At Risk of Forgetting - June 8 2024

 

At Risk of Forgetting

June 8 2024

The video on my phone

is in an old format

that is nearly obsolete.

It has been dutifully moved

from device to device

through each required upgrade.

But despite conserving it

like a diligent archivist

who knows how fallible memory is,

it would break my heart to watch.

The old dog

— with the rheumy eyes

and gimpy hind legs,

who wears a bright pink diaper to bed —

is still enjoying life.

But a creature who lives in the now

would not likely remember

there was a life before.

I doubt she recalls

long tireless swims,

her noble snout

and determined eyes

poking above the waves.

Loping effortlessly through the woods,

as if she could levitate

above the tangled brush.

Or strutting lightly along

as we walked side-by-side,

a well-chewed ball

held proudly in her mouth

like first prize

in the final match.

That she was a puppy once,

when even I

strain to recall.

That time passes quickly for dogs;

leap-frogging ahead

as we watch age overtaking them;

a preview

of our own untimely end,

telescoped down

to a few short years.

The saving grace

is that she accepts uncomplainingly.

And that she has no fear,

no notion of death.

I have to admit

an elderly dog

is more work than pleasure.

But the compact of care

is also a blessing;

what we owe

for the life we had together

we’re at risk of forgetting

in the perennial now.