Quiet House

My house is way too quiet. Pepper was my talkative dog. He barked when I came home, howled when I left, and tattled frequently on his brother. I miss the noise. I miss the noise of just having him in the room.

Pepper was the one who talked to me. He brought me his ball, helped me cook and followed me around. He knew the words "slumber party" meant he got to sleep in the bed and that "where's your brother?" meant Ry was outside playing. He was the one who would come and sit with me by the couch and could communicate with his eyes.

I often got tired of playing fetch and now I miss it. The excess tennis balls I keep around the house aren't needed. My house will be less hairy. Less noisy.

And life just got messier without him around all the time because I miss him terribly. I've said that Ry is not a good "only dog." He's not.

I don't think I am either.