The Only Eulogy I'll Ever Give

Was Junior religious?

A black kid that finally got the big German shepherd they always never wanted. Learning responsibility while they relied on me for the morning loaf and fish.

They'd followed me to school.

'So far, skateboarding so fast; it must be the promised land.'

When I returned with pets and treats as they felt their patience was finally being rewarded.

Wasn’t my idea to tether them up, but from the whimpering, it was injustice for crimes I never saw. Consequences that never seemed meant for the kid who climbed trees to not have his hot breath in their face, slobber on my hands.

Did junior recruit others to the cause with tales of long baths and tic removals, relieving itches of a thousand scratches, in the blistering heat?

Winters in the dog house must have seemed brutal when I wasn’t allowed to let them in.

I never saw their inability to be housebroken as a sin, merely a shitty inconvenience. Shouldn't have been handed to the ghost of weekends.

When I snuck entire legs and thighs to them in unsavory weather, was he hesitating on that last prayer, or salivating over his prideful devotion?

What did he think of me when he died? Summer vacation with the Grandparents, to this world now sunk to the fucking savages.

Killed by hunters after I felt secure that he would always come back, I think. Hindsight sparked at the leash we already never used. Free rein mutt, stomper of the leaves, waterer of the trees, and didn't even make the news...A note on the fridge after I sussed through the clues. "Junior! *whistles* Here, boy. Where you at?"

Were his dying howls spent cursing my name for freedom from his tether?

Did they know my name?

I told him his. In a way, I’ll never know. Did he ever speak mine?

I never found his body to grant him his well-deserved last rites. Struggled with the first ones, so I’m lost on the concept. but something dignified, I mean...

I imagine I would have paid his toll tenfold to be the Ferryman’s best friend for extra laps across the river.

But first, I would ask what religion do you practice? What do you call yourself? To the squirrels taunt you, or is it just a simple rivalry with the cats? Why did you follow me? Why did you look at me like that?

I’d like to think he was too bright for such a cause, petty squabbles. A dog on a mission.

But when I was forgetful, when I was fucking sick of his shit, when I watched him shiver in his dog house in the snow and rain, when I brought him inside yet confined him to a crowded laundry room and popped him one for not waiting for me to open the door to shit, when I forced them out in a temperament, I wouldn’t brave myself for any old flimsy reason, he ran towards me with cautious glee, tongue where all can see, again and again, and regardless of my intent I showed him, love, first. Good lesson, that...

He always deserved it. He deserved more. I didn’t fully understand that then. Still rubs me raw now.

Listen to me; God damn, choked up over a dog.

Fuck it, I miss you, buddy.

This eulogy is far too late, but I hope it shows I still haven’t forgotten you, if not anyone else. Rest with the Fido and Wishbones, my friend.