I never thought him dead. <br />Only running in the park, <br />and sitting stretched by fire, <br />or with his paw, <br />pushing the dish, <br />' more water now'. <br /> <br />And barking, for post, <br />and visitor, and exits, <br />from his home domain, <br />and up the stairs at ten, <br />and down again at six. <br /> <br />A rhythm of memories <br />and habits. <br />Until his back legs gave, <br />and the vets scanning eyes <br />' he has had a good and happy life'. <br />And my heart sank. <br /> <br />I held him as he passed, <br />and watched him go, <br />to another field or park. <br />This time without a leash. <br /> <br />I can still sense him here, <br />in the house, <br />on the staircase just past ten, <br />and at the duvets' edge. <br /> <br />Luther was the collies name.<br /><br />Bernard Kennedy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-faithful-dog/
