Old Dog, Young Year...Wolf Moon

Having had both big and small dogs share his life over the years, my brother once told me that little dogs often live longer but...they were old for a lot longer, too. This is certainly playing out with our experience with our dear little Shih Tzu, Minna, who turned fourteen, this past December. She has lost her sight and  has become increasingly frail, suffering what her vet calls "cognitive decline." In other words, doggy dementia. Hers mostly takes the form of getting turned around in odd places, getting "stuck" in corners or behind doors, and barking for no apparent reason. Our younger dog, Sophie, just looks at her then, with a puzzled look on her face, as though trying to understand what she's

talking about. 

But just as with some old humans, who have a sudden decline in physical and mental abilities, it's important to keep in mind that in the big picture of a lifespan, these last years of fragility are just a tiny part of the life they give to the world. And so, I was inspired to write a poem after our wee-hours-of-the-morning experience, today. (Please forgive the awkward formatting. I've yet to master the new version of Blogger!)

Old Dog, Young Year, Wolf Moon

by Kathryn Louise Wood

~Since her decline in body and mind,

blind in eye though not in soul,

we watch and listen for signs of distress,

and come to her aid when she's stuck behind doors.

And ask, without hope of answering word,

what it is that she needs when she croaks out a bark,

as, sometimes, her blind eyes stare out into space

and she shouts to the empty air that surrounds her.

Now, our sleep comes in fits and in frustrating starts

as she "woofs" in our bed, just under her breath,

and our muscles clench tight at the 3am hour,

we know that soft woof will reach desperate pitch.

Then it's jump-up-and-carry her into the night,

out the back door in the wintery cold.

But, sometimes, the chore is a gift, unexpected,

as early this morning, when urgency barked.

I gathered her up, throwing coat over gown,

and carried her out for her needed relief,

into the frost (prayed inspiration would strike her,)

and hoped she'd remember our purpose outside.

I noticed the snow-laden ground was quite glowing

and, turning my gaze away from her snuffling,

my tired eyes were filled with the shimmer of moonlight,

from a moon, crystal clear, in the frozen expanse.

And, then, I remembered its sky-spirit name,

the one for the first full moon of the year.

Then, looking back down at our tiny canine,

knew her heart was as large as the Wolf Moon was full.

I sensed the wild blood that coursed through her veins

as the clear lunar light set her form all a' glimmer,

bathing her body with bright primal beauty,

her fierce, ageless spirit belying her years.

Though shivering cold, warmth flooded my heart

for the privilege of caring for such a dear soul

who the universe granted our love to entwine, 

and the years of sheer joy she's brought to our world.~

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back, now!

Kate (and Minna)

-All photos by either Kate or husband, Bill Ahearn-