I suspect this unknowing keeps her young;
Aware of nothing but companionship
And faithful service to that end. Her leash,
Once taut on our daily jaunt, now droops more

Though I see her tail still wags quite swiftly.
In the next life I pray we will sit and
Speak splendidly for hours about our dreams
And finally find out what those looks meant.

Fall days like these, decay pervades the air,
Stiff pre-winter gusts, psychedelic snow,
As last leaves cascade from the trees to form
Rainbows we stroll through and on. As we walk,

Hearing her pant steady and excited,
Taking in all the newness from the path
We have walked along for years, strengthens me.

Her tail wag beats rhythmically on my leg
While she investigates odors I will
Never smell. The kids who used to pet her
As we made our rounds now honk their horns as
They drive by. Forever optimistic,

Calliegirl considers chase then submits
To wisdoms’ call, content that if she wants
She could catch the spinning wheels. At the end
Of our journey, she sits attentively,
Paw raised, awaiting brush, the wipe, the treat.

Sleep comes easily, my friend at her post,
Dreading days when I no longer hear her
Nails’ tap-dance prance across the wooden floor
Leading down the hall to the leash and door.