Doggone
No more doggone skidding across the floor,
Barking at the door.
And dark, cold walks every morn.
No more doggone lunging at crows and squirrels and rabbits,
Jerking the leash, a bad habit.
And sniffing every shrub.
No more lap-times and belly rubs.
No more side-winder gait and tail wagger,
Ears flapping with swagger.
Just dark brown eyes locked on mine
Closing for the last time.
My dog is gone.
Catherine Hawk
Durango
