Last night and today,
he had seizure after seizure.
My old boy, holding on strong,
but I knew - it was time.
I wrapped him in a clean towel,
one of his favorite blankies,
and placed him in his daddy’s rocking chair -
the one he always loved.
I cleaned him up,
kissed his face,
and cried until I couldn’t breathe.
For over ten years,
he was part of our family -
my best friend, my shadow, my heart.
We’d saved his life before,
but not this time.
The house feels wrong without him.
The others walk past his bed,
sniff his toys,
and quietly walk away.
Not one lays down there.
They know.
Last night,
he walked the house
like he was saying goodbye.
Maybe he was.
Today my shipment of books came,
and my boy had to go.
Life’s strange like that -
one thing beginning
just as another ends.
I don’t know why God took him so soon.
I only know He did.
And I pray Rosco’s running free now,
no pain, no fear -
just joy.
Until I see you again,
my boy -
you were,
and always will be,
abnormally wonderful.
No comments:
Post a Comment