She slept on the floor by the side of my bed,
Snoring softly in the darkness.
When it was time, she’d awaken me gently and
I’d reluctantly lurch with her to the front door;
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, clear, rain, wind, snow…it didn’t matter;
I’d let her out and trust her to come back.
If it was wet or snowy, I learned to have a towel handy.
My parents never stirred, nor did my sister,
It was just me and the dog.
She’d come back; I’d let her in and we’d go down the hall to my room,
But she’d stop at each door to make sure nobody’d left while she was out.
Before I fell back asleep, she always thanked me with a sniff
And stretched out on the floor where my hand could trail to touch.
Sometimes I’d hear her snoring begin again;
Sometimes I wouldn’t.
(Moon: ajr.org; Schnauzer: schnauzer-help.ru)