So what if I’m old.
I shall quack in white and black.
Even when it rains.
My corgi girl is now fourteen.
A sweeter canine I’ve never seen.
She’s going white, I’m growing gray.
Yet we both know still how to play.
So full of love, this peaceful little dove.
Smiling up at me, and the blue sky above.
A beacon so bright, she’s been a delight.
My girl won’t leave me without a good fight.
Still, there will be a day, though not soon I pray.
When this good girl’s finally called far away.
I trust she’ll rest well, and I’ll then rest, too.
Knowing our love and deep friendship was true.
I stand for a while analyzing my reflection in the gloom before me.
There it is, so much of life rolled out like a tired gray carpet.
A few stains are noticeable, along with a small tear here and there.
“No worse for wear,” I mumble to myself.
In the distance, six buildings proudly stand where I’ve worked at one point or another in this time line of a life.
I notice two blocks away, the old senior high rise is still around. I’d often stay there in Grandma’s tiny apartment as a child. She’d spoil me rotten with a fresh candy bowl of chocolate kisses upon each arrival.
And lots of real ones, too, as we’d play in the big park before me.
One block north on the corner, I see the brick apartment building remains where I was treated to the best shrimp omelette I’ve ever eaten on my second date with my late husband.
Thirty years later I can still taste that first warm bite. And the smell of the shrimp sautéing in sweet butter still lingers, too.
Suddenly I find myself smiling again.
I look down at the vacant cars before me.
I’ve pondered some about moving out east, or maybe west.
But perhaps I will stay parked here a little longer.
It is home after all.
She’s lived two years longer than most corgis.
Though my sweet Maddie’s lame.
Last winter she’d fly through the snow with her strong front legs, ignoring those weak ones beind.
But this year’s different.
Her front legs are tired, and her eyes now wear the same expression.
After last night’s snowfall, I broke trail this morning while carrying Maddie outside.
I gently placed my girl down in her favorite spot to ‘take care of business.’
Maddie looked cold and started to shiver, in spite of her heavy dense coat.
I was saddened to see she’s no longer a fan of winter like she’s been each year before.
After leading my shorter haired pups back into the warm kitchen, I returned outside to carry Maddie in to join them.
But I noticed her shivering had stopped.
While I was gone, it seemed Maddie had rediscovered one of her favorites rites of winter.
Catching big, white snowflakes on her tongue.
I quickly joined on in.
How could I not?
I keep hoping Maddie and I will never be too old to be young.