All the Days

 All of the days are blurring into one another. My head hurts, my heart hurts....

When I was 13, we had two dogs, a Chihuahua, Timmy, and a Beagle, Snuffie.  They loved each other.  They slept, spooned together, all the time. Snuffie was much larger but was the baby of the family.  Each morning both dogs would go out together.  Always, Timmie would return first.  After some not-so-patient waiting and tapping of his impatient little doggie paws, he would go back out and retrieve the errant "baby."  Same routine, every day.  Then, one day, Snuffie was killed by a hit-and-run driver.  Each day, after that, Timmie would go out, then return.  He would wait, as usual, then go out to get Snuffie.  He would come home, wait some more, and go looking and returning, obviously, alone.  He never ate, again; he rarely slept.  Within less than a month, he, too, died.  He had truly died of a broken heart. 

I know how he felt.