The Misbehaving Widow of My Best Friend

Bad Manners?

Her husband on my bed.

For the last 7 months I’ve been all alone in my beach house, but very well accompanied by my friend Maiella, a 9-year-old Labrador, widowed for 6 months. Her late husband was an extremely intelligent little dachshund, sure smarter than most human beings, named Café, 8 years old when passed. I will write about his life another time.
Since last spring, Maiella and I have become emotionally close. She suffered a lot over the loss of her partner, the best friend of mine, and would spend hours looking out at the street through the cracks in the gate, like in the hopes or his coming back. As for me, I was quite criticized by a family member for not weeping over the tragic loss of my beloved dog, certainly because she wasn’t able to the hard tears that didn’t run down my face, rather immediately got petrified in my memory, from where they will never leave.
Thus, reader, you already have good data to infer why Maiella and I now talk so much. We spend all our time together, and she compulsively follows me around the house and the yard, also clearly showing her suffering when I am out.
What do I talk to her about? Maiella listens to me attentively to my words about everything and nothing, always agreeing with my viewpoints, even the most controversial ones, or supporting those controversial views, which I often end up rejecting for changing my mind over my own first…