I see you unable to jump and move,
your legs betraying you again,
but your decaying body still
seeks the bright morning sun.

You find it hard to breathe
and there are whimpers you try to hide.
I know it is this time.

The appointment is made.
There are no more questions.

I remember you chasing shadows across the wall.
Now I stroke your greying fur feeling its texture.

You on the steel table.
I tell myself this is love.
This is mercy.
This is right.
But I am the silent doubter to the end.

I drive home with your empty rattling collar beside me.
Grief is in this hollow place.
The house is absence.
Your water bowl is empty.

You have given me so much.

 

20/4/2025