Jazzie Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Jazzie, our beautiful puppy of seven years, so good, so gentle with our little granddaughter.
Always wanting to kiss her, protect her, as if she was her own puppy.
A wonderful friendship based on mutual admiration, formed when our granddaughter was just a few months old.
Growing up with Jazzie was a heart-warming adventure for all of us as we looked on.
Caring, love - it was always reflected in Jazzie's crystal blue eyes whenever she saw our granddaughter, and was mirrored back to her tenfold.
Too young, she died of hemoyletic anemia, I tried to save her, my precious Jazzie, but to no avail.
Sobbing from my innermost being, I cried my heart out for her, the sorrow pulled out my spirit.
I watched as my granddaughter held her paw, and listened as she cried,
'Jazzie is my puppy, Grandma, me no say good-bye, I love you Jazzie girl, no more kisses', tears pouring from her eyes.
Death touching our granddaughter's edges - she's only two - sorrow has crept upon her much too soon in life.