Dobermann

       
       
       
My girl stood sixty seven centimetres      
       
but I remember my girl when she was a baby,        
her paws stumbling around the place as her        
docked ears stand to attention      
       
it was a small place but we managed, meaning my bed became her bed, every night she curled in a ball listening to a ticking clock emulating her mothers heartbeat, I slowly becoming something of a mothers warmth as her eyes closed dreaming of her next walk

in return she taught me a great deal more,        
       
my fearless guide to the point of no return who knew routine and disciplined me to be a better human, soft whimpers that knew I was in pain, licking salt tears rolling down my pale arms, pacing around knowing it was time for the woods by rattling her leash hanging from a battered coathanger, jumping five foot for her frisbee, working patiently to retrieve all the good things because they must arrive eventually, paws on my lap reminding me that a fur heart will stand every season right beside you      
       
in return I grew like her, knowing the strength and resilience it takes to remain soft in a world that is turning colder and darker, to face fear when it decides to stare right back at you,        
surviving everything purely out of spite no matter what hides around the corner waiting to surprise you.      
       
       
My girl stood sixty seven centimetres      
but she taught me how to rage in love.