Journal

poem-old dog

For dogs, who went before us.

Shawn L. Bird

You groan in your bed

shifting to find a comfortable spot.

You struggle to rise on those

sore back legs.

You fall over avoiding

chair legs.

You ignore your dinner

as if eating is too much effort.

You don’t hear people when

they come to the door.

You go out to toilet,

but poop as you come in.

You strain to see me

through clouded eyes.

But you wag your tail

when you recognise me

and bring me a toy to tug.

You follow me whenever I move,

just wanting to be with me.

You make me stare down

hard decisions.

dear old dog.

.

.

.

2015 is not my favourite year.  

Dusty Dog’s 17th birthday is in August, but I don’t think he’s going to see it.

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