What is your favorite poem?

Forgot who asked this one.

Well, I don't have one I have three: Championship, Pets, and Scar of My Life.

Why these?

Well, they all are about the same subject, but a different lesson for each. Texas Red was one of my American Pit Bull Terriers. I knew him from the day his eyes opened. I had him for seven years. From age 11 to 18. I trained him to be a guard dog but he became my closest companion.

He was the runt of the litter. He was also the smartest one. To give you an example, the pups had a paint bucket for water (of course there was no paint in it). Red being the runt was the last to get water. All the other pups would stand against the paint bucket and drink until their tongues couldn't reach the water. Red would stick his head into the bucket and get all the water he needed! (that still makes me laugh). That was the day a friend of my dad's gave me Red as a birthday present. A couple asked if he was for sale. My reply was no and that was the best decision I made. 

Championship was a poem I wrote (about 1 year after his death) after considering why I been in so many bad relationships. I started to realized I wanted a companion like my previous dog Red. That I kept trying to replace what I lost the day he died. 

Pets is a poem I wrote (About 2 years after his death) reflecting on how we can never forget those pets we loved more than anything. The ones that became more than an animal. The ones that became closer than your family.

Scar of my Life (about 3 years after his death) was written to express the regret I had of that night. Also to show that just like a scar the memory is always there as a reminder of something I did. In this case something I find hard to forgive myself for. 

All give details of that night and morning. I find it hard to put the details together without choking up. The details are so vivid in my memory. It was February 13 2015. As said in my poem it was 40 degrees Fahrenheit, so I opened the back door to call Red inside. When he didn't respond I was worried cause he never ran away. I went outside in the yard and found him near the corner of the yard with vomit not far from him. 

I started calling him but when he tried walking he struggled. I carried him about halfway across the yard. He didn't want to move so I just hugged and kissed his forehead. After what may have been 30 minutes, my parents came out and asked what was wrong. I told them Red wasn't feeling good. I eventually covered him with a blanket that night. I said a prayer with tears dropping from my heart and soul. 

Next morning around 5 am I looked for Red in the yard. I found his body not far from the shed. Just lying there colder and stiffer than stone. His eyes covered by gnats. It took a moment for the thought that he was dead to sink in but when it did I held back the tears. I and my siblings got two garbage bags, a pair of gloves each and two shoves to make him a grave. I wouldn't let them step on his grave to even out the dirt. After we were done, my sisters made a cross out of two sticks and set flowers. I held my tears till they left.