I hate it when he leaves the house and locks the front door,
As I have no idea when he is coming back again for sure.
The first hour is not so bad, I settle and have a snooze.
Then I start my parade I have many rooms to choose.
I pop up on the settee to see out the window.
Dash up the stairs to jump on the bed and lie watching on a big soft pillow.
At the slightest noise, I fly down the stairs in a flash.
To thrust my nose through the letterbox to sniff if it is him coming back at last.
How I hate his disappearing never knowing when he will return home.
When he does I give him such a fantastic frantic welcome, in the hopes he will never ever want to leave me on my own again.
2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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