you miss your dog

you miss your dog.
his barking
and chewing
of shoes.
and belts.
purse straps
and furniture.
you miss his accidents
on the rug.
his hair
shedding everywhere.
the way he
hogged the bed
diagonally.
you miss his vet
bills, his
over night stays
for gastronomical
issues due to
eating trash
and dead things
in the woods.
you miss your dog.
the way he begged
and whined at every
meal, the way
he chewed through
your computer wires
before you even
plugged it in.
you miss the sound
of your sunglasses
being crunched
upon, the smells
he emitted after getting
into the trash.
oh how you miss
your dog.
you do.
but not enough
to ever get
another one.