Thursday, December 1, 2022



By Mattie Lennon

We’re left with only memories,
At those, we now must clutch
Your picture on the kitchen wall
It is our only crutch.
That image is consoling
And helps to ease the gloom
As your eyes, like Mona Lisa’s
Just track me round the room.

From scraping plates to closing doors
To going to bed at night,
All have a Ben-connection;
Each smell and sound and sight.
Your meat and nuts disposed of
(To the Blue-bin went your bed.)
I didn’t want any witnesses
When tears flowed in the shed.

We got you thirteen years ago,
You were only four months old.
The last one of your litter,
The others all were sold.
We brought you home immediately
‘Twas a lovely Summer day.
Both had our eccentricities
So we bonded straight away.

We strolled and shared our traits for years
(A half a score plus three.)
Strangers always hailed you first
And then they’d talk to me.
I now walk out without you,
Your spirit’s there but, then
The dreadful thing I have to say.
When people ask., “Where’s Ben.”

To you kind and loved and loving dog
The illness came to stay.
Then needles, scans and Xrays
Were the order of the day.
Some medicines you wouldn’t take
And your pain I couldn’t see.
I forced tablets down and hurt you
Now that thought is hurting me.`

When all that could be done was done,
The end came mighty fast.
Decision made. The plunger pushed.
Relief from pain at last.
We didn’t use that terrible word,
The one that rhymes with “Dread.”
I asked the Vet a question
As our son then kissed your head..

©July 2022 Mattie Lennon

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