Scoogie

I meet my neighbor,
walking his little white dog.
The dog's not in good shape,
elderly, missing seventeen teeth,
but my neighbor loves him—
"There'll be an ache 
in my heart when Scoogie
goes," he said.
My neighbor has it figured out:
"When he goes, I want him
cremated and I told my son
to keep his urn, and
when I go, his urn
should be at the bottom of
my casket, so
we can go up there together.
And if I die first,
his ashes
should be scattered
on my grave."
My neighbor had two wives 
and buried them both.
"What can you do?" he asks.
For now, he walks his 
little white dog.

Jean Tobin, Ph.D., is or has been variously a poet, painter of watercolors, writer of scholarly books, co-founder of the land trust Glacial Lakes Conservancy, flute player and singer, Professor Emerita of the University of Wisconsin Colleges, long-distance recreational runner, and avid world traveler.