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If I Knew It Was The Last Time.
A tribute to my dog, Pinot.
If I knew it was the last time I’d wake up and watch you sleep, I’d have stayed quiet longer and enjoyed the morning light playing on your fur as you lay there with your paw over your nose.
If I knew it was the last time we’d head off to work together, me coaxing you into the car, and you gamely obliging, I’d have taken more time and not been in such a rush to get there.
If I knew it would be the last time we’d go for a walk, you sauntering down the sidewalk sniffing every blade of grass, every light pole base, every tree, I’d have let you sniff the world around you until you didn’t want to anymore.
If I knew it would be the last time I made a bowl of food for you, I’d have put in more treats, cheese, and maybe some steak off my own plate.
If I knew it was the last time I’d lie next to you, feeling your enormous body next to mine, feeling you breathe softly as you slept, I’d have hugged you longer, feeling every curve of you.
If I knew it was the last time we’d relax in front of the television, you napping on the giant ottoman while your brother and I shared the sofa, I would have moved over to your side and never left.
If I knew it was the last time I’d stroke your soft fur and your velvety ears, I would have never stopped.
If I knew it was the last time I’d smell your lovely, doggy scent, I’d inhale it and commit it to memory.
If I knew it was the last time I’d give you gentle kisses, up and down the side of your face, on the top of your head, and down your ears, I’d have added a thousand more.
