I recently had to put a pet down for the first time. I’d had Tazzle for 7 years, since she was almost a year old, and she was a loving, loyal cat who got rapidly and inexplicably sick, losing much of her body weight, her ability to walk, and her ability to control her bladder in a matter of days. I made up a little ditty as I drove her to the vet, and sang to her the whole way there, then petted her until the light left her eyes.
I don’t know that I believe in an afterlife, but I do know that she was loved, and she’s no longer in pain. I can’t really ask for more than that.
She used to love being called Razzle Dazzle Tazzle, and I’d call her over to me with that and she’d come running, purring up a storm. This poem is for her.
I’d like to say I remember a day
when scattered hopes are gathered,
but the pounding in my head
leaves me far too bruised and battered.
You’ve been gone for two days
and already I’m a haze
of bad dreams, restless sleep
and a numbness I can’t beat.
I search for happy endings
whenever I try to write,
but tonight tears pour too free,
water drowning my sight.
Tazzle, you were far too young
to be given to the Reaper.
He laid his claim just the same,
no longer here to suffer.
Razzle Dazzle, dance on stars,
but remember me someday.
Find me when I leave this life,
old and wizened gray.
We’ll tumble down a rainbow
together that day.