MY BEST FRIEND

DUKE
 
He lies faithfully at my side;
in dog years he has celebrated
80 years of life. His eyes
are dim; his teeth have
fallen out. Like an infant,
he must live on a diet of
liquids and soft foods.
His once strong and swift
legs that ran for miles
are now racked with pain;
he moves only when he
needs to relieve himself.
His tail still wags slowly
when he hears or sees me;
he perks up at the sound
of my voice. How long
does he have? I don't know
but I already miss him.
I am also reminded that
if I live long enough I see
in him what I will be.
And that's okay. Do
humans go to dog heaven
or vice-versa?