The Way Home
As its name is intended to suggest, this feature of The Zoo Fence is a catchall, where we place our stuff that does not seem to belong anywhere else, perhaps even anywhere at all, but which we are nonetheless moved to share.
May I Go Now?
Our hearts are wounded, and bleeding. Soon, a scab will form, the wound will heal, and we will recover. But never will we be the same, for her life and her death impacted us indelibly.
By coincidence (whatever precisely that may mean), some few days before the eighth, an anonymous visitor to The Zoo Fence alerted us to this poem. We are convinced that our four-legged friend, who towards the end was suffering physical pain, wanted us to read and heed these words, and that it was she who, in some way we do not fully understand, arranged to have them brought to our attention.
This poem appears on numerous websites across the internet, and is attributed variously, but most often as “Written for a beloved pet & friend by Susan A. Jackson”. Grateful to the author and the TZFer, we reproduce it here for its aptness to our own circumstances, and because it might be appropriate to other visitors to The Zoo Fence.
May I Go Now?
May I go now?
I didn't want to go at first,
But I will try as best I can
I'll not be far,
So hold me now just one more time
(For more about this event, please click here.)
At the very selfsame instant,
Now, I thank her for the effort expended
on my behalf,
I choose to accept neither as mine.
Yesterday, I forgot to wind the clock.
If the clock's not ticking
Oh, dear. What have I done?
Um. What if today tomorrow yesterday
Agh! I wish I had wound the clock,