I used to wake up every morning,
With life's mascot at my feet,
He'd lick the frown right off my face,
And joyous words his eyes would speak,
For they were like two windows,
From which I could not hide,
And every time he looked at me,
Light made its way inside,
Each day was new and full of wonder,
Every thread of grass was his,
He had the world inside a ball,
And to chase it was pure bliss,
Oh sweet and playful days,
Memories I recall,
I wonder if he misses them,
Or remembers them at all,
For the morning's generosity,
Has finally run dry,
Warm and sunny afternoons,
Have become the cruelest time,
The food his nose once blindly followed,
Now rots before his sight,
There is no pain in hunger,
Without an appetite for life,
Sometimes I'll look into his eyes,
For a glimmer of rebirth,
Just to see them fading slowly,
Like the paw prints in the dirt,
Surely he must know it,
In every aching bone,
As he crawls into the corner,
And lies there all alone,
Gone are the endless days,
Of chasing rabbits in the hedge,
No matter what the game is,
Life's a stick he will not fetch,
Oh brother to my soul,
Not even a goodbye?
When there's no more life to live,
The dogs know how to die.
