Wolf's Den

It's rather hard to believe, let alone accept that it's been a year already. I keep hoping, occasionally, that I'll wake up and it'll have all been a bad dream, that she is still here and always will be. That I never lost her in the first place. That she never left me. That her body never wore out on her, when her spirit never did.



I know, I know, she'll always be with me in spirit. But it's not the same. It never is. And honestly? It doesn't make me feel any better. I want my Dante-Inu back. And I can't have her. I want my four-legged best friend and soul mate. I want to see that smile whenever I want, feel her fur whenever I need to, just know she's there when I need her. I won't have that ever again.



Mark saw her the other night, at the top of the stairs. He thought it was Caena until he came back downstairs and realised she was sleeping next to the couch, in the same spot Dante always did.
He said he was sorry, because she showed herself to him first. I said, I see her every night, she's the last thing I look at before I turn out the lights. I have a framed photograph of her on the nightstand next to my pillow. It helps a little bit.



Having hundreds of photos of her helps too. It's not the same, it's not like running my fingers through her fur, or feeling her lean against me when she knows I'm upset, but it helps. I wish, sometimes, Caena could have known her, especially in her later years when she had mellowed out drastically in regards to other dogs.



I miss her so much.