You were 95 per cent perfect like
Queen, until they released Hot Space (try it)
Most of the time you were reliable
Most of the time you were adorable.
Your eyes so big and stare-y, like a fish
Sleeping anywhere you could squish those legs
Your bichromatic ears, always flapping
Giving you that puzzled of puzzled looks.
You liked to bring me your favourite toy
Nuzzle me ’til I’d tug your rope of war
Slurping your water loud and urgently
Before flopping your belly gravel down.
but sometimes you’d
—just fucking lose it and go
nuts
because of your strange brain
messing
up
the
rhythm,
the
routine,
the rules
causing chaos, precipitating panic, triggering tumult
(was it a
difficult puppy-hood?)
>>>>the triggers were at least clear
food
dogs
foxes
dogs
food
I learned how to rescue jaw-clenched small dogs
You meant no harm, you’re just a teeth hugger
Less successful removing the butter
Or your diggy paws from the recycling.
One would never know when; your special gift
Unpredictable events; canine quantum decay
A switch got flipped, neurones backfired: he’s off!
Tender snuffling put on hold — eyes glazed over.
You see, Kirby was destined for greatness
But nature had other plans for this one
He shan’t be guiding; it wasn’t for him
The desire for fun just too instinctive.
What fun you found to have, home and away
Joining the pizza picnic, unannounced
Eating the whole loaf of bread, and its bag
Howling on the train like a wolf possessed.
You’ve gone now, not to heaven, to Norfolk
My loss is Little Walsingham’s gain
I’ll remember your oh-so funny ways
Forever more — my unique canine friend.
Ode to Kirb y was originally published in trenchantly on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.