She sat in her chair, staring at a tear stained picture of me. "I miss you so much," she whispered, sniffled and wiping her eyes before more tears could fall down.

Little did she know, I was laying at her feet. All dogs were loyal, even in death.

I would never stop watching over her and protecting her, even though I had been dead for almost a week. She couldn't see me or hear me, but I would be there for her.

She stood up, most likely going to make coffee. I stood up and yawned and stretched before trotting after her. My box of treats was still on the kitchen counter beside my red collar and leash.

The sight of it was too much, and my human was rushing back to the armchair in the living room.

I sat down at her feet again, resting my head on her leg. She didn't notice, she couldn't have noticed.

That was okay. I'd still stay here with her, and hopefully one day she'll be able to see me again.