Portia

in her old age, she gets to sleep on the new couch,
it was new not too long ago, now the leather has been
softened under so many doggy toenails.
in her old age, she can eat whatever she wants, as long as
she eats is all we care about and she must wonder why she
didn't act ill earlier, so many cookies and dog treats could
have been had.
in her old age, we fuss over her and give her extra hugs,
she still wags her tail and turns her nose up at what used
to send her into waves of ecstasy, even the chicken fat
left over from making soup no longer interests her.
we have taken to making airplane noises to get her to
open her mouth and hope the food does not drop to the
ground uneaten, unheard of before now.
in her old age, we appreciate her intelligent face,
how she guards the house while sleeping, and
how she licks the wet warmth from your newly
showered skin.
we try not to think past the phrase in her old age,
it would seem to lonely to think of her gone.