Sometimes The End Comes At The Beginning.

Simba The Greyhound and I

were walking in twilight,

strolling along through a country Gum-grove,

enjoying ourselves

with a herd of steers keeping pace,

alongside,

behind the fence

as my girl, the ex-racer, was at my heel,

when our lives were to change

from peace to pain,

from joy to sorrow

and what still does remain

in my cells,

in my heart

and deep in my lungs

is the crash and the agony,

the scream and the steers

and the story I write

after fifteen years of tears.

We were happy on this summers night,

we went there often in the quiet,

through the long grass

on a beaten dirt track,

along government land

a place to see, a place to be

with rural fields on either side

a welcoming retreat

through which to stride.

And then she saw the sitting rabbit

and leapt from my heels

to an outstanding pace

to a flying speed

dancing through space

like a sleek racer

and I could see her way up ahead

leaping high in the sky

and the joy filled my heart,

I felt she was running free

so far ahead of me.

The herd of steers was trailing her

and I remember it was an amazing sight

until she crashed in pain

and the steers stopped still in their field

as I ran as fast as I could

knowing I would

not be able to lift, or carry her

the miles back to my car,

and in the fear

I was comforted by steers

who stayed at the fence watching over her

while I found a Vet to come to her aid

and in his Ute

the last journey we made.

I knew in my heart

as immense sorrow smashed in

this was the end

to the walk we began,

this was the time I will never forget,

as I found her under the barbed-wire line

which was strung between trees without any sign.

I sat up all night with her head in my lap

not knowing how to bury her.

And in the morning I lay flowers in that grass

with many steers leaning-in

facing me over the fence,

our connection in grief was truly immense.

I have always been a dog-lover and I have shared much of my life with my pets as my best friends. You know, the way you just do connect so deeply with dog-spirit energy and feel such immense gratitude for their unconditional love and acceptance of you.

 After Simba’s accident, I held the grief so deeply.  I had ‘adopted her’ in a foster care way, with the understanding that she would return to the farm for a breeding season. Though we only shared 6 months together, I loved her calm and placid nature. And I thought there would come a way to save her from more breeding.

But not that way.  And not during our happiest time together.

And herein lies my pain.

 “Sometimes the end comes at the beginning”.

Simba By The Winterpond