On your last day here, you were still the politest dog in the world.

The vet was sympathetic, but her words were like stones.

So we talked to you and stroked you until you had gone to sleep.

Then we went home without you, leaving part of our lives with you.

 

Now you don't sing when I get up,

And you don't bring me one shoe,

And you don't close the fridge door for me,

And you don’t come to have your ears stroked while I drink my morning tea.