More Than a Pet

I am the rock star of her world.  She watches my every move.  She dogs my every step.

I trip over her in the dark of night.  She never complains.

I keep her bowls filled with food and water.  I walk her when she needs relief.

She gifts me each day with enough hair to assemble a coat of the finest golden fur.

I talk to her incessantly.  She understands.  Understands enough to sit quietly until the chatter stops; then drifts easily off to sleep.

When I am gone from the house she lies at the front door, anxiously awaiting my return.  Day and night.

Her devotion knows no bounds.

She's more than a pet.



She's family.

So how do I tell her I don't want all of that hair?