I am always writing about my dogs as my mates here know only to well - so why should this be different. The vet said take her home and love her
I think I can manage that
On Borrowed Time
She’s on borrowed time now they say – she’s been on it before
but this time seems there’s no reprieve. Life’s not for evermore.
The saving grace is that she doesn’t know it – just feels crook
but medicine we have for that and my girl is no sook.
She’s done the hard yards many times, no doubt she’ll do one more.
I’m not ready to let her go just yet, but will before
her life becomes a misery and days drag on too long.
That’s when I’ll hold her in my arms and sing her last swan song.
For now she lies on soft green grass beneath the big trees shade
her eyes are closed, her breathing deep, perhaps there’s been a fade
in energy, I know there has, the postman goes unheeded;
no bark, no chase, no interest now. By Elly superseded.
And I suspect that Elly picked up on this before me
for weeks now she has been what I would term a little ‘ B’.
Lording it o’er her sister – being dominant and loud
whilst Molly only wanted to be just part of the crowd.
We’ve got a little time yet, though we’ll take it day by day,
there’s time to say I love you and still time for gentle play.
I’m missing her already – she’s my big girl, brave and strong.
To write this poem for her don’t seem right but isn’t wrong.
I’ve loved and lost my dogs before and each one has a part
in memories I hold of them – they all rest in my heart.
So there’ll be room for Molly when her time comes and she sleeps.
For now she is on borrowed time – time alas she can’t keep.
Maureen Clifford © 08/12
