This little beast
big beast really
follows me about like a shadow
a great hairy mammoth of a shadow
when I pause
wherever I am
he breathes beside me
when I walk
wherever I walk
he stays as close-by as he can
but as he’s older olding ageing
he can’t follow me up the stairs like he used to
and sometimes
not at all
he can’t make the stairs at all
He doesn’t tell me if he aches and pains
although I can feel-see it if he does
he doesn’t complain of anything at all
except when he carries-on in the car
which is less complaint and more
sheer
ridiculous
ear-splitting
excitement
As he has done for me
I too
am for him
kind
unerring
and constant
at least I’m trying to be
in my beastly human ways
I know this may be his last Summer
(although I thought that last Summer too)
this anticipation of his lasts
the bookend to all the firsts
makes my love all the more conscious
though
even as a puppy
I knew
that this birth would be a death
that I would probably outlive him
but - it - his life in mine
is totally, utterly, unquestionably
worth it