The house used to sing with your presence

 The house used to sing with your presence.

The jingling of your collar.
The sound of paws racing across the floor.
The little sighs you made before sleep.
Now, it’s only silence.
And I never knew silence could hurt so much.
But in that quiet, I remind myself—you are not gone.
Love leaves echoes. Pawprints that never fade.
Sometimes, in the stillness, I feel you here. A warmth. A memory. A whisper that says, “I’m still with you.”