Time of year has come for dog to shed winter coat.
Returns in small single fur flying off when petted.
Days later fur begins to be pulled by tufts.
Brushing is the rule each other day.
Fur brushed off turns into a pile.
It grows and grows until–
You can almost make another dog from it.
Then summer coat comes in at last.
Until we wait for fall to change coat from summer to winter.
Return of loose fur has arrived
Shedding is means of the day
My remote fell from chair.
I went to pick it up near the wall.
There between edges of carpet
I found a piece your creme brulee fur.
I picked the strand and held it between my fingers.
I looked at how it went white to brown.
Strand of fur was near where you loved to lay near chair.
I sighed remembering how much I missed you;
You were my friend and companion.
I placed the fur on your memory rock,
Letting you know I was thinking about you;
Hoping you would bound in with your smile
And ask me to pet and massage your furry coat.
She looks so warm in furry coat
Weather of winter doesn’t faze her
I look at her– “can I have that fur from thee?”
She looks up upon my question,
Head tilt she sighs to give an answer
“No, my fur is attached to me,
All zippered up the zipper tucked neatly,
Within the fold of fur you will not find.
I can’t take off unless you fur cut my fur
I won’t allow it, for I need my fur.”
“Guess I’ll be content then to snuggle with you”
“Fine with me,” she agrees
As she puts her furry self towards me.