Sometimes I left biscuits by your head
When you were sleeping
So you would learn your universe
Was full of amazing surprises
You didn't have to beg for.
The day I moved out,
I had to put you in the back yard.
You kept getting under my feet.
You stood vigilantly behind the glass door
Unblinkingly witnessing
Every suitcase I lugged away,
Every box I sealed and carried.
You watched my clothing disappear,
Paintings, statues, photo albums.
Your bark was high-pitched
And steeped in hysteria.
You started throwing your body against the door.
One final check of the house.
I removed my key and placed it on the table.
I thought I could get away
Without having to say my terrible dogbye.
But, the agonized shriek of your voice,
The sound of your seventy pounds hitting the glass.
I slid the door open and knelt down.
You slammed into my arms
Curling your head over my shoulder.
I said I loved you and would miss you.
The worst part was the look of betrayal,
The innocence draining from your face.
Lulu, you have chewed my shoes,
But I have walked in yours,
Nine weeks slamming
One hundred and thirty pounds
Into doors.
