My family’s dog, Riley, died recently. He had kidney failure, and was gone in less than a week. My father, a writer, told us we should be writing about our feelings and memories. Here’s what I wrote…
“The dog I’ve grown to know and love Is now in heaven up above.
In his heaven there’s squirrels and trees. He runs through the yard with an easy breeze.
There are couches galore and a pool, too,
And that is most definitely the perfect shaded blue.
There’s excess food and he’s having great fun,
he has so much energy running in the sun.
Maureen is with him once again,
guiding him on his journey, her “Little Man”.
The way he used to bark when you sneezed
or even when you counted: 1, 2, 3.
He also barked when there was a loud boom,
He would always toss his food across the room.
This dog definitely had the most names,
There was Riley, Smurfy, Smurf,
Schnickelfritz, Little Man, Murphey, and Murph.
I’d always play the piano for you when no one was home.
Then we’d go to the kitchen and give you a bone.
You were always there for me when I needed someone to talk to,
Now I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Riley,
I love you with all my heart. You were my best friend, and I know that you will always be there for us if we need you. Rest now my baby, for you are yourself once again.
I love you. So short.”
By Nicole Zbar, April 21, 2009
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