I wake up to the sound of your footsteps. No matter how soft each step, I can still hear them. My heart beats quicker. My attention rises. I'm like a child, eager for your attention.

Last night I noticed your worry. You had a far off stare, and hardly said a word to me. But things have changed. Afterall, this is a new day, the sun is up, the morning is filled with possiblities.

I look up from my place, my eyes wide with curoisity, and patiently wait while you pour some coffee into your mug. I call to you, but you only yawn. My spirit takes a tumble. Do you even see me? Am I an object, or a ghost, or a mere painting on the wall?

You turn away in a moody silence; I hear the drumming of water from the shower. When you come back, you're dressed and ready to leave. I put my best face on, throw out a whimper of excitment...

I get a pat on the head, a bowl full of food, and you walk out the door without me. This is my life, and you complain about yours! What does a dog have to do to get some affection around here?