CHELSEA’S LAST RIDE
C Ra NcGuirt
Chelsea, babe, it’s time to go,
and come in from the patio
Where you’re wrapped against the cold,
and for simple dignity.
Chelse, we’ve been on many rides,
and a few were far away
Where we rambled through the woods
on our highway holidays
You were pleased with simple things—
all you asked for with your eyes
Was kindness and a gentle touch;
now it’s time to say goodbye.
I bring you to the SUV,
and make sure you’re safe and sound
In the back seat while I see
to backing up and turning round
Headed for our final ride—
you’ll be seeing me no more
Never will I wander with you
through the snow, or open doors
To let you in or show you out.
My lip trembles when I see
A lady walking with her own—
it looks a lot like you and me
Used to look. I take it slow;
to the place we have to go
The lady at the desk is kind,
when I lay it on the line
And you upon the weighing scale.
My heart is now forced to confess
I cursed when you made a mess,
But showed you love more than I failed.
It’s time to leave. You’ll soon be warm,
and warmer still, until consumed
Your ashes scattered far away.
I drive back home, and in my room
Knowing none of us will stay
Through the ache and mental fog
I sit to write an epitaph
For a good and gentle dog
Named Chelsea.
—C Ra 10/5/07
