Stretched out on his bed, he sleeps soundly.
His legs kick as he dreams.
I hold my breath, not wanting to wake him.
But a tear lands on his cheek
And he stirs.
Looking up, his eyes search mine.
He knows.
Like the good dog that he is, he tries to comfort me.
No, I whisper, It's my turn.
He lays his head on the pillow,
And I pet him as he returns to sleep.