Saturday, February 23, 2013
Our baby girl
I miss her jumping with excitement simply because I'm home from work, and at night when she snuggled in my arm alongside me in bed as we fell asleep together in security and comfort.
She's not here to gently tap my face with a soft, insistent paw to tell me she's hungry or thirsty or needs to go outside.
She'll never lick my nose again to comfort me when I cry.
Our baby girl died Thursday.
For me God has the face and the endless, unqualified love of a Yorkie named Cricket.
She crawled inside my soul and will live there forever.