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Eight
weeks old, the last one left,
your
big round eyes, look of distress
It
was the pound for you the very next day,
so
homeward bound with us to stay.
One
thing for sure—you loved your food,
Oh
the things you ate, the things you chewed,
The
things you barfed and even poo’d—
Even
my bicycle helmet and Chris’s too!
Three
wallets, two seat belts, KFC,
the
water from our Christmas tree.
An
entire counter of cookie treats,
countless
stolen chocolate sweets.
A
Christmas ham, a dead raccoon,
a
pound of lunchmeat, a plastic spoon.
A million groceries left in the car,
half
a peanut butter jar.
Grandpa’s
cooling Chinese food,
deer
bones that you gnawed and chewed.
The
frozen top of our wedding cake,
even
my underwear for heaven’s sake!
And
then, the infamous corn cob treat—
that
one nearly had you beat!
That
little escapade from the trash
cost
us seven thousand cash!
But
now it’s time to let you go,
(Your
body’s done, you move so slow.)
I
just don’t know how I will sleep
without
you lying on my feet.
Or
waking up to you not there,
no
morning hug from moo-moo bear.
No
more dog walks at the park,
No
more camp fires in the dark.
No
more greetings at the door,
No
more cuddles on the floor.
Before
you go I want to say,
You
made my life better every day.
I
thank you deeply for teaching me,
Of
love and patience and humility.
And
I’ll find comfort knowing this–
we
had fourteen years of happiness.
So
as you take this final rest,
I’ll
know you know I loved you best.
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