gotten over me if I had died before he did.
