Monica came to us from the streets, lonely, looking for love. She found it. She and I were one. We talked together. We slept together. But she was ill, and I had to let her go. She nuzzled my kneck,
knowing we had to part.
There is and always will be an emptiness in my life. But my heart is full. Of days in the sun, and in our home. My Mon. may you rest free of pain my little one. I miss you.
Love always,
| Linda |