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TristanI did not make you poems or build art pieces in your name when you were alive to pull me to and fro as you still do You splashed me with salt water threw sand at me in public places Chewed the rug in the back of the car and barked all the way home You thought you were invincible thought all cars and dogs would give way to you If you thought at all and maybe that’s what I was for Like wiping sandy paws Brushing your coat Opening doors You waited for me to come home And I needed you to be there For almost fifteen years I walked you You walked me I carried you outside in those final weeks carried the weight of a golden retriever And I held you as he put the needle in. Yet an empty space about your size was the heaviest thing I had to carry. published in ‘Take a Leap’ Nikau Press, 2005
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