ROSIE THE DOG

Tia’s old dog Rosie died in her sleep last Sunday night at her dad’s house. She’d been withering and vomiting and couldn’t use the bathroom in her final days. We went to say goodbye to Rosie on Sunday evening.

I wrote this for Rose – I of course miss people too but mabye just remember them silently. I don’t know if this has a form, and it went in silly directions I didn’t necessarily pick. This may be knowing bad taste – but for me it’s one of those terrible situations where sentiment overpowers it.

Out at the stair she met me
Waited for me to play
But now her weathered ages
Ask for me to stay

In a corner, behind the couch
On a bed where memory rests
The loneliness of departure
From the days we spent our best

Running circles, playing chase
Fighting over prey
Throttled out, devoured life
Bleeding to the grey

And grey is where she meets me
Now turning into black
I’ve come to say I’m sorry
For leashing too much slack

For leaving off, for leaving life
For trading sweet for bitter
For visiting too little
And it tastes like kitty litter!

But this dog knows and understands
That kitty litter happens
There’s too much life in this old dog
So litter only fattens

Though retching out the last of life
She tells me where it goes
It is not dog, but mighty God
Who has come to take this Rose

She won’t bear and I won’t bear
The retching for the wreched
And in her ageless sinlessness
She knows the Lord has fetched

For all our wrongs a better toy
Than any wrong could wish for:
A timeless life, an endless day
Where angel doggies soar.