When I saw your scruffy face on the shelter’s website
I thought you were the one.
A virtual match connecting you to me,
You busy little bee.
Your golden hair and your button nose
Imprinted in my memory.
One simple picture, one slightly too-perky name.
A sign, a wish, a silent hope
That you would be the pet for me.
When I saw you curled hidden in the corner
Like the strands of an abandoned mop
You left me unraveled.
The sight of you like a punch sick memory
Of so much left unfixed
And the need in me to mend it all.
To sew it up, to make it new,
The lie, the need, the uncorked screw
Left from so much troubled wine
It turns to vinegar on my tongue.
The hiss, the hum, the unhooked view
of a world that didn’t belong to me and you.
I cry for the loss I will not know
and the chip off the block I know too well.
Let It Bespoken 
Dear Marlene,
I am astounded by the coincidence of this blog.
My poochie was Chip (Chippy) Off The Liberty Block. That was his legal name. He wasn’t a shelter dog but one I got from a great breeder in the hills of New Hampshire. He lived a long life, one month shy of his 15th year, and the last thing we did together was go to the beach. His health failed suddently as we walked back to our house, and he died the next day. Going to the beach was Chippy’s favorite thing to do and I was happy I could give him that.
When I read this blog I was packing my bag to leave Nantucket. Your words reminded me that I was also leaving Chippy. He’s there, and will always be.
Maybe I’ll send you a photo of him via email.
I hope you are well. Enjoying your blogs.
Susan
I would love to see pictures! I’m so glad this poem resonated with you. I would love to hear how you’ve been when you can…