You died quickly, without fuss.
Never sick a day in 13 years,
Until your last.
Whoever said “sick as a dog”
Didn't know you.
I’m glad I got to pat your head.

So -- goodbye, friend.
Thanks for guarding the girls.
That was your mission, I guess.
And when they grew up and left
You didn’t complain.
But your heart must have hurt.

Copyright (2002) by Arnold Cantor.
All rights reserved.

[December 9, 1988. Frisky was a salt-and-pepper
Miniature Schnauzer with uncropped ears. His ashes
were buried in the soil at the base of a flowering
dogwood tree, and this poem was read as part of a
family memorial service.]