Jack

Jack, I don’t believe in any sort of after-life.
But I remember that February morning when we drove you to the vet.
Collins carried you from the house.
The vet called us minutes after we left you. We turned around.

All the week before you sat by my side as I worked at my desk.
Thinking you wanted to spend time with me.
Not realizing our days together were running out.
Your bowl joined us beside my desk.

All dogs run their course.
I guess you wanted me to know how much you wished to stay close.
No longer having the strength to rest your head on my thigh or stand to eat.
You lay by my side as I worked.

Jack, I’m fine thoughts of you warm me.
No more strands of black hair in our home.
Google photo shares days with the pack of three, creek swims.
Fondly remembered.