smelling death

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Jernee Timid, losing all of her energy after the initial injection on her last day with us. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

near the end, I think
my neighbor’s dog could
smell death on Jernee–could
identify she didn’t have long.

and every time I saw them
walking toward us, I’d stiffen.
my body would become a
tabernacle–solid and silent.

he’d sniff his friend, searching
Jernee for evidence of life,
and when he didn’t find it,
he’d whine to his mom.

it wasn’t until Jernee’s last
couple of days on this earth
that I realized Winnie, in his
own way, had already mourned
Jernee’s life.

he’d been greeting her death,
and I just didn’t want to
believe it.

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