September 28, 2021
5:16 p.m.
Call It!
He rode in my lap all the way to the vets;
I looked in his eyes; I called off all bets,
For this is the way he will die;
For this is the way he will die!
Two bloody shots in his right front leg;
He didn’t fuss or bark or even try to beg,
For this is the way that he died;
For this is the way that he died!
He trusted our love and our gracious good will;
He put down his head and he accepted the kill,
For this is the way that he died;
For this is the way that he died.
Little dark dog, shivering in our black car;
Our last ride together, not going too far,
Only to the nearest hot, bright shining star;
Only to the nearest hot, bright shining star.
Every time I close my eyes, try to fall asleep,
I start to cry; nothing good is really ours to keep;
Thus I know the why that Simon died;
Thus I know the why that Simon died!
All I see this moment is Simon, on the vet’s table;
Head on his paws, his body stretched out, unable
To breathe just one more small breath;
Thus we have the portrait of Simon in death;
Thus we have the portrait of Simon in death.
This is what’s left when all life is gone;
Hope in our darkness, awaiting the dawn.
This is not Simon, for his essence is gone;
His doggie self has vanished, along with the sun,
Unless God restores him, our precious little one;
Unless God restores him, our precious little one.
Simon, our precious little one, in better moments!
Simon, last days. My precious little one.