#1140 This has nothing to do with business, sales or personal development

I just lost my best friend. We ran together—well, I ran, but it was more of a fast walk for him. When I was at home, he was my shadow. He’d lay on the bath mat while I showered and curled up by my desk when I worked. He’d lay in the shade close by when I worked in the yard, and I could whistle him off a deer chase at 100 yards.

His name was Goose, and he was an 80-pound mass of loving, loyal hound dog. He “talked” to Deb and me incessantly and curled up between us to take in a movie before bed. He gave us immeasurable joy. The vacuum created by his loss is sucking the life out of every room he isn’t in when I turn to look, expecting to see him. I am grateful for the ten years we had and long for more.

 A few months back, just before the cancer diagnosis, I wrote this poem for him. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

What will I do? An Ode to Goose

What will I do when there is no you

With no kibble to pour or bones on the floor

Stubbing toes as I trip, letting expletives slip

As you lurk in the dark by the door

How will I run without you having fun

The squirrels unmolested, the deer untested

They stare without threat, and no need to jet

It’s just me, and they know that they cannot be bested.

How will I work with the rug near me empty and no one to tempt me

To quit for a walk or listen when I talk

So my voice doesn’t drift unheeded

You’re needed to twitch up an ear when I squawk

How will I read with no tail rhythmically tapping

While I’m reading/napping

You’re nudging and pawing it’s your way of calling

My hands-on to you -God -I need that too

How will I live with no belly to rub or hair in my tub

From that much-needed scrub

When you roll and you roll in that foul-smelling stuff

Blissfully deaf, never hearing, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

And how cold will my nose be with no fur to nuzzle,

My hands on your muzzle, breathing deeply, near swooning

While continually crooning Good Boy, Good Boy

Your essence, my quintessence of olfactory joy

How will I feel when I kneel to tie a loose shoe but there is no you

Close by to do; that gross/lovely thing you do, a lick on my available face,

You chase - and erase the lines of my frown

And just as I begin to get up…I think no, Just stay down…

How will I wake from under the covers; without nail taps like Glover’s

As you prance and advance to my still-sleeping face

Staring closely – near touching - intending to chase

The dreams from my head, then I open one eye and you’re up on the bed

How will I feel with you, not at heel

To shadow me through all the things that I do

Whether many or few,

I look up, and there’s you – Always You, Always, Always You. 

Tell me, dear Goose, whatever will I do when there is no you – Beautiful – Inextricable – YOU