Stacy!
Our good doggie is gone today.
Fifteen years passed too quickly,
A fair long time but still a cheat.
No more click-click-click
Of nails on the wooden floor.
No more roof-roof-roof
At delivery men and joggers on the walk.
Birds and bunnies free again
To walk the yard, no fear!
The stealthy, speedy hound
Is chasing prey elsewhere now.
Independent creature, perhaps aloof?
Haughty or just proud?
No, she will not fetch the ball,
Wear dress-up clothes,
Or play with toys.
She does not snuggle or cuddle
Or rush to see you,
Navigating the world instead
On her own terms.
Yet she does love, in her own way,
Nodding or tossing her head as she walks by.
She looks at me with clear intent---but what?
"Thank you for the milkbone,"
Or maybe something more profound I hope.
Older, slower, she still keeps watch
For chances to escape.
"Stay here," the lesser dogs must say,
"There's food and warmth and love.
What will we find outside the gate?"
She answers "FREEDOM!"
And they follow her willingly.
We round them up and they return,
But in her eyes we see the glint of satisfaction.
Now she is gone but not away,
Still in our hearts and in this house.
Odd memories here and there,
Sneaking and slinking up to remind us.
Like Stacy.
A noble beast!