Midge

He

looks at me with pained eyes

and pleads with me

in words I cannot hear.

His silence accuses me.

 

He

is of course

a dog’s dog,

alpha to his brother’s beta, can steer

him with a nudge, scowl

a warning, scold

him with a growl

think him,

share his fears

and excitement.

 

But to me

he has always been

mine, knows

my voice, the fall of my foot,

my commands,

the scale of my promises –

my soons and laters and tomorrows –

reads

my intentions

anticipates my moods and frowns and needs

follows,

finds me

is always my companion.

 

But what use am I

who am deaf as a rock

to his pleading

and stony-eyed

to his pain;

can manage only

the simplest of tasks:

breakfast

by the strike of a clock

water in an empty bowl

belatedly,

a walk when the desire

takes me?

 

He

pants, sighs

eyes

me

beseechingly.

 

I pick up the phone.

 

 

March 3rd 2015

Midge

Note: A few days later, Midge was diagnosed with cancer and had to be put down. Both we and his brother miss him.