Ode To An Old Dog

When I walk by, just breathe out and breathe in

“Dog” by John Singer Sargent, edited

Dear old friend, it’s not the end,
Let me pet you, let’s not pretend.

You smell a bit more, yell a bit more,
People ask if you’re well and fit or,
If you’re sick and I say no, no

Just getting old.

It happens to us all, we just get old.
Just a fall or cold away from being told,

That it’s all going, the light is going,
You, dog, have no way of knowing.
If there’s doggy gods bestowing,
Doggy treats up where it’s glowing.

But what do I know, I’m just an ape,
We say there’s heaven for us (we’re great)
But not for dogs, or cats, or grapes.
But who knows what’s God’s true shape?

Nevermind, just grin and gape,

Where does it itch, that same place?
Don’t whine now, the child will wake.
Don’t bark at all, it’s far too late.
Just lie down, you and me we’ll wait.
I’ll use my phone, you lick your face.

Old friend, you’re doing fine, let’s just pretend.
When I walk by, just breathe out and breathe in.
I’ll see your chest move and I’ll know it’s not the end.
Let me pet you, feel you warm here, my old friend.

Written by

A writer living in Colombo, Sri Lanka. He/him. indi@indi.ca. Videos: tiny.cc/indication. Patreon: patreon.com/indication

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