The welcome words
happy greetings,
shrieks and engulfing hugs,
cool nods,
teasing jokes.
Everywhere I turn
delight.
It is nice to be missed,
but nicer to be back.
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(First day back to work after breaking my ankle. Staff and students made me feel a bit like a rock star this morning with their enthusiasm.)
This poem was sent to me by my father-in-law, following the notice about Dusty’s euthanasia today. It’s so lovely I thought I’d share it with you. The author, Christopher Tatchell Winter, was my husband’s 2X great grandfather. I will check, but I believe it would have been written around 1900. (Ignore the way WordPress mangled the spacing in the first stanza).
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Dear, dear little Jack, my companion & friend
Few now are my years, soon cometh the end
And I thought to have had you until I depart
But no more will I lessen the pain of my heart
My dear little dog, so faithful & true
I never shall know another like you
Much that passes for love may be but a cheat
But your love was constant & full & complete
No more will you meet me & run half a mile
To leap in my arms & my sorrow beguile
If but for a moment it then would depart
And sunshine & gladness would enter my heart
Oh, dear little Jack, I call you in vain
But why should I sorrow, why should I complain
It can’t bring you back, I know that is true
And yet all the same I will sorrow for you
And now at my door, you rest in your grave
And over it many a flower shall wave
In winter the snow on it softly shall fall
But no more will you answer & come to my call
.
The sketch of a Winter dog, presumably Jack:
How long ’til I stop
Checking behind me for my
faithful dog shadow?
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Good bye Dusty Dog.
Now begins
your last twenty-four hours.
You are curled on a fuzzy blanket
that you settled onto with a groan
and a long sigh.
You’re catching up on the sleep you missed
between 2 a.m. and 7 a.m. when
you cried and howled and paced.
You struggle to rise and follow me
as I move through the house, still my shadow
even though it hurts to move.
You still wag your tail
though your hips cause you pain.
You still look up trustingly
with those cloudy white eyes,
so I will do my painful duty,
and give you sleep, free from pain.
After your final vet appointment,
tomorrow at this time.
I will bury you in the back yard
beside your brother, and we will weep
over the loss of another faithful dog
who shadowed us
with devotion.
.
Home is too hard
and you need to be here
at school where it’s safe.
But you rarely work on academics.
You snarl
or stare blankly.
So many years of missing concepts.
So many holes to dig out of.
They won’t let you stay,
though you need to be here,
and it breaks our heart
when your choices
are your destruction.
Safety is more important
than schooling.
How can you ever
overcome?
Of course ghosts are real
Haven’t you felt them
swirling about you
like leaves in the wind?
Memories that haunt
spinning through your head
with joys and sorrows
that have no place in
tomorrow.
Like a stone on the beach
she picked him up,
and took him home.
He filled her with new life,
and they held companionable
hands, two became four.
Beneath the bubble,
Poisons devoured him in relentless nibbles,
and the doctor said his only hope
was a healing journey
to a new way of life.
But toward,
is also away,
and children waved good-bye
to their skipping stone,
who crossed an ocean and
disappeared into time.
I grew up
a pampered princess
a late life arrival, long desired.
I felt my father’s
fondness every day-
a travelling salesman
who never missed a moment
of my active life.
But you
lost your father
along the way, lost sight
of him over the barriers
your mother built between you.
What was it like to find him
as he was dying, knowing
he had never stopped
loving you, though you
were equally lost to him?
Once you found him,
he slipped into eternity.
As I watch you, so
polished at your work,
on this career high,
I wonder,
Are you still a lost boy?
Or did the chance to embrace him
at the end of his life,
to know how proud he was of you,
help ease the sorrow
as you set him free to fly?
I forgive you
for not meeting me for tea
And I wonder,
what kind of father
will you let yourself be?
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(For S&D)
You were there
I could tell
I could feel you
in the air.
But when I awoke
the sense of you
was lingering
while the rest of you
was lost.
If I could
see you once again
I’d hold you tightly,
memorize the sensation
of your arms,
inhale the scent of your hair,
squeeze my love into your bones,
and pray the moment
does not end.
Shawn L. Bird 