Praise of a dog
He was good at being happy.
When he smelled you nearby
in the dark garden, he cavorted.
He was supportive while you practised.
He was happy to pose for photos
with your trumpet: his master’s voice
and his tastes in jazz were eclectic.
He loved walks and surprises
and treats and just hanging out.
When his back legs stopped working
he let you carry him up the stairs.
And now it is time to let him go.
Remember all the ways he loved you
and lick your tears, just as he would.
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