Snowy

The dog I had growing up.

‘What kind of dog would you get?’

‘I need to learn to take care of myself, first.’

I always say it. It’s in my patented answer arsenal.

I glide down a winking boulevard, and

am flash-blinded for a second.

 

I recall how we used to glide

on sheets of day old snow that bra-pad the earth.

An airy donut sled for comfort,

linked by rope. You sprint, you

boundless bloodthirsty maniac, you panting fool with your

manic pleasing instinct.

It was never clear who you were

trying to please.

I’m not supposed to dwell on you, am I?

I mean our time was gold and every precious stone,

but your life always was supposed to end when I was still

a toothless baby, and I’m supposed to light up when

I mention you and tell funny stories and wax nostalgic,

but that’s it. It’s in a picture frame,

in a gust of wind. A doggy-doppelganger.

I’m supposed to have teeth,

supposed to chew with them, but-

 

-the flash of how I

used to stick my hand into your food bowl and you’d

eat around my fingers. Of your ghostly blip across the

Elysian strips of desert flanked by glassy bay, drawing

farther down the shoreline, like

runaway radar. Your slippery puppy tango on the

cherry floor, after barbeque.

Sitting on my lap in the way

back of the Land Rover and scrambling to the front,

concentration pulsing through your beaded eye and littering

down your drippy nose. Your

breathless, shifty guilt. Haphazard sprints in jagged circles,

the sheepskin ‘Mommy Ball’ that I'd throw you and

your taunting bursts of growls when I’d try to steal it back.

The stolen seven o-clock daylight when the charcoal crumbles

off the grill and you’re on the patio

chewing the ball, wind rising,

and I'm certain you escaped to

the days at the breeder’s as the runt,

before I even knew you.

 

You almost got pulled apart, once.

Then I never saw you.

I had to make that choice, and

I made it like a man, like the

man I’m supposed to be now.

And each month dragged on,

and I stopped remembering to

think of you, but when I came by you

were still panting with that cheerful glint,

still bemused when I’d bonk your

garnet nose with the ball, still a

model of patience when I’d break out the roast beef.

Your polar bear coat was a hand-me-down

now, but I barely noticed. And when

Dad called to tell me to come over,

I jumped in my car, and that must have

been the first time in three years

I did something he told me to do

without thinking. You were

wheezing like a snagged jigsaw.

You still had that grin though, and it makes

me wonder if it ever really

was one.  You forced it, maybe,

forced it for us.

 

I peel off the skin from the

beef and start to feed you. Dad barks

at me to leave it on. 

‘But why, I’m

just taking off the fat!’

Dad softens and shakes his head.

‘He’s a dog! He doesn’t care!’

I stay with you and rub your belly.

Dad loads you into the sandy Range Rover.

Half of the metallic green trunk is up.

I wrap your neck and tell you how I

love you. How you’ve been the

greatest boy. I kiss your salty muzzle.

Back away. Dad won’t leave. It’s

my turn first. I know this and I have to

cut myself, twist

out connection,

jump out of

comfort, rip out of

skin.

I start my engine and this vision kicks in,

a buoy streaming up and up,

swelling, bursting, gliding

higher, higher and

blackness is

blazer is

navy, to

sapphire to

sky to

turquoise to

walls on a

baby’s room to

bubbles, and then

release.

There’s nothing I can do to stop it,

and I’m left to drive and dry myself off.

I don’t imagine I’ll ever learn how to

do that thing.

Author's Note

I'm a bit liberal with tenses in this, shifting from looking in a memory to living it.

Reviews

[Ophelia Gideon]

This poem brings so many feelings to mind, and does it extremely well. This is wonderfully written and I can't stop reading it over and over, thinking about all the cats I had as a little girl and how I felt when they died. Great job, seriously.

[Thaddius]

Oh, thanks so much. I'm a cat person too. Always been really connected to animals. Its cathartic to remember how much you cared, and still care.

[Tina Louise UK]

Oh this made me think of my beloved Honey I lost last year. Such a tender, emotional read. Written really well :) x

[Thaddius]

Sorry for your loss, truly I am. This wound has healed, but recalling it still makes me feel raw. So much love, what can you do... thanks for the review

[Tina Louise UK]

Animals leave such huge footprints on our souls, I wish they lived longer x

[Giggling Star]

Anyone who has lost their beloved childhood pet knows about this. I have had at least one dog, if not more, with me for many years. Four years ago I thought I would try life without one. It lasted about 3 weeks. The house was just too empty. I understand that I will probably outlive my pet. Still ...

[Thaddius]

thanks for reading and identifying