Solace:  None

Act in haste, repent at leisure;
an old proverb has visited us
claiming an understated prominence
in our lives, intruding and causing
us to dwell on what we would
far prefer to tamp into the far
recesses of regret and loss.

It is of little solace to fondly
recall her early presence in our
lives, her alert and adventurous
spirit, her sweet companionship.
Then intrudes her elderly frailty,
robust youth and enthusiasm fled
into blindness and memory loss.

Her incidents of hurtful blunders
in blindness, inability to hear
our voices, as familiarity with
her surroundings took on another
dimension, learning anew her
boundaries averting despair and 
loss of her valued independence.

The last insult of life courting death
past her 19th year of life, a near
lethal stroke warning how near was
the Grim Reaper.  The panic, to do
something, anything, to prolong
her time with us resulting in
veterinarian advice to advance the

inevitable for on the cusp of death
nothing could be done to reverse
or avert it.  Now, here we are, bereft,
missing her even as we see her faint
presence everywhere she had been
for she is resolutely still with us, our
companion; here and yet, not there.