On the death of a beloved dog ...


I haven’t written a dog poem in quite some time. Perhaps this is because I’ve already said what there is to be said; anything more would most likely end up plagiarizing myself. And this despite my new dog (almost 6 months old now) who is brilliant, and certainly deserving of poetry.

Today, though, I wrote a short prose piece about dogs. I’m including it in this poetry blog because it’s something I feel strongly about, and don’t think I’ve expressed is as well anywhere else. And also because it can be argued that any short piece, tightly written, can just as well be prose poetry:  after all, in non-formal poetry, there are no rules.

I just received an email from a friend, telling me that her dog had to be put down. This was a shock:  Bailey was old, but had been healthy right up until the last day. I immediately responded with this:



I’m instantly in tears reading that. I’m so so sorry. I can only think of what my neighbours said when their dog died:  we gave him the best life possible. It’s thin consolation; but what more can we do?

I know how morbid this sounds, but I have often thought of Skookum’s death:  of me comforting her; of losing myself in the depths of her trusting brown eyes (there are tears dripping on the keyboard right now ...); of her trust and innocence, as well as her blissful ignorance -- which is such a mercy, that she knows no fear of death. When she is gone, I will be the only repository of our times together. This seems especially sad, because she deserves more remembrance than that.  I think it can be difficult to properly grieve the death of a dog. Because the relationship is as deep and as valid as all the other loves in our lives, and yet it is regarded as somehow less legitimate in the eyes of others; or at least, those who are not dog people. It’s not, of course. The love between man (or woman!) and dog is beautiful and real and should be honoured as fiercely. 

Btw, thinking about death is not at all morbid. Because when we contemplate death, we love and value life all the more:  there is no drifting or taking for granted or petty complaining. It’s a good and useful exercise, dog or not. 

This is one reason I got another dog. I couldn’t bear the idea of not having such a loving, exuberant, and loyal companion in my life. As it is, Rufus is absolutely brilliant. And she and Skookum get along fabulously. It’s as if Skookum has taken years and years off her age. 

I know you were content to let Bailey be your last dog. That you thought being dogless would give you more freedom to travel, for one. Have you reconsidered at all? I can tell you that a puppy is the best therapy for just about any  hardship in life.