He's bundled in a sea of pink and grey.
His beady, dark, black eyes look at me now.
Only seeing his shoulders, neck and head
In a sea of fleece, he is looking out:
apple head,erect ears and wet black nose.
He looks alert as if he's just heard "treat"
His fawn body is ... anticipating.
This is the very first dog that's been mine.
He's my very best friend, a Chihuahua.
A birth defect is hidden by blankets,
his right front leg looks like a chicken wing.
and now that's what I call him: Chicken Wing.
Looking at his painting he's immortal
Forever he's in fawn, white, black and pink,
Yearning, begging for the treat he wants.
On canvas he will stay young forever,
but in life he's getting older each day.
And so is my grandpa who painted him.
In real life their white hair is expanding.
Trips to the doctor have taken their toll.
Inevitably they'll be gone one day.
But I will still have hanging on my wall
a small piece of their immortality.
Chicken Wing will always be watching me
reminding me of how to be a friend,
and with every line, and with every stroke
of loving pinks, I will think of Grandpa.
I will remember their perfect friendship,
And even though it will hurt to miss them
They will live Forever in this painting.
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