It was an early melancholy morning
She woke up more alive that day.
Just enough to make us question ourselves
And let doubt slip back into our hearts.

A grilled hotdog for breakfast
The very first time in nearly eight years.
She would be the queen that day
I slowly massaged her hind legs and behind her ears.

She looked towards the front door
Does she want to go for a walk?
I wondered how far she could make it
As I slipped on my sandals and grabbed her leash.

As we entered the early morning darkness
She pulled me with a familiar eagerness.
That tugging made me doubt yet again
Are we doing the right thing?

Shortly after making it to the street
I heard her labored breath.
The panting set in quickly
Her eagerness was being overcome by the chaos in her chest.

We lazily meandered along the asphalt
But stayed close to our house.
No stern commands to keep the pace
Only affirming words spoken by my cracking voice.

So, she walked me this time.
She got to choose the route.
We often veered into the grass
As she explored and sniffed wherever she pleased.

She soon guided me toward our front yard
Then laid out in the grass to rest.
We hung out there together for a few minutes
We made our last walk the best.