i hope this finds you well

i hope this finds you well

and in (grave) peace

you were meant to be here 

when we brought our next baby home 

fresh and warm

like a loaf of bread

you were meant to greet us

at the top of the stairs

barking, jumping, being all in the way

shedding your little orange blades 

tail thumping

and us wincing, wondering aloud how it doesn’t hurt

(we are still wincing)

you were meant to, at best, tolerate her

and we were meant to praise you, deeply, for that

you were meant to be here each night so i could tell you

sorry

for not playing as much as i used to 

for there being less room on the bed 

for my dwindling patience

and i am still meant to be scratching

behind your ears

and you are still meant to be tearing

through the park 

and waiting below the high chair

and taking up the whole couch 

and avoiding baths

and did you know i can still hear you

sometimes, in the night

your disgruntled signs

your snores

i can still hear your nails clatter as you rise 

and race off to do something very important 

and did you know 

that i still miss you terribly

and that i still expect to pull open the door 

and let you in.