Rottweiler's Requiem

She lies there motionless at the back of her run;
Her food bowl is untouched before her.
The osteosarcoma on her leg is huge.
Her misery clear in her demeanour.

Too late for medical treatment has she come here;
Euthanasia is her future, soon now.
Rescue centre staff but await authority
Before injection will make her heart slow.

Should depression be her lot in her last few hours?

Sad and alone at the end of her run,
Both in the literal and figurative sense.
Or can she not have some pleasure and fun?

Just her eyes look my way when I enter the run
And then they move away from me again.
Slowly I walk towards the clear space beside her,
Wishing but to alleviate her pain.

Quietly and calmly I sit down beside her
And offer my right hand for her to smell.
Then gently stroke the side of her face to her neck,
Patting her shoulder as if all is well.

For thirty minutes I sit beside her calmly,
Gently petting from shoulder down her spine.
As the time goes by she slowly shifts towards me,
She lifts her head from her legs onto mine.

Thirty minutes more and she sits close to my side,
Leaning her Rottweiler weight against me.
Her raspy tongue licks out wetting my beard and chin,
Expressing pleasure at my company.

She drinks some water from her bowl when I offer
And a few biscuits cupp'd in open hands.
So I leave her briefly to go to the dog ward
To get a bowl and puppy food, two cans.

Slowly the afternoon passes the two of us by.
All the food, soft and hard, goes down her throat
And we enjoy throw and fetch with her squeaky toy.
She's not now behind a despairing moat.

Finally the time comes when she must go her way;
I follow the doctor with her on lead.
She frollics like a puppy on this final walk,
Not understanding, soon she will be dead.

Learn more about this author, Perry McCarney.
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