Bubba-Acorn St.Louis

01 Jun

The children are gone. No one to harass him,

 no one to rub his belly, no one for him to sleep on

with his snorting snoring  dead weight;

eventually to be pushed off their bed sliding to the floor.

It was his cue to guard and wait in case a monster should appear;

or their Guardian Angel should escape.

 Though, neither ever did.


He sleeps on his worn multi colored “blankie”

in the hallway by the cellar door. Frame still marked with fading

number two pencils recording the incremental height and ages

of all his best friends; with yikes and eeks with progress proclaimed,

 including him-self. Except for being a little wider,

his last few marks of height hardly changed.

He wakes at the groan and creak of the sticking kitchen door.

Once a signal for action now takes some comfort in what he sees,

not having to get up, greeting only me.


I miss the squirrels that insisted on joining me

when I sat under the shade of our China Maple tree.

And, those in the woods that would introduce themselves,

seeing my small sack of pumpkin seeds,

chattering along the path in welcoming screech.


And you too, my fine companion, Bubba-Acorn St.Louis;

chasing the squirrels that taunted you, scurrying to be seen,

sometimes on a branch as low as three feet.

They would squat and you would watch them peeling in propensity

as they filled their cheeks, scattering chipped empty split shells

that you would forever sniff with acceptance,

and patience, as they gathered at your feet;

as if returning a kiss, half on guard and half asleep.


And, when that final evening fell, having yourself to go home,

reminding me it was time for me to go alone

to refill an empty bag with something other than a handful of seeds.


The house is for sale now.

The woods have been logged.

Weeds choke the once abundant gardens.

The flowerbeds strain to push up the surviving perennials.

The walkway, pressed down by melting snow and driving rains

is covered with un-swept leaves.

 The house is empty of comfortable furniture, warmth, and  laughter.

I’m frozen at the door.

Bubba passed away yesterday,

no one left to meet me as I come through the door.

Melancholy embraces me. I explain, apologizing

“no one I know lives here anymore”.

 I turn and leave without a trace, to a place I have never been before.




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14 responses to “Bubba-Acorn St.Louis

  1. Ankita

    June 3, 2014 at 3:28 am

    I am sorry for your loss ZQ…Dogs are beautiful creatures, they can touch our lives in a way humans rarely can. May he rest in peace.


  2. kimnelsonwrites

    June 2, 2014 at 5:01 pm

    Few are skilled enough to enable readers to be and feel and understand these intense moments. You are. I did. I am so sorry for your loss.


  3. 1sojournal

    June 2, 2014 at 4:25 pm

    Loss of beloved pet is far more distressing than most people imagine. He had a long life and a wonderful friendship,



  4. Stormcat

    June 2, 2014 at 4:13 pm

    As melancholy as the days without are now, is not as beautiful as the remembrance you have written in this tribute . . . I am sad for your loss but grateful that you could share it so openly with all of us here.


  5. ebbtide

    June 2, 2014 at 12:30 pm

    beautiful, heartfelt piece – I hope you can soon find yourself in that space where the memories bring more comfort than they do pain


  6. Grace

    June 1, 2014 at 5:04 pm

    Sorry about your loss ~ This is one sad post ~


  7. Cressida de Nova

    June 1, 2014 at 2:09 pm

    I am so sorry for your loss. Big hugs to you sweet one. This will not be an easy time for you losing your best friend.


  8. Sherry Marr

    June 1, 2014 at 2:08 pm

    Oh my friend, not Bubba, that big old sweetie. I am so sorry. How empty your house must feel, and will continue to feel. “No one I know lives here any more.” So sad. My heart hurts for thinking about it. All of that life, the children, the marks on the doorframe, that loving dog who shared it all with you……..he had a good life, ZQ, but how you will miss him.


  9. Gabriella

    June 1, 2014 at 1:21 pm

    I am sorry you lost your dog, ZQ. He sounded like a great and faithful companion. Your words are a beautiful and poignant tribute to the kind of dog he was.


  10. brian miller

    June 1, 2014 at 11:25 am

    three is a certain melacholy to your words…a feeling of things coming to a close and unsure of what to look forward to…all the marks on the door…now go unchanging…not looking forward to that…we do our boys marks every couple months….heavy heart to see those we love (pet or otherwise) pass…


  11. arandomstateofmind

    June 1, 2014 at 11:16 am

    I can understand your pain…very much ..for I’ve gone through this… 😦 have a look if you have time on this post about my beloved pet…the cutest creature ever lived..


  12. kaykuala

    June 1, 2014 at 10:26 am

    I finally manage to connect to you, sir! You’ve commented twice before and I was hunting all over to hunt for RK Garon!

    Beautiful rendition, very touching! It moves one to tears to be told there’s no more Bubba! An animal lover will certainly miss Bubba’s presence, wagging its tail and all!, Great one RK!



  13. skipmars

    June 1, 2014 at 9:03 am

    A good run, though. And yes, all dogs DO go to heaven.


  14. Mary

    June 1, 2014 at 9:00 am

    Truly this brought tears to my eyes. I am such a dog lover. I feel the presence of Bubba in this poem, the love he shared with his human family (many now grown), the joys he shared. I can see that Bubba truly loved and was loved, but it doesn’t make it any easier to return home to an empty house… Rest in Peace, Bubba.



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