For those who are expecting my usual snarky, quasi-comedic stylings: you will not find them here. Today would have been my beloved beagle’s 14th birthday. However, due to his decreasing health (and a desire to have him avoid pain and suffering) I had him put to sleep on April 8.
You may read on if you wish, or you can hold tight for something Like-worthy down the road. No hard feelings.
* * *
I wonder if he knows
that the end is coming soon.
Can feel the weight of time
and age
and failing bodies
and life
continuing to move forward.
Even though he can’t move very well?
Thirteen years.
Some say that is over 90 human years.
Some say it’s less.
Time sprints and
time stands still.
I wonder if he wants to go.
His life now is different than it once was.
From bachelor companion to
rebellious step-child to
a little girl’s first dog to
an old man who struggles to climb two stairs.
I’m guessing these are not his finest days.
The march of time
is more like a sprint for dogs.
His head was black,
then brown,
then brown with white and grey
like his master.
Coming attractions for us all.
I’ve noticed a trend.
More than mere coincidence.
Dear friends
and casual acquaintances
Losing their beloved
dogs
and cats.
People growing up and making new people.
Animals just growing old.
I feel for their losses.
And fear my own.
Lumps
and bumps
and growths unknown.
Bigger and bigger
More and more.
Hind legs that buckle and cross.
Stumbling like a drunken sailor
When do you know
when it is ‘time’?
Is there a clock
or a watch?
Good days.
Bad days.
How many in a row?
He makes no complaint
of his growing handicaps.
He tries hard.
He wants to please.
And if he should find food
or a soft place to sleep
close to his family
Well, that would be pleasing too.
He has seen death.
Been there at the end
watching the life go out of another creature.
This knowledge does not comfort me.
I do not want to be selfish
and make him suffer
to make his life about quantity over quality.
Nor do I want to say
goodbye
to one of my oldest and dearest friends.
I wonder if he’s ready
if he’s waiting on me
to say
goodbye.
To let him rest
and be free
and to run and
bay and finally
catch that damn rabbit
that has haunted his dreams.
2 Comments
Hi David. Your poem is beautiful, heart wrenching, and haunting. I have come to love dogs more than I will ever love people–and letting a beloved old pup go and making these decisions on “when is the kindest time?” have been some of the hardest decisions I have ever struggled with. So, I appreciate your words, emotion and uncanny ability to put these experiences into verse. I and have empathy for anyone going through this part of the journey.
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