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Jan 2011
It saddened me to know you from afar:
I never heard the whimpers that you gave
when scratched beneath the chin, or saw you save
your mistress from a cat, or passing car;
you never barked as I approached your door;
you never licked my face; I never heard
your nails on wood, or saw you chase a bird,
and now you’re gone, I cannot any more.
You know, it makes me wonder, Oliver:
I’ve usually dismissed as pious lies
those tales of rainbow bridges in the skies
where faithful friends will wait as once they were
to meet us in the lands beyond the light.
But since you’ve left, I find I hope they’re right.
A friend of mine moved across the country and found a dog named Oliver.  Oliver died before my friend moved back, so I never got to meet him.
Written by
Thomas Thurman
874
 
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