by Mary Saniga / Mary Elizabeth Saniga

I look around the house. She’s not here. Maybe she’s downstairs. She’s not. I can’t bring myself to admit that she’s gone. She’ll never be back. She’s in a better place, I know, but I miss her so much! I’ll never find another dog who’s like her. I don’t even want to try. She was so special. She was a part of me. I pray to God to help me cope with this loss. I can almost hear him telling me not to worry because Teaspoon’s fine. “She’s with me,” he says, “and she’ll be always with you.


Mary Saniga