My Dog and Me

My Dog & Me. I have a poem about my dog named Skeeta, her name is unique, for she is unique. She always responds to Ski when called. She is a mix of Newfoundland and border collie. She has much energy and is always eager to play, She will pull on a rope in hand and do it all day. I would throw her a ball giving a command to retrieve, and receive a disapproving look you wouldn’t believe. I retired to an island in BC. Buying a house on Gabriola, with a large yard and a fence, you see. This is her home, and her place to be. I often ride my bike on the island trails with her running with me. She enjoys meeting others walking on a hike. But all too often she will disappear into the woods, and be gone for an hour or two leaving me waiting patiently for her to return with a guilty look and defying the trust we together have built. Her bark has many octaves that clearly speak, leaving those listening to their own critique. For every day is a day of joy, until she succumb to cancer, and passed, with a gentle sigh. The following days were difficult to bear, for there was no Ski pulling a rope, or running around in the yard to share. If you are walking or riding on the island trails, you may see the spirit of a black dog running, for this is her time to run and be free. For now, she runs alone; Alone without me.