To celebrate, here’s a poem I wrote some years ago, reflecting on a senior German shorthaired pointer we’d adopted.
Of what are you dreaming now, Schatzi, my love?
What fields do you roam as you run in your sleep?
What prompts you to bark in your slumber, old girl?
What pain remembered elicits a whine?
Of whom are you dreaming now, Schatzi, my love?
Whom do you guard with that unconscious snarl?
What hand rubs the tummy that, sleeping, you bare?
Whose voice do you struggle, unhearing, to hear?
Did they love you, I wonder, as you had loved them?
Did they see you as sibling or child?
Or were you but a tool, now crippled with age,
Tossed aside like a worthless old gun?
Why were you wandering, Schatzi, my love?
Why did they not seek you, though treasure you are?
Why are you sleeping beside me tonight
And not with the ones who so long owned your heart?
Copyright © 2007 Elisabeth G. Wolfe. All rights reserved.