She is brown and black and white.
She has floppy ears, which flip and flop from side to side.
Come morning, I check to see if she is still there
where I left her, beside me on the bed.

When I was lonely, 
without her, before this wonderful friend,
there was just about… 
Nothing, emptiness inside.

Buying her, attached to her.
In a shopping cart, What’s her name?
I do not yet know, the name
“Lyla.”
So perfect.
My dog Lyla.

A new story every day,
A new adventure to play.

Everywhere I go, there she is.
Whether on an evening walk in the stroller
or tightly in between my arms
or anywhere else,
Lyla is mine, she is there with me.

Lyla will always be there with me –

is what I think.

Garage.
Crying.
Sadness.
Yelling: Give her back! She is mine, and I AM HERS!
Countless more hours of crying, the childish thing to do.
Forgetting.
Forgetting.
Gone.

Yet still, forever, she will sit in the corner of my heart and soul.
So that she will come with me
wherever I go.

Passing by,
comfort nearby as I feel joy.
And my mind thinks Voila! 
Is that you, my precious Lyla?