She walks quietly through the light morning rain and trails slowly to the woods where she spends several minutes sniffing about. Done with the scents of the woods she walks slowly back to the house. Her mind now laden with medication to stave off seizures she is slowed to a fraction of her normal pace......... Mired by the effects of the Phenobarbital...... But she is brave at heart and continues each day with a portion of a ritual eleven years old........... She walks into the house and heads straight to the fireplace hearth where she lays curled in a tight ball to consume the warmth from the remaining embers......... Soaking wet with a look of disdain she lays and waits on me to come to her with a towel and dry her coat. She can no longer shake her body violently to rid herself of the water......... So she waits. When I arrive with a towel she lifts her head in an acknowledgment of thanks. And I sit momentarily by her side stroking her soft, damp fur. Considering the past.
A commitment we shared she and I since she was a pup. A commitment of trust and loyalty that has stood the test of time since she’s joined the family........ She’s braved the waters of both the Chesapeake and the Mississippi....... As a two year old she sat impatiently in a boat on the great bay while we fished for Stripers.......... Unable to wait any longer, the instincts of the breed pushing her she plunged into the dark rolling waters and swam. I watched her pensively for several minutes before she retrieved the smallest of twigs that I hadn’t even noticed........ She returned to the swim platform of the boat and waited to be hauled up. She had confidence in me. Knew everything would be alright............ Once in the boat she shook the water off and happily laid her bounty at my feet.........
Now robbed of her physical abilities she plods on........ A shadow of her former self. But she still follows me everywhere I go. Slower to rise. Slower to get there. But predictable and still keeping up her end of our commitment.............. Unsteady of foot but true of heart I marvel at my furry friend. She’s been a constant in my life and has met the changes we’ve made as a family head on. She still pushes my wife with her head when she feels we are to close.......... And her tail always wags........ Everyone that comes to the house is greeted with a couple of barks and the ever wagging tail when she walks up to sniff and be acknowledged. And she shares her home with everyone in a unique way. We all have a place in her life. She still dotes over her toys and gets angry when one of her four footed house mates gets too near. These days I have no desire to write poetry but the desire to write of my best friend still remains........................
bravo killerelite, enjoyed, never answer us back or argue and are more loyal than humans, although having two Yorkies myself and show true companionship the odd yell has happened has they both took my daughters teddy into the garden and gave it a good seeing to, my daughter distraught of seeing the insides of poor teddy scattered around the garden. Ha ha we later buried teddy ..............(in the bin) shhhhhhhh............!
The following users say thank you to craigb12 for this useful post:Killerelite
It may not be poetry but it is still good writing. A lovely emotional story that warms the heart of us all.
Dogs truly are magnificent animals. Never a dull moment when my two dogs were still around, even in old age.
The following users say thank you to Jamboree for this useful post:Killerelite
Touching, Bravo Bill.
The following users say thank you to Forgewright for this useful post:Killerelite
@craigb12 that's hilarious mate............... Yorkies are the world's smallest big dog. I don't believe they realize how small they are.................. Poor Teddy was probably taking too much of their attention and was dispatched for his insolence.................
Lovely @Killerelite... I'd say it's quite poetic. I love reading your writing, whether humor, heartfelt, prose or poem... keep sharing when the urge strikes you :).
Thanks @tlhopkinson .......... I started to write a poem but drew a blank............ only the second time I've ever considered writing a poem about something I was thinking about and xxxxd out. Wonder if I'm all poemed out? Is my poetry all gone? WTF? I dunno......
Poetry is not something you force. It's either there or it isn't. I also don't think it is a constant... It comes and goes as it pleases. It's like a belligerent teenager :). Oh I'm quite sure it will be back soon, wanting to know what's for dinner, needing cash or a ride to a friends house.
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