'Don't kiss the dog!'
Me being a spoilt brat always replied
And of course over the years carried on
doing just that.
Planting a kiss on the top
of their heads, where is the harm?
Last thing every night, I would knee
down to Lettice kiss her and say
'If kisses were pounds you'd
be a millonaire!'
Ted always waited patiently, while
I settled her and said all the stupid things;
the fact she couldn't hear me was
neither here nor there.
On Lettice's last afternoon, I kept myself busy,
sorting and tidying, all in her sight line.
She slept and sometimes woke
to watch me, all was very calm.
My greatest concern was that I would lose it,
and convey my fear to her.
How I managed to keep calm,
I don't know, but I did.
I cleaned my teeth, and washed my hands in the
Pears soap, that would every night in her world
have been the last smell she would have of me.
The vet came and asked if I'd experienced
this before, she then gently explained
what would happen.
Lettice saw their arrival and didn't seem
at all phased by it.
She was ready, I could see that.
Ted said his farewells.
I sat at her head, kissed her and said
Very gently they shaved her paw,
the first injection went in,
the next I didn't see, as
I was kissing her good bye.
Lettice was dead.
In happier times