Poem for my Parents' Dog

 

The Great White Buffalo

Was a sacred beast

He wanted to be loved

And we loved him well.

Like all Labradors,

He was filled with a great hunger

And he would eat all manner of things,

From rotten fruit to bits of bone

To the tiniest crumbs

So small a mouse might have ignored them.

Every day, he took a long walk with my father,

And I will always remember seeing them

Walk up the orchard hill,

The buffalo's hips swaying,

His nose hovering above the ground.

When he was a pup, he was as small as my baby,

But he soon grew to an enormous length

And a robust girth.

He would sit on your feet

and lean his great weight against your legs,

and require pets until you were tired

of stroking his soft, giant head.

He loved my parents more than 

Anything in the world.

When they were gone

He would pace around my house

And refuse to walk

Until he was brought back to the orchard

So that he could await their return.

The thing about dogs is that 

They have human souls;

Else that or their souls are so close to a human's

That the difference is negligible.

When a dog dies, you feel a great emptiness,

A longing at your legs 

Where a weight should be.

A missing spot by your side

Where your friend should be walking.

You wait to hear the sound of their tail wagging,

Or the low growls of an impatient beast.

The great white buffalo 

Was always a mouthy dog,

And he would tell you 

When he was ready to leave.

We were not ready for his passing.

He was the best of boys.

A  dog must be told

That he or she

Is the best of boys

Or a good girl

At least once in their life.

That is how they enter

The next world

With the blessing of their owner.

Ghost,

I hope you are roaming

The everlasting orchards

Devouring every tasty treat

That your pink nose can find.

We wish we had more time with you.

Goodbye.