February 1, 2016 - 0900

Yesterday was the culmination of two of the worst days off in my life. It started fine and then spiraled down into the bottom of a pit that all pet owners eventually end up in. Our beautiful, sweet, gentle pup Fiona left us. She'd been slowing lately, but we had no idea what was actually going on. When we found out what her actual malady was, the choice was clear. Painful, but clear.

This is for her. For all of the dogs who don't live long enough. For the owners who cry at their loss. For the memories that last forever.

Gone Too Soon

She was only nine and a half when she departed

After a long day that scared us all

Staying in strange places. With strange people

Not being able to be near us

I wonder what was in her mind

Was she lonely? I know I was without her

There was too much room at the foot of the bed

Without her there

Was she scared? We were, not knowing what was wrong

Unable to help her in any way

Feeling helpless while she was taken to and fro

From table to table

When we finally got the answers we were stunned

There were silent tears

This was it. This was the last time

She would be with us

And so, after the papers were taken care of

She was put on a soft, warm bed

And then with her pillow under her head

And her family by her side

She closed her eyes the one last time

And drifted away peacefully

Leaving her broken shell behind

She was only nine and a half when she departed

October 9, 2015 - 0900

As one can probably guess I am an animal lover. Of most kinds, but the small furry ones hold a special place. I am soft like that, but in my line of work if you have to have a soft spot I think that it should be for children, the elderly, and animals. It will keep you humble and remind you that there is not just bad in the world.

The downside is that occasionally the bad will intrude on the good. Children are abused. The elderly are neglected. And animals are injured and killed. This is from a call that I was on a few weeks ago but only now found the words on the page.

Bandit

I got called to a dying animal tonight

Raccoon. Generally thought of as just a ring-tailed rat

Giant vermin stealing garbage

And creeping me out with their tiny hands

But this was a little one. A pup

Or cub or whatever a baby raccoon is called

Maybe a year old at the most

With it's tiny paws (hands?) flexing

With each labored breath

A small part of me died with it

I didn't want it to suffer

But there was nothing for me to do

In front of a school is no place to shoot an animal

But in front of a school is no place to die

I'll check on him periodically

And when he's gone we'll both rest easier

October 7, 2015 - 1500

It's been a long time since I've written anything here, or at all. The inspiration to write isn't always with me and that leads to long periods where I don't write anything at all. Then something happens and I put pen to page. Literally. I will hand write everything first, revise it so that I like what I've written and then type it out for this place.

In this instance, a friend has had to make the horribly difficult decision to take her faithful dog on that last car ride. Anyone who's a dog owner or pet owner knows how heartbreaking this is. I actually called it "heart crushing" because that's what happened to me and my wife when that decision was made at our house. It's been three years and we still talk about, laugh about, and sometimes even cry about Pepperoni.

So this is for you Lucy. Beloved companion to a friend. Anyone who knows will understand.

For Lucy

We found out last night

That a friends dog had reached
The end of her days

Her time had come

She wasn't even my dog

But I cried. I was sad

Thinking of a friend who

Has to make such a decision

I was also sad for my dog

Gone these three years plus

But sitting in an urn

On our dresser. Still wearing her collar

And I was sad for our dog

A gray-faced gray; tail still whippy

But easily injured and slowing

From her puppy like ways

I'm sad for all of these things

Dogs and people and urns

Gray faces and stubby tails

And all of the dogs I don't even know

May 25, 2011 - 0505

After a nice break, it was back to the grind on Monday night. And by grind, I mean a slow midnight shift. This isn't unusual where I work, but it doesn't make it any easier. Each Sunday and Monday enter and pass away as if they are slowing dying of some wasting disease. And with that thought, I decided to write an epitaph for Mondays in my town.

Here Lies Another Monday


Here lies another Monday
Ushered in by wind and cold
Sent out with the same

Here is entombed my brief conversation
With morning fast approaching
I was left alone by my peer

Look not for the night shift gone
It left us all wanting more
But gave us only the usual crawling of time

As the hunter takes down two
Do not cry for their demise
The wounds were as but scratches on paper

Fare thee well Monday
Until we meet again
Monday next. Farewell.