Puppy Love

Yesterday someone dropped by with her puppy

and now I've got at least 

a moderate case of puppy lust.

My Bichon Latté died in June at 14 

and I've gotten used to not reflexively reaching 

for the dog treats when I go to the store.

I no longer expect to see her dancing in joy

when I open the door.

.

I'm loving not having to worry about getting home

to let her out after three or four hours.

But a shadow of her still hangs around,

reminding me of the companionship she offered.

I really don't want the dog-mom responsibilities,

but still. . . .