Putting Down - Aug 4 2023

 

Putting Down

Aug 4 2023

The old dog

sheds like she's falling apart,

dematerializing

before my eyes.

She kicks in her sleep,

no doubt dreaming

of the rambunctious puppy

she once was.

Her snoring

could awaken the dead;

but then, I fear she will be joining them soon,

so why not

announce her presence?

But mostly, it's what she portends.

It's as if the short life of a dog

offers a preview

of my own sad end.

Because after all these years together

we have both grown old,

except that she

   —  faster, stronger, gentler  —

has, as always, outrun me

and will get there first.

Her deafness annoys me

her appetite's waned

she sleeps most of the day.

The limp alarms me

the breathing seems strained,

but she is game,

and still enjoying life.

The time will come

I have to put her down.

When I will comfort her,

looking into those soft brown eyes

while she gazes trustingly back,

as the needle slips in

the breathing slows

the body sags.

The democracy of death

in which we all are equal.

Hoping hers will be kind;

mine, no less.