The vase sits on the counter by the window. I cry every time I look at it. This wound is still too fresh; how long will it take for a scar to form? Of course I remember it like it was yesterday; a week is not long at all, though it feels like it's been an eternity. The movie had just ended when I checked my phone. A few hours later, I was back at home. So was she. But not in the way I wanted her to be. We just sat around the table and cried that night. How can you feel a sense of impending doom when your world has already crashed down around you? There was no funeral. No service. No gathering. Nobody stopped by to express their sorrow or pay their respects. No flowers, food, or cards were received. All we got was a vase. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering whether the heaviness in my steps in the two hundred feet from the car to the counter came from the weight of her ashes or the weight of missing her.

I will miss your paws
I will miss your wagging tail
I'll miss all of you