
- Kelly on the right with her mama Meghan and brother Guinness who was not sharing the wing. PHOTO BY KINDRED
Still toys, a clean bowl and a waiting basket
by Bobbie Kolehouse
2016
From little you loved your toys.
Loved your balls.
Loved your plushies.
Loved your knotted socks.
Sitting on the floor next to the show ring
I’d toss a ribbon or a small lobster toy
to make waiting easier for you.
As a baby you were like a wind-up toy
that I’d set on the floor and watch
you chase a tossed knotted sock
to bring it back to me.
“Kelly, Kelly, fetch it.”
Fetch it.
Kelly, Kelly, Kelly
…fetch it, my darling.
Like the swans in the mist crying,
“Where are you? Where are you?”
Your basket with your favorite balls
is next to the cabinet, where you left it.
Your bowl is washed and dried
and sits on the counter.
Your own orange kong
I’d stuff with bits of steamed carrots
and fresh chicken, mostly chicken,
is here.
But you are not.
You are not.
Where are you? Where are you?
My Kelly Bird?
If I throw the ball,
will you fetch it?
no…no… you have left me.
Left and I cannot fetch you home again.
Kelly, Kelly, Kelly…
(c) 2016 Bobbie Kolehouse

AMCH Kindred Playin’ With Words
Kelly, 2/2/03 to 3/10/16
Filed under: Kindred, Uncategorized | Tagged: canine, dog, gone, grief, Kelly, loss, mourning, old | Leave a comment »



