When we first married and moved to Ireland, our family expanded with the addition of a large, lovely, Labrador/Collie cross named Ollie. When Ollie went to doggie heaven, our family had grown to include three children. But we missed the company of a dog, and so we offered a home to a boisterous German Shepherd/Retriever cross we named Beano (after the children’s comic, much loved by our young son). Beano was only eight when we lost him inexplicably to cancer. We were devastated, and I penned this little poem about him soon after.
On a happier note, we now have two five-year-old dogs – Pepper, a beautiful bouncy Boxer/Lab, and Toby, a rescue Collie cross with melt-your heart eyes.
But here, I remember Beano.
Beano
There’s a gap on the mat next to the fire.
And in the middle room.
And in the corner of the kitchen.
A Beano-shaped gap.
And there’s one in the empty bed
that used to sit in the utility room,
And in the kennel, beside the Ollie-shaped gap.
The bowl is silent – cymbals rattle no more.
The gate, no longer jumped upon.
The postman, safe.
There’s a gap in our hearts,
a void in our lives.
But close our eyes, and picture him –
by the fire,
running ahead along the road,
lying in the sun, spread-eagled for a pat.
And the gap is filled
with the love of Beano.
belindabee.com 