To Sasha
(1993--1998)

What do you do when you finally know
there's nothing more to be done?
When all the fears are come to pass,
and all the tears cannot stay
the last good-bye you have to say?

What do you think while you sit on the grass,
with your face in the sun and your soul in the dark,
and your hand gently stoking his resting head,
the soft, smoothe fur a gentle caress
you try to impress across your heart?

The voices are kind. "It's his time," they say,
but the voice in your mind is a furious cry,
"Why must it be, why now, why like this?"
And you look at your friend, and you know that his end
is only minutes away.

My friend. My best friend.

The way you pressed your chin on my knee
and looked up to smile a deep, puppy grin
as you pranced by my side.
I wish I could see just one more time,
that elegant stride,
that impudent bounce,
and your eyes lit with devilish glee.

But that spot you once claimed will never be filled,
though there are others, many others, who greet me like you
with dancing feet and happy smiles,
and tails that wag without reserve.

I'll give them the love I know they deserve,
but for all the years we'll spend together
and all we share of love, and joy,

They'll never be you, my beloved friend.
They'll never be you, my beautiful boy.

-Your loving "Mum,"
Jan Carolyn

Sasha 1993-1998