My first friend
in this park always looked
for a cuddle - the kind couple still
come to the park, but now
without her.
Moving to a new place also means getting to know new dogs. As a dogowner who walks the family dog daily, I always meet a lot of dogs. There are many daily walkers in our park, and the first friend I made was a little French bulldog lady. Already a little aging, but full with spirit. She always came to me to get her cuddle, although she was not particularly fond of my dog. The kind couple walking her are always up for an exchange of a couple of words. Which is great for my local language skills. I quickly learned that this was their son's dog, and I always looked forward to meeting them.
Then I saw them a couple of times without their little princess. I thought she might be on vacation with her family, but that was not what was happening. She was really aging now, and not able to do longer walks anymore. A few months later, she passed away.
That was probably the first time that a dog I knew from the neighbourhood moved on before I did.
The poem above is a triptriplicata, a form I created a few years ago.
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The post and poem above reminded me of the many other places we were regular dogwalkers. Also with our previous dog. One of his friends was a dachshund named Rocky. They met in a dog playground in Riga and loved running in the snow.
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