Half a year after my father left us, I set out on the journey back to my hometown, with a deep longing for him. On this trip, I went to visit the little flower dog he loved the most in his life.
The little flower dog sat quietly in front of the door, as if waiting for his father's return. Its eyes were full of anticipation and loneliness, and I couldn't help but think back to the scene when my father was alive. At that time, my father always took the little flower dog to run in the fields, and their laughter still echoes in my ears today.
I stepped forward and gently stroked the little flower dog, trying to comfort it in this way. It seemed to sense my kindness and licked my hand, a hint of comfort in its eyes. I hugged the little flower dog, and tears could not help but come out of my eyes. It's not just a nostalgia for my father, it's also a nostalgia for that good time.
Little Flower Dog was quietly with me, and we spent the afternoon together. Although my father has left us, his love, his care, and the little flower dog he loved the most in his life will always remain in our hearts.