Your fur on the green lawn
lays as a gentle reminder of
your last grooming.

From the window looking down
the empty bed, basking in the sun.
a bone lays under a tree, unmoved
for a week now.

Food scraps go into the bin.
Your bowl sits empty at the back door.
Sitting in the sun, reading alone, no sniffing nose,
no companion by my side.

For 13 years now, a part of the family.
Shepherd to our babes, playmate to our kids,
companion to our teenagers.

Always, there and although aged slowed you,
always a playful puppy.

I think you know that day was to be your last
The laboured breathing as you hid under
the tree
The frantic trop to the vet you calmly

We remember the look in your eyes
Sad, but not afraid.  The pats, the
tears, the kisses, the sobs.
Until the green brings your final sleep.
We miss you, Sheba, our faithful hound.