The following was written especially upon the death of my
daughter's dog pictured here...he was tragically hit by a car
October 28, 2001.  We used to laughingly refer to her as
 Ms. Blueberry because of the regal way in which she posed
however most of the time we referred to her as
 'Blue'... she will long be missed by those who knew her.

When I put in the key within the lock upon my door,
I get the strangest feeling things are different than before.

I puzzle this a moment as the key turns in the lock,
Then once inside I pause, to hear the ticking of the clock.

I've never really noticed quite how loud it was before,
As usually there are other sounds that greet me at my door.

The frantic scrabbling of clumsy claws as they dash across the floor,
That heavy panting I can hear just beyond the door.

The impatient pads now shuffling as the key turns in the lock,
The snuffling snout in the open door drowns the ticking of the clock.

Yet now each day the key I have turns slowly in that lock,
For I know the only sound to greet me is the ticking of the clock.


Written on  November 1, 2001

By R.J. Salisbury For My Dear Friend Lisa

This Page Developed October 2002