White Plastic Box

Because she is so
linda.
My best friend
ever.

Oh, God
I love her.
Why
did she have to die?

She's just a dog
they all said; just get another one.
Bury the body. In any old back yard;
now she's just a pile of bones, soon forgotten.
Alone, numb, weeping mutely, I lifted her stiff body. Her once-warm heart
no longer beating. One final trip in the car. This last, a misadventure.

Would you bury your mom
in any old back yard?
A small, white plastic box,
its neatly typed label: Lindie Beller.
Renews my river of sorrow. Hot, salty tears, torrents,
sting my cheeks; impossible heartache crushes my chest. Just bones. Now ashes.

Oh, dear God! the pain, its weight
unbearable. My heart, warm only from the blood still pulsing through it,
has cracked, ripped, fractured: tiny pebbles of glass
from a vandalized car. My heart, now a black hole
never-ending. Black as coal, dark and dense, and rough-edged.
My grief is fatal, hopeless, beyond recall. Please, God, bring her back. please.

When all other friends desert,
he remains. When riches take wings and reputation
falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love
as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
If misfortune drives the master forth an outcast
in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks
no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard
against danger, to fight against his enemies… faithful and true even to death.

--From a speech given by the late Senator Vest of Missouri,
in the trial of a man at Warrensburg, who had killed a dog
belonging to his neighbor. Mr. Vest represented the plaintiff; he won.
The speech is inscribed on the Old Drum Memorial, Warrensburg, Missouri, 1870.

Dearest Lindie:
I found you at the pound,
we busted you out of prison.
Quicker than 5-Second Nail Glue, fast friends instantly.
You defined loyalty. In a New York minute.

Like a child, you innately distilled
the purest meaning of love. Love so pure
it hurt. You wet-kissed me
when I cried. I kissed you gratefully
every night.

You were my little Sugar Bear, my Sweet-pea, my
Belinda-bear. My Mama's Girl,
my Sister. I still save you
my sandwich half. Still save room
in the back seat of the car for you, ever ready for our next adventure.

We were partners: you and me. The endless azure skies and sage-filled canyons
of John Muir's wilderness knew our song by heart,
our blissful freedom treks
where you chased summer, the shadows of golden monarchs,
then frolicked, in winter's fluffy snow.

Fearlessly rough-and-ready, emboldened
by the Gypsy Kings in Dolby, we zigzagged cross-country,
Texas to Cali and back again, encore performances. Sacked out in our green 4Runner,
at the gray rest-stops. You protected me, ever ardent,
from the gray rest-stop gangsters.

How I long to inhale your perfumed sweetness again,
and nuzzle your coat, your velvety-grayness, and kiss your ears, your satiny-tenderness.
That certain way you reclined, paws delicately crossed, betrayed a certain sovereign mien.
I sometimes called you
my regal-beagle

as if you wore a sparkling citrine-encrusted crown of the finest, purest gold,
befitting your noble status as Queen of Weimaraners.
Your soulful eyes, exotic jewels of haunting yellow,
spoke erudite, scholarly volumes. My very own
William Wegman masterpiece.

You melted my heart, as deliciously
as Paula Deen melts buckets of butter
with your goofy ill-docked propeller-tail, and your cute little ski-slope nose. As brightly
as the sunshine, when it shimmies across the end of a gray rain, you delighted me
with your Alvin Ailey happy-dance and your irresistible, toothy dog-smile.

Lickety-split, I was your reason for living;
imminently, you were mine.
After fifteen quixotic years,
you surely ceased to be
Just a Dog.

You suffered in your love for me
until the very end.
I suffer
still.

I love you, little mama
I miss you.
Goodbye, Lindie Girl
goodbye.

Lindie is my BFF; my best friend forever; after a while I found myself wondering, who rescued whom? Click here http://www.weimrescue.org/ if you want to find out about rescuing one of these deliciously loyal, erudite souls. Lindie thanks you from heaven.