A Cherished Companion

by D. A. Blankinship

We saw you first, on an April day;

We chose you and took you away.

We packed you up, into the car,

Drove down the road, to a place, afar.

We carried you in, to a house all new;

You sniffed and searched, for another like you.

Food and water and a chewy bone,

There wasn’t a moment when you were alone.

You wept that night, whimpered so sad,

We heard your grief, missing mom and dad.

You thought you were abandoned, a lonely time,

We whispered assurances, you would be fine.

Weeks and months passed, you played and grew,

We were the pack, with so much to do.

We formed a strong bond, people and place,

We knew your mood by the look on your face.

You watched the house when we were away,

When we arrived home, grab the Kong, let’s play.

We shared steaks and broccoli, other strange foods

You studied us and you knew our moods.

We moved across country, we traveled for days,

You were always impatient to be on your way.

We’d park at the rest stops, for drinks, runs, and pee,

You’d pace by the car, let’s go was your plea!

A new home and smells, grass, shrubs, and trees,

So many things: squirrels, birds, wasps, and bees.

You chased all the critters that dared to trespass,

Running rings around trees, muddy paths in the grass.

Time seemed eternal, idyllic, no end;

No one could see the end of this friend.

On a cool spring morning, we called, you delayed;

Rushed to the hospital, surgery, you stayed.

Days and weeks passed, as you slipped away;

No chasing the Kong, you were too weak to play.

Your eyes twinkled love, now you assured me,

We knew you were leaving, but how could that be?

We had scratched your belly and tickled your ears,

We had watched you grow older for more than eight years.

We had watched you swim, saw you smile and frown;

Now we watched you fail, as your body shut down.

Shouldn’t great dogs have a life without end?

Isn’t this a reward we would give to a friend?

The house seems less lively; he’s not at the door.

But, he’s not really gone; just not here anymore.