Kaluha

doctor death visited you.
while i was at work today. 
he said it would be swift and painless,
and 198.00 dollars. 

you were quite the dog.
and they carried you away on a piece of plywood. 

now, the wind is howling how much i loved you. 

paying for death was the solution.
all i have left is a stainless steel bowl,
and a round LL Bean cedar filled bed. 

your two favorite words "bone" and "ride",


take you on gods bone ride home. 

more of your favorite things:
meaty bones ("for larger dogs"), pigs ears,
going for a ride,
hanging out the window,
staring at shopping plazas in wonder.
chasing things and protecting children.
walking down to get the newspaper.
lying with your jaw flat on the ground, legs crossed in front of you,
drinking beer with me and dad and watching
Monday night football. 

you were quite the dog. 

when my friends came around.
you treated them like your own.
they would always greet you and
you would remember every single one of their names. 

the garage is empty for the first time since 1984.
you made it all the way to 98
in Lorne Green Years.
the crumbs from your last
biscuits are still on the floor in the garage.


i sit here in the dark amidst fallen leaves on this cold
moonless November night, spanning your entire life in minutes. 

the wind howls how much my dad loved you,
(left two shovels leaning against the garage the night he left.)
the wind chimes sing out sad songs for you.
the cold is a crab biting down on my fingers
holding a picture of you as a fun spunky puppy. 

the frost was always troubled about this day coming. 

funny peculiar how pain is so determined to return. 

one night becomes the first time,
           a pillow never greets your head again. 

--Ajax--