Abbey,
I’m going to miss a lot of things about you. How you would always greet us at the door. The way you followed Maya around, keeping an eye on her. Lazy afternoons, curled up on the couch with me as I watched the Sox. Waking us up in the morning by swimming in our covers, rubbing your face and wiggling that little tail like mad. The ever-vigil watch you kept on the backyard, bolting outside at the first sign of a squirrel — then bouncing around, woofing, making sure they knew who was in charge. How you and YiaYia would keep checking on me late at night, when I was the last one awake, still playing videogames (and how you had identical looks — wordlessly expressing “shouldn’t you be in bed???” with a simple glance). You always accepted our hugs and kisses and smothering affection (even when you didn’t feel like it) because you knew it made us happy. You were smart, you were loving, you were cute — and you looked like a wookie.
Mostly, Abb, I’m just going to miss you.
