Little bits of him are everywhere. He is as much a part of this house as the floors and walls and for him not to be here is just wrong.
I can't put away his litter tray and bowls and water fountain and cushion and foam footballs and cardboard box and random cotton buds that he pushed down the stairs.
I can't bear the thought of going to bed tonight and not having the wind knocked out of me when he jumps up and starts padding my stomach.
And how can I have a shower tomorrow if he's not there having his own licky shower on the bathroom floor?
How can I make a coffee if he's not winding around my ankles kissing me good morning and demanding a pouch?
And how can I possibly come home from work to no little bear brrp brrp brrping his way down the stairs to welcome me home?
I miss you, wee buddy.