The Empty Blanket

The Empty Blanket

Your tired, pain-wracked body isn’t here

on the blanket nearby

where you rested in those precious final days,

patiently waiting for what was surely to come.

Stirring from time to time.

Marshalling all the energy you could

to saunter outside

to do your business

and to linger as you looked around and sniffed.

Broken body never lost its sniff.

Back to the blanket. A wee treat. Rest and restlessness.

Comfort and pain.

Mournful eyes speaking your truth –

“I’m ready...”

Ready to leave this body behind.

“I didn’t know I could get so old…”

Ready to be free of pain and so much effort.

“It’s gotten so hard … Will you be okay?

Will you help me?”

Yes. Yes.

A last car ride over the Divide and through the canyon,

new life, calves springing forth in mostly barren pastures along the way.

Destination reached. All in divine order

just as you said it would be in your wise knowing.

A gentle walk about the moist, soft ground

To sniff the crisp mountain air … and

What!? What’s that?

Oh my, sweet hay and equine poop. Heavenly.

A nuzzle of your vet’s knee before we go inside

to settle in the Quiet Room on the ducky blanket.

Preparing to receive.

What!?

A cookie. A penguin cookie. A sweet human cookie.

“Oh, doc, how could I ever doubt that you are my friend?”

Munch. Yum. Ahh …

Let me lick the floor clean …

Tender time.

Before taking flight across the Rainbow Bridge.

In a hot air balloon, I imagine.

Home in the great mystery beyond.

Home where the blanket is empty except for the rainbows dancing on the rug this sunny morning.

Home Sweet Home on whatever plane we inhabit.

CONTACT