Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I need you. One day since you died, I can not stand it here without you.

    Through the rain today. I called your name out loud, over and over. ”Come here, Coco, come to me”. I did not care if anyone heard, or what anyone thought. I only cared about this: I need you.

    I am crying, and I need to cry in your fur. I need you to lick my tears.

    I can not sleep, and I need you to snuggle up close. I need to smell you. I need to touch your raggedy paws, with the silky fur in between your toes.

    I go for a walk, there are other dogs out. I want to scream at them, they are not you. I need you to walk with me.

    I get up in the night, I need you to be there, to wake with a start, I need you to look at me, get up and follow me around. I need to see the silhouette of your flapping ears in the dark.

    I need you to wake me in the middle of the night, poking me to get me to tuck you in with me underneath the blanket. I need you to comfort me.

    You were too sick to eat on your last day. I need you to get better. I need you to come back here, and finish your dinner. Please come back.

    I know you never will, but the world as I know it has come to an end, and you are the only one who can make it right.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.