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| He's read the same paragraph three times now. |
The sixth age shifts into a steady, trusted senior
Bearing a few of life's scars
With spectacles on nose and stiff of shank.
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| Please give me that last sausage. |
And his big, deep bark turning again towards
Puppy treble, pipes and whistles in his breath.
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| I've learned to put up with this over the years. |
Next time have some tissues ready,
this could get messy.
So proud of myself. I didn't cry when I read this. Lost our last fur baby last Thursday, less than 2.5 mos since her little sister passed. And also proud that we gave our dogs "real" dog lives. They sniffed, chased, guarded, and got dirty as only schnauzers can. (O, dem bearded puppies!) They ran on the sandy beach of the Gulf of Mexico and the rocky shore of Lake Champlain. They site sniffed the Natchez Trace and climbed Indian burial mounds. They helped build wood piles (by taking the wood off the pile.) And dug holes under snow fences to follow the scent of burrowing creatures. Jojo sang and Taz grumbled about the singing. Yeah, they had dogs' lives.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this. They break your heart don't they? You may have kept a dry eye through this post but there's still one more to come in this series and it certainly got to me. Don't say that I didn't warn you.
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