Warm at my back, black Aberdeen
dreams his fourteen years
chasing - never catching
cat and deer.
Awake he seeks me if I
leave his sight.
Howls the agony of
my upstairs to his down.
His almond eyes
give the lie to a gentle way
companion in migraine
patient with children.
He cannot hear me
when I call – stares heavenward
for long spells. Smells better
than any dog I know.
I carry him upstairs,
set him on my bed,
turn out the light.
Warm at my back, black Aberdeen
Goodnight.
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Love it. He sounds so sweet.
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So sweet.
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The love an old animal friend gives is unconditional and you have captured that in words.
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Thank you, Marti.
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Thank you, Becky.
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He was the best dog ever. I got him after my mother died. The whole family adored him – even Tyson’s wife (who rarely liked anything!)
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You’re welcome, Cynthia!
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