The Good Girl

The old girl
of fourteen summers
stood facing
the wind.

Eyes squinting,
nose busily-sniffing,
she caught the scent,
yet again.

I know,
Good Girl,
you are here,
at the end,
but I am here
with you.

You know
that the veil
is whisper-thin…

so thin, in fact,
I watch in fear,
silently hoping
to see or hear
your chest rise again

…pushing back
those still moments
when I find you
too-deeply quiet
and sleeping.

The veil is thin
and your sister waits
patiently, knowing,
that when you are whole
and new, the two of you
can chase that old orange cat,
once again.

Never-mind
the black and white one,
green-eyed, terrible,
wily, and wise.

As ever,
she is far too pointy
to play with,
and playfulness,
she will not
abide.

I will see you off,
my loyal friend,
but when my own days
come to their end,
I will join you,
your sister,
and both cats,
one wild and one
most likely wicked,
in the field,

where we will lay
in the tall grass,
listen to wind
as we rest,

and then we will run,
and play,
and chase,
and jump,
and stray,
and race,
and lay,
again,

only to turn our faces
toward the new sky,
forever blue

and never fading.

---

©️ CG Tenpenny, 2023.

My sweet old dog, Taffy, isn’t feeling well. I see signs the end has begun, so send her your love and she’ll carry it over for you, into the next life.

We said goodbye to her sister, Chai, last year.