I did not include this in my article, but as a sub post because I felt that I was perhaps being a bit too indulgent. However, I think anyone who has grieved a loss knows, it is not a terrible thing to take a moment and feel the pain of the loss. As I move through life, this has been one of the poems that means most to me. "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night," by Dylan Thomas. I realize that Dylan Thomas was NOT referring to a geriatric puppy, but for me the shape doesn't really matter. What counts is soul and personality - all of which Mahkayla had in spades. I truly feel that Mahkayla lived to the end as hard as she could, I wish that it could have been kept up longer. I hope to have that same joie de vivre as I walk to the light - not beaten, but striving to live and move on.


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.