There are days when the absence feels heavier

 There are days when the absence feels heavier than anything I can carry. I glance at the floor expecting to see your pawprints, but there are none. The tiles are clean. The hallways are quiet. The silence aches.

But then, I lift my eyes.

The sky seems different now. I notice the shapes in clouds, the glow of stars, the soft shimmer of light after rain. And in those moments, I see you. Pawprints traced across the heavens, proof that love is bigger than this earth.

Your journey didn’t end here. You just climbed higher—your paws pressing into clouds, leaving marks that only a heart in mourning can truly recognize.

When I walk outside on hard days, I whisper your name into the air. And somehow, the wind shifts, the sky glows, and I feel you answer. It’s not the same as the warmth of your fur, but it’s enough to remind me that you are never far.

Someday, I’ll follow that trail of prints—one by one, step by step—until I see you waiting. Tail wagging, eyes bright, ready to lead me home.

Until then, I’ll keep looking up. Because even though your paws no longer touch this earth, they walk eternal in the sky.