Good Dog

When a good dog dies,

your heart breaks in two

And a part of your soul

turns a deep shade of blue;

The silence you face

as you walk through the door

and wait for a bark

that won't sound anymore

is oppressive and painful.

The silence is black

as you search for a

friend that is not coming back.

An emptiness wraps

it's cold arms around

the spot by your bed

where he once settled down.

And the ball- that old ball,

the one he adored

sits idle and useless

and cold on the floor.

And who will chase all of

 the cars down the drive?

Or sound the alarm

when strangers arrive?

When I sit on the porch

in my old wicker chair

Whose head will I pet?

Whose paw will be there?

Oh, man's best friend,

how could you go

and leave us all hurting

and missing you so?

We were not ready

to tell you goodbye

Oh, it seems so unfair

for a good dog to die.

"AUGGIE"

RIP

3/16/11