Money never got to be old. Like James Dean. Always a puppy.
I remembered Money, when we started to think of positive opportunities now the big guy is gone.
We can get new floors. Don’t need wall-to-wall carpeting so he can dig his nails in to push himself up.
Crap like that you don’t care about.
(In loving memory of Money BigButt Holstein, good dog, dear friend. Photo by Carla Perry)
***
The ten best things
about the puppy dying:
We can sleep in,
there’s more room
in bed in the morning.
The old dog has never
seemed happier.
Whole house stays cleaner;
don’t have to pay the monthly
pet deposit.
We can travel easier, too,
although nowhere I’d rather be
than home with him.
Can take a walk
without stopping
to sniff every goddam bush.
When you are feeling blue
and life
seems like a shit sandwich,
you can stay depressed longer.
Your balls are always
right where you left them.
He’s not lost,
no reason to scour the countryside
calling his name.