The Revenant

I have always loved this poem. A few years ago, I think I heard Billy Collins recite it on 'This American Life' and it's stuck with me. This morning I watched "My Dog: An Unconditional Love Story" which I'll admit is a sappy way to spend a Sunday morning, but I really don't care. I cried. I don't mind admitting that either. Maya's only two and a half, but every singe day I dread her passing. When she had her first seizure, I wept and begged her not to leave me. She didn't understand what the big deal was. I have more love for her than my partner and friends combined which perhaps is unhealthy, but again, I don't care.

In the movie, Billy Collins was being interviewed and he said that the best way to test whether your spouse or dog loves you more is to lock them both in a trunk for an hour and see who is more happy to see you when you open it back up. The dog always wins.

The Revenant - Billy Collins

I am the dog you put to sleep,

as you like to call the needle of oblivion,

come back to tell you this simple thing:

I never liked you--not one bit.

When I licked your face,

I thought of biting off your nose.

When I watched you toweling yourself dry,

I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap.

I resented the way you moved,

your lack of animal grace,

the way you would sit in a chair to eat,

a napkin on your lap, knife in your hand.

I would have run away,

but I was too weak, a trick you taught me

while I was learning to sit and heel,

and--greatest of insults--shake hands without a hand.

I admit the sight of the leash

would excite me

but only because it meant I was about

to smell things you had never touched.

You do not want to believe this,

but I have no reason to lie.

I hated the car, the rubber toys,

disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives.

The jingling of my tags drove me mad.

You always scratched me in the wrong place.

All I ever wanted from you

was food and fresh water in my metal bowls.

While you slept, I watched you breathe

as the moon rose in the sky.

It took all of my strength

not to raise my head and howl.

Now I am free of the collar,

the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater,

the absurdity of your lawn,

and that is all you need to know about this place

except what you already supposed

and are glad it did not happen sooner--

that everyone here can read and write,

the dogs in poetry, the cats and the others in prose.