My Dying Dog

My dear old dog

Lying still as a stinky old ghost

All day long

A gentle bitch

A mutt and stray

Taken from an adoption agency

Given a gentle home

Not a mean bone 

In her small quivering bony body

And now the cancer

Eats slowly away at her

From inside out

And now I must 

Several times each day

Carry her out in my arms

To her latrine routine

In the back yard

And not forget

Her insulin injections

And now she smells

And pees upon herself

And the flies buzz around her body

And she cannot stand

Upon her own four feet

Without falling over 

Onto the ground

And I must stand and prop her up

And when she walks

She drags her rear end

Across the ground

And her once voracious appetite

Now hardly 

A lift of her knowing head

With blank, glassy eyes

I would almost think were tears

And soon I know

As I lay down beside her

Her muzzle so close

To my face

That soon, so soon

Too soon

She will lay down again

And not get back up

And I know

There is nothing I can do

As I lay down beside her

With her muzzle near my face

Seasons

Odd Ends: Perennial Poesy along the Way

2006