Finding Balance

My human goes to work every morning.

I have told her many times that she doesn't have my approval to leave.

But she never listens.

Day after day I watch her leave in the morning,

only to come home late in the evening.

It's always past my dinnertime. And I'm always starving.

But she can't seem to help it. So I don't make too much of a fuss.

One or two of her socks is enough of a sacrifice.

Though she doesn't seem to like the trade.

At least I moved on from shoes.

The seasons are changing. It's no longer cold outside.

But that's okay, because I love the sun.

I've never had much hair, so I get cold easily.

Not anymore! The flowers are blooming.

There hasn't been snow for weeks.

And my human stayed home an extra day! It's something new,

even for me.

An extra day is now an extra week.

She can't know how elated I am to wake up with her

in the middle of the afternoon.

I've always preferred sleeping in. We listen to the radio,

and watch the sunrise. We find plenty of housework to do, and gardening work too. She's always loved roses. They're good for stenches,

but I always end up covered in scratches. I'm sure they'll be pretty,

if they live through the long-legged intruders.

At night, we watch the television. She makes amazing popcorn.

That's my favorite movie snack. My favorite snack of any snack.

She shares it well.

A week has become a month.

She walks me too much. But neither of us are getting thin.

We walk. We eat. We play. We eat.

It's the best day I can remember,

the best week,

the best month.

That month is going on two,

and I'm growing sick of it. She always wants my attention.

I have activities I like to do!

Leave me alone human,

I'll let you pet me when I want you to.

She's begging for my attention a lot these days.

I don't mind pets, but she won't stop!

I'm going to lose my hair if she keeps this up.

Two months into three, three into four, four into five.

It's not ending. Work isn't calling her back. And now she's scared.

In the evenings I hear her crying.

She's fearful and restless. The news isn't getting better.

Just worse. Just more depressing.

I don't know what they're saying, but if I did,

I think I'd be just as full of sorrow

as my girl is.

I do my best to cheer her up.

I do my best to console us both.

And for now it's working.

She still smiles, and laughs at herself.

She's found a balance between annoying me,

and letting me be. We're doing what we can to stay happy,

with trips to drive-thrus

and walks that don't break my legs.

We make good partners, she and I.

She writes, I nap. She eats, I beg. She snacks, I steal a piece. Or maybe twelve. And we're happy, staying home alone, away from it all.

Overall, I'm glad her break became mine. I'm glad her work didn't call her back. And I look forward to the future days she'll stay at my side.

Because I no longer have to miss her.