Father and Son Bury a Dog
by David Boutwell
January 17, 2007
You've always been good
at doing those difficult chores
no one likes to do
Maybe it's some old yankee trait
or just grim determination, I don't know which...
You're one of the best at doing something
simply because it must be done
and maybe that's a gift you've given me
and so it is, today,
with this chore
that you and I have taken on
The dog lies lifeless, outside his house
just a small spot of black fur painted
on a white pallet of snow
the stiffness of death embracing
his legs and neck already
There's no grinning-snout face or wagging-tail greeting for me this day
just quiet...
except
for the tinny sound of a freezing rain
on this snowy November ground
His eyes look at me now
just two cold glazed-black marbles
mocking me with stillness
You're in a hurry
to go start digging the hole
while I lift the dog into the wheelbarrel...
you grab the shovel as I curse
that old musty burlap that covers
his hardening body
As I wheel this death-load through the trail in the woods
I find myself thinking of my two childrens' births and
the powerful feeling of holding
a new life in my hands
this moment is everything opposite of that one, but still as holy
These are hard minutes
The freezing rain falls
and mixes with tears
as shovelfuls of dirt
pile on top of the crusted snow
The fear of touching death
grows heavier with me
and the dog's slide into its new home is harsher than I'd like
I only want him in... and covered...
quickly
We stand there
drenched to the skin
The hard contrast of freshly turned soil against white snow
brings another tear down my cheek
I think of new-born puppies
I think of dog years
and the smallness of our place in time
You are quiet as you put away
the dirt-stained shovel
and clean the mustard-colored wheelbarrel...
...your tears stay buried
About the author:
I'm a self-employed carpenter living on a one-acre spread in north central Massachusetts with my wife and two college-aged children. Learning the ways of country life after spending a lifetime in a city setting.I enjoy reading, dabbling in poetry now and then and travelling and touring with my wife. My dream would be to have a book of poetry published one day and leave some sort of legacy behind when I'm gone.
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