On Still Grieving The Dog
from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice
I am that lady walking two geriatric rescue dogs in a rickety stroller while one big retriever yanks us on a leash. I’m not really sure how it happened, except once a dog loved me so well, I felt healed. I think I am still looking for him in every dog. Grief has left me searching like a blind woman, feeling around the room for that one precious thing. It must be here somewhere. It can’t have just disappeared.
We just returned from our evening walk with our two geriatric rescue dogs. Bruce is a little younger and still manages to travel the full route unassisted. Gidget McFidget, who is 15 years old, starts out strong but midway through gets a ride in the stroller. She seems to think of it as her chariot and barks quite imperiously at the peasant dogs we encounter along the way.
Dogs are angels in fursuits. They love unconditionally and stay in our hearts forever. We dog parents are not meant to be without them. Puppies to geriatrics, we love them and embrace them. We welcome them and release them to the Rainbow Bridge when it is time. Blessings to you, Bruce and Gidget McFidget.