The Cellar - A poem for Pilau

To Pilau

It was an overcast day in Hull, when we first met.
Chocolate-box cute puppy you were.
There was never a choice to be made.
You fell asleep in my arms,
as the other pups played, and that was that.
You were ours now.

Then in such a short time,
we stepped onto the worry-go-round.
Emergency call-out vets,
And worried waiting rooms.
If someone had told me then,
That you’d be my best friend, til I was 40,
Or thereabouts,
I’d have had my doubts.
I’d have thought them mad.
But you made it to 13 years, my bonny lad.

And they were the best years.
The bird-chasing, carpet digging years.
The valley running, river splashing years.
They were the fun years , I think you’d agree.
You seemed to be having a nice time.
There was good food, and cuddles and playtime,
Surrounded by people who adored you,
And a brother who lived so near you,
You were never really apart. Even as old men,
with your raincoats, quiet nights and slow walks.

And now you’re gone, and I’m bereft,
My house is empty of your breath,
But I still think it is your home.
And your brother Dante grieves,
The way dogs do these things,
And wonders where you are,
When I drop by alone.

Somewhere between the sleeping pup
And the dog who’d had enough,
You carved yourself into my bones, became a part of me.
And I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,
Hard to draw a line in such deep sand.

Sitting here as I write these words,
Two weeks have passed
since you locked your eyes on mine,
As I called time.
And all your people miss you,
The pack continues with you
In our minds.

So now, from me
Goodnight. My little wolf, rest well.
You earned it babe, you did us proud,
And I’m so glad I had the chance
to know you.
There’s always one, I’ve heard,
Some dog owners say.
Although you love them all as deep.
There’s always one whose eyes you keep, who never goes away.
Goodnight my little wolf,
I know you’ll stay.