For Chacha.

the clickety click click sound
of your nails on the hardwood
still echoes on the floor you will
no longer pace
and sobs roll forth thinking of
all of the things we will miss...
and
i giggle when i think of your first visit with us
how we knew your last home was
carpeted:
the sliding and slipping as if the floor
was covered in slime
and
of course, as if it wasn't going to be
hard enough on you,
your first real night with us
it rained. thundered too:
your biggest fear.
you were wet
you were scared
you were disoriented
and new
and now you are gone
and in the truest of circles
i will remember you the same
as you came:
wet
scared
and asking for help
a different kind
and
now we *know* that
the massive tumor that multiplied inside of you
forced you to leave the comfort of our home
for three cool rainy spring days in order for you
to TELL us and we begged for you
to tell us something else
we pleaded that you just 'come out of it'
but no, you knew.
it was time.
and
when i finally knew too, you knew that.
and you gave me love to help me face
those next steps.
today you were so grateful
so graceful
so sweet
so loving
and kind
you wanted me to remember that
about you and i promise, i will
your tail wagging
your ears
perked
your pleasing smile
and that was how we chose to remember you
so please forgive us for not choosing to stay
to watch all of that good intention slowly slip
out of you, we are simply not willing
to see you any other way. certainly not
void of your most perfect spirit.
and
i also would like to thank you for being
my first dog.
you will never know the gift
you have given me, all that you have taught me
about myself.
the doggie footprint imprinted on my heart
is a forever kind, a mark of love.
a new kind, and i
thank you, chacha marie.
rest in peace.