Tinker

I.

Once you were fast.

Now you’re slow.

The hairs on your back

fade and go. 

II.

Sharp with sight.

Now you’re blind. 

And you’re deaf

your formative years behind. 

III.

The days nears.

Arthritis sets in.

Once tough,

now holding on is no win. 

IV.

Tinker’s days near.

And her bodily functions fail.

Even to get up

and wag that stubby tail. 

V.

Don’t have the heart

to put her down.

But the pain is something

I can’t let her drown. 

VI.

Good-bye my sweet Tinker.

It’s time  you sleep in your den

One day we’ll again meet

and we’ll play again.