My dog of sixteen years died on March One.
She was not my best friend.
She had great needs
I could never do enough for her.
Not enough walks,
Not enough food,
Not enough friends.
Not enough excursions.
She was in love with the world,
I was not enough.
We rubbed against each other
And forced response.
Her spirit was very big.
My little house is very big
without her.
We were the best of friends.