The Meaning of Home

I used to see him every single day. But now my home’s never the same. I lost him not a while back, but now I just lost track. He was always there for me. So now I miss him more than I have to be. He was my best friend but now he's gone yet again. When I think of home, I think of waking up and hearing my mom bringing breakfast out to our 10 chickens. I think of afternoons when my sister and I would secretly give them some of our lunch. I think of evenings when we'd have to tuck them into bed because we had one with a splayed leg. I never thought I would like Rocky just as much as I did. But I soon cared for him and realized who he is. He became my best friend because of his injured leg. I remember all of our memories together, like how he would always hop on one leg to come to me, coming home from a drive, waiting to see him. But instead I found him unalive. Our memories came to a sudden end, but he will always stay my best friend. He’s always with me, even though he’s gone. The one year with him will stay with me forever.