We thought her shy malaise was a shot reaction.
The autopsy disclosed a rupture in her liver.
As we teased her with play, blood was filling her skin
And her heart was learning to lie down forever.
Monday morning, as the children were noisily fed
And sent to school, she crawled beneath the youngest's bed.
We found her twisted and limp but still alive.
In the car to the vet's, on my lap, she tried
To bite my hand and died. I stroked her warm fur
And my wife called in a voice imperious with tears.
Though surrounded by love that would have upheld her,
Nevertheless she sank and, stiffening, disappeared.
Back home, we found that in the night her frame,
Drawing near to dissolution, had endured the shame
Of diarrhoea and had dragged across the floor
To a newspaper carelessly left there.  Good dog.
While prose is the literary reflection of the mind, poetry is that which tells what lies deepest in the heart. There is no greater example of this than John Updike’s poem, “Dog’s Death”. 
 Here, in this passage, we see that commonality among humans of transposing otherwise human characteristics, including emotions, upon an animal. “…had endured the shame” gives us pause as we reflect upon that which a dog might actually be capable of feeling. 
 “…her frame drawing near to dissolution” also gives us a glimpse of stalwart purpose and a binding of spirit within the animal, despite its pain and suffering to drag itself onward, duty-bound, perhaps in one final gesture of loyalty and obedience. 
 In the end, our sensibilities are shaken and we find ourselves raw with emotion as we feel the pain of all involved, both pet and family…the very essence of poetry’s grand purpose.
Dogs Death