I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now run with you in the afternoon outside, except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment, you see me there. So leave awhile the pawprints on the back door, where I use to scratch to go out and in, and you'd soon open. Leave on the kitchen floor the marks of my drinking dish. I cannot lie by your side as I use to do, or on your slippers. Nor on you to get my belly rubbed, no, all the night through I lie alone.

You, Man, Women, live so long. It's hard to think of you ever dying. A little dog would get tired living so long. I hope that when you are lying under the ground, your lives will appear as good and joyful as mine. My Dear's, that's to much hope. You were not cared for as I have been. And never have known the passionate undivided love that I knew. Your mind was perhaps too active, too many sided.... But to me you were true. You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend, I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures to the end and far past the end. If this is my end, I am not lonely, I am not afraid.

I am still yours.