The Dog Hair
The dog is gone. We miss him. When the doorbell rings, no one barks. When we come home late, there is no one waiting for us. We still find his white hairs here and there around the house and on our clothes. We pick them up. We should throw them away. But they are all we have left of him. We don’t throw them away. We have a wild hope—if only we collect enough of them, we will be able to put the dog back together again.
— Lydia Davis, from her recent collection Can’t and Won’t
Doggerel 
Reblogged this on DoggyMom.com and commented:
So true…for any of us who have suffered a loss of a dog…every little reminder matters
So very relatable.
Somehow it always feels wrong to press the “Like” button on a story that makes me feel sad.
Beautiful… though now I’m totally sobbing…
Reblogged this on Synapsis & Synopsis: The world as i see it and commented:
This short poem hit the nail right on the head. It has been a while since we lost Coby, but the loss never truly leaves you. Thankfully, it does get a little easier, though. It’s always nice to find a Coby hair every once in a while.