Small Matters
(enormously)
Small dog
Small death
Dogs grow old and die
Better we outlive the ones
We care for
We are small, too
Not in worth
But then, neither was he
Buddy, Bud, Boo
I don’t know how old he was
He was my neighbor
Now he’s gone
I’m sorry
He was soft
He was funny
I took a nip or two from him
(you know the kind I mean)
I don’t care
I’ve known dogs
I knew this one well enough
To me, it came on fast
What do I know
His mouth, by the way,
Was small
(maybe that’s why I didn’t
worry about the bites)
He could manage the small
Tennis-ball type things
I gave him some
Well, he’s gone from here
Dog-heaven is a destination
In a country song
And where he is for real
I’ll miss him
Not as much as she will
Her dog
His human
It’s a new connection, now
C L Couch
Thank you praying and thinking about Buddy. (Goodness, officious announcing has rendered thoughts and prayers into specious-sounding things, though they’re not when real.) Buddy died, quickly it seems. If there’s power in prayer—and there is—then your prayers helped get him to his next home smoothly and painlessly.
Another pet friend of mine died recently. Like Buddy, this one had a wonderful life, especially as irascible as he was. This was Old Poodle about whom I’ve written with Old Dachshund (who died a while ago). About these dogs, my sister often said “It’s a good thing they’re cute.” I often sat for them and typically found their behaviors more amusing than annoying. But then I could leave.
I’m sorry for Denise who took care of Buddy and my sister’s family who cared for Wiener and Schnitzel (my brother-in-law, the chef, provided the names). And I’m thankful for humans who give good lives to pets.
Photo by Kenny Luo on Unsplash
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