Pet sitter from Saturn
Notices the pattern
Of floating rocks
Round kitty socks
And counts them as they go-

In twilight’s hush the sitter comes
With gentle hands, she greets the hum
Of furry hearts, once bright and bold,
Now singing softly stories told.

Interstellar, deep, where memories cling,
She feels the pulse of everything.
A wagging tail, a purring sigh,
The warmth of love as moments fly.

But time, that thief, it creeps and steals.
Now all that’s left are tender feels.
The blankets kneaded and graveyard heeded
And the sitter is left defeated
In the ash of the life she now chided.

The person I was is slowly fading
I tell no one, so no one can be aiding

My mind shatters like an atom smasher
My heart and breathing are going faster

Take a pill and make it better
Or sit right down and write a letter

What I say is written in a panic
I feel me stepping up to manic

He’s so upset, and his eyes say
“Did you have a really bad day?”

Toys are brought, 3 in all
“Grandma will you throw the ball?”

“Playing fetch will make you happy.”
I know. the dog is very sappy

I cannot ignore the plea
It’s the eyes, it gets to me

So outside we go to play
You KNOW, I feel better today

'though time was brief—your light was vast
your presence lingers; your memory stays
in the warmth of my hand, where I brushed you off my fingers

in the softest light of fading days,
unconditional, unexpected, true,
grief may weigh, but love won’t bend

pay me a visit through my dreams
play with me as I will feed you your favorite treats
tell me about the rainbow bridge

a love unplanned, in fur and bones
you have brought us so much joy
Yet in the silence, sometimes I would hear your bell as you walked by

When you died, you died too soon.
You died one year ago this afternoon.
A vet tried to save you with a blood transfusion but you died anyway.
You died and my heart was broken one year ago today.

I bought you in 2017 and you were only six years old when you died.
If a person ever says that I didn't love you, that person will have lied.
Some Chihuahuas are hateful but you were not.
You were one of the best things I've ever bought.

I took you to two vets but your life still came to an end.
You weren't just a dog, you were also a wonderful friend.
I have something to say and it is 100 percent true.
You were a very special dog and I'll always love you.

I didn't expect my black Cocker Spaniel to die.
He died 30 years ago today on the 14th of July.
He was born in 1981 and Poochie was his name.
He was killed by a car and it was a **** shame.
Poochie was unfriendly at times and sometimes he would bite.
But he was my dog and when that car killed him, it wasn't right.
It was sad because my dog couldn't live anymore.
He died thirty years ago on July the 14th of 1994.

In the dimly lit chamber, we set the scene.
An owner and his pet, a game of primal and prey.
She kneels like an eager dog, a collar around her neck.
He stomps his feet and keeps her obedience at play.

The owner, like a magician, keeps tricks up his sleeve.
He wants his pet to learn— to be his student and please.
Commanding her to crawl, to fetch and beg.
Waiting for him to call her a good little pet.

She barks and whimpers, a puppy in passion.
Spins three times and licks her master’s feet without a whine.
The pet surrenders to her master’s might.
She delivers his sturdy leather boots in a straight line.

With a flick of the whip, the pet curls in elation.
Her master chuckles at her sounds of temptation.
Submitting to the cynicism of ******* and discipline.
She is flogged like a plebeian, forgetting she’s a citizen.

Pet and master, a bond so strong.
The two are bound by zeal, craving one another.
She wallows in the comfort of her belly rubs and treats.
And runs around with a rush of red in color.

She goes through treacherous training.
And yelps if she’s ever caught complaining.
Waiting for a tasteful gift: the eternity collar.
When she is ready, he puts it on with honor.

You died half a year ago tonight and I had to say goodbye.
It was six months ago when I watched you die.
It's never easy when a man loses a dog as special as you.
If somebody says that you were awesome, it will be true.
You were in the living room with me when I watched you take your final breath.
When I had to watch you die, it was extremely painful to have to face your death.
You had chocolate brown fur and you're a dog who I'll never forget.
You died on a Saturday night and when you died, I lost a great pet.

my sister’s cat died in my arms.

my sister’s cat,
who she never fed.
who she never snuggled.
who she never loved.

my sister’s cat,
who i fed.
who i snuggled.
who i loved.

i didn’t cry.
i didn’t mourn her.

but my sister
she sobbed.
she grieved.

is this not the way of the caregiver?

caring until the time to care is over?

and leaving the owner to mourn?

My best friend doesn’t talk very much,
He listens sometimes, nods his head and such.

He sleeps all day, loudly most times,
Unbothered by me or nickels or dimes.

He smells damp, his feet are warm
Circled next to my head when my mind is a swarm.

My best friend always knows what to say
If the piles of stones in my head start to weigh.

In that, he doesn’t talk, or even really touch,
He just listens sometimes, nods his head and such.