And a bit of self-promotion, but I've been thinking of this old poem a lot lately, what with sparky955 losing her Tazz, and with all the pet conversations in the canteen lately, and I just spent a good amount of time finding it.
It was almost eight years ago that I came home from work to find my Billie's lifeless body on the kitchen floor, and it was over a year later that I was able to articulate that surreal night into something I could share with people.
Here is the poem from May 2009:
twelve and a half pounds
and naturally it’s snowing
it’s always snowing when emotions
are rubbery suffocation
on the passenger side
kept awake by the heavy strain of compassion—he came to help but
I insist on driving
I’m always driving when emotions oily are too viscous to transmit
The steering wheel is definitely real
and probably the snow.
the passengers, like always
fade in and out of perception there-not there
she hates the car, I think
how she cried when I drove her to our new place
I tried to make my voice soothing