She Had His Six

SHE HAD HIS SIX
by Katherine Stickroth©
“She’s yours, not mine”
He was gruff to say
Of the pup squirming in my arms
But she won him over
With soft brown eyes
Her honesty was her charm

A cellophane pop
The grab of his cap
It was time to have a smoke
She stood at the door
To the sacred porch
Then she gave his leg a poke
How often I gazed
Through the curtained glass
At the two who were now a pair
Not a word was said
Not a move was made
But I saw the thousand yard stare

Without a sound
He told her of
The Hueys that swarmed like bees
The tracers of light
The ear-numbing booms
The blood, the cries and the screams
“We didn’t have friends.
Just ‘Buddy’ would do”
He told his little girl
She wiggled her tail
And nudged his hand
His fingers would then unfurl

By then I ran
To the kitchen sink
Pretending I didn’t know
She was on his six
In the places where
His wife was forbidden to go
 And now he lies
On a hospice bed
Agent Orange counts the rise of his chest
She nuzzles his hand
On top of her head
Too soon is his final breath
​
She had his six
Like no one did
He was safe with her along
His little girl dog
Her mission complete
She trailed him all the way home.