My dog Abbey was thirteen years old
when I knew her. She always hated me
until the day she was put down.
I remember that whenever I would try
to pet her she would run.
Also I remember that when I was two
she bit my wrist I have tiny scars.
She lived in two of the houses
we have moved to.
One in Royal Oak MI. Another in Washington MI.
Now whenever I see movies with me and her
I know what she was thinking…
She was thinking “Oh great here comes
that annoying little kid again!” [go figure].
I always loved her and I still do.
I remember when I would follow her
into the basement I would play
like my dads tools were
green eggs and ham
and I would try to show her
how that worked she never listened
(go figure).[again go figure].
I remember the day we had to put her down
she looked at me in such a sad way
I wanted to grab her and run!
But I didn’t.
My mom had to drag me out
of the vet’s office
that day. I asked my mom
“Where will they bury her?
Will we ever see her grave?”
My mom simply replied “I have no clue.”
That was the last time I saw Abbey and
she will always be missed.
Sometimes I even think she knows
she is because at night
if I listen carefully I swear
I can hear the softest whimper and
I know that it is her.
Good~Bye Abbey I Love You,