Lady Burgess DiBartolomeo

A springtime day in April I received a special gift,
for my birthday form my husband and from someone up above.
We picked her up in May and in my arms she laid,
on that first sunny day she stayed with me and played and played and played.
At that first moment I felt she was different than any pet I’d had,
for she followed me everywhere and even with her dad.
The rounds she would make every night in the house
To ensure we were safe for a peaceful night nap
The door it would ring and she was right by my side
To make sure it was someone who was a friend of mine.
When it was time for “bye bye for a ride” she sat in her seat like a special friend of mine.
We'd get coffee and newspaper and she would always know that her special little cookies were always part of the show.
When daddy would came home each day she would run and jump and squeal.
She would wait until the car had stopped then greet her daddy so dear.
At night she would unmake our bed as if she knew it was time.
She would warm the spot that daddy slept each and every night
A nudge from her nose she would want to have a pat.
She would gently squeeze between her mummy and dad for her hug and her kiss our gentle night nap.
On New Year’s Eve the fire works came and our baby went to panic
She ran and ran and never stopped, not even for a breath and
she tried to find some comfort from anyone she met.
A lovely couple found her collar attached beneath their gate
but she was still no where in sight, so we were on the make.
On the side of the road was she, not a breath to her body they found
We were thankful to the animal control who gave her back to us,
for I needed her at home with me, for me that was her spot
Her ashes, her photos, collar and her dish
will forever remain at our side.
A senseless death, a tragedy to all of us we know.
The hurt, the pain the broken heart of daddy, it seems will never go
The empty house is horribly quiet, her water bowl the same
It’s very hard for us you know to enter and feel the pain.
We search for comfort anywhere but it will never take the place,
of the warmth of her body, the touch of her fur and the sound of her bark, the love in her eyes that only belongs to her.
She was our Lady, our Lady Bug, our baby, our daughter and now we have a hole,
that we can't fill or stop the pain that's deep inside our soul.
And how do you recover from that?

Deborah and Richard DiBaartolomeo