It’s not the sharp teeth

or strong jaws that will

rip your heart from your chest.

It’s not even the carnivorous

instinct that puts you at risk.

 

It’s the eyes, big and brown,

that speak their own language

and see what you can’t.

It’s the floppy ears

that hear beyond words.

It’s the tail, that needle on

the barometer of joy.

 

It’s the ability to invade

home and heart, expanding

both and filling them wholly.

It’s the love, abundant,

ever-present, even when it’s

unearned, undeserved.

It’s the moments, the memories,

the head on your shoulder,

the adventures, the antics.

 

It’s the concern that sneaks

into your head, the worry

that sickens you with fear.

It’s the hours on the floor,

stroking soft fur, spoon-feeding,

talking tenderly, watching for hope.

It’s heavy decisions, doubting,

wondering, praying, begging.

 

And finally, it’s goodbye,

letting go, and pain, so much pain,

so much grief, so much loss,

that you risk

with a dog.

Beware.