Don't Go

Separation anxiety is a relatively common dog issue.  Merwin went through a tough bout of it over the summer when we were both working 9-5 jobs.  He wasn't used to being left alone for such a long period of time.  Despite some amazing friends who helped with afternoon dog walks, we had some scary incidents-- overturned furniture, scratches and holes in walls where he tried to climb out windows, curtains ripped from their rods, bloody paws from attempting to claw his way from his crate, etc.  After a few weeks, he seemed to finally settle into a routine, and we slowly learned that Merwin had a preferred daytime hideout.

I don't doubt his pain; surely separation is a challenge, even for those of us with the capacity to realize that, in many cases, it may not last forever.

This poem is not written by Merwin, but strangely enough, I became aware of Pablo Neruda's work after finding that Merwin did the translation for the collection 100 Love Poems and a Song of Despair. 

Don't Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day
Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because--
because--I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?