For Nellie Jo - Danielle Bryant

[Larry Robinson]

For Nellie Jo

I remember the landscape in your eyes  
alone and petrified, we took you in  
coaxing with a Christmas ham from a neighbor was good
and to seal the bet, our diplomatic Rottweiler befriended
it took the edge off being lost on a holiday
your thin matte black coat and nails worn rough
was telling enough  
we never got the full story where you’d been and
weeks in, when no one claimed you 
we gave you a name 
soon we found how others were unkind to you 
it arrived in your bad manners and temperament 
biting white jagged teeth 
insecure with bitches less than you
we pulled you off fights by the hind legs
we didn’t know you 
but your softness belied the toughness
when we taught you to swim, you were all legs 
pounding in the green water 
over and over your target
during the summer in Grass Valley
it seemed you found your calling then 
when the idea of a home became easier,
we were troubled in our marriage and
you showed us how persistence and goofiness
were the best tricks to a happiness 
and when you stopped chasing the ball
we forgot how to play too
but you stayed with us
much later, one Thanksgiving 
when whole bowls of water
emptied onto the wood floors telling us how you’d fallen
and the imminent months ahead
increased with medications
we doubted if we could care for you 
in the same carefree way you did us
but we tried
the days ensued, opened slowly
and slower beside you
we didn’t know when the end
so we asked you 
for some sign on the road to Stop
and when you did, it was clear (enough)
on a searing summer blue day 
trembling like in the beginning 
we touched your thick down for comfort
and held onto you, but first
we brought you to the lush, open field where you once played
when it was time to go
your deep brown eyes blinked a few more times into mine
and closed in again 
towards home.

	- Danielle Bryant