Pawprints of love.

A tiny furball invaded our house. Dark fur but eyes shone brighter than the North Star in the sky. He was my warmth on that chilly night. I never believed in love at first sight, but he defined every word of that phrase. That night I couldn’t help but just smile at that little ball of magical fibres which were soon impossible to get off my whole wardrobe. He only had four tasks all day long – eat, poop, sleep and teach us how to love. This fur therapist was my 3 a.m. friend. Literally. Because my four legged baby was hungry all the time. Time passed by during those “omg it’s a park” excitement, “I’ll not stop barking until you sit with me” moments, “your face is my first lick-it-all snack” every morning, “let’s go for a walk and never come back” evenings, “don’t wish me goodnight because that would mean not seeing you for 8 hours”… My one constant reason for smiling everyday was him. My reason for waiting to come back home was him. My reason for saving money to get him some fancy chew toys was him. My reason for being happy and not faking it was him. We used to talk, he sat a stair above mine, his face on my shoulders sniffing my hair as if he would find a treat within those strands. He watched me cook but never sitting on the rug I placed for him to sit on. We used to go for long walks, and as obvious it can get he hated when someone walked with us. What’s not to miss about those wet noses, “you’re my favourite treat” licks, “I thought I’d never see you again” hugs, his paws in my hands as a promise that I’d never let him go, and those pawprints he has left on my heart, forever.. Mama misses you Rio.