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Your poems, even in brevity,: Your poems, even in brevity, are always highly observant.

Resounding gratitude! Your: Resounding gratitude! Your comment is worth a volume of words. Thank you! 

Thank you for that, and for: Thank you for that, and for the mention of Monica.  When she was euthanized, I received the news at work from my retired parents with whom Monica still lived.  My emotions went into a shock, and I was like a zombie.  A couple of weeks later, while out for a walk with my then spoiuse, I burst into tears, uncontrollable tears.  My parents were so broken up by it that they eventually purchased another Cocker pup, who outlived my dad, yet passed away from cancer just prior to my mom.  The dog's ashes were placed into my mother's casket before the lid was closed and locked.  When Zoey's time comes, her ashes will be placed with whichever of us is the last survivor. I thank you, also, for your compliment about the cosmic aspect of our pets' love. Forgive me for closing with one more story about Monica.  In spring, 1983, I had been promoted to Senior Assistant Manager of my branch of the financial corporation that, then, employed me.  I was a little arrogant about my new position.  Then I was notified, by the vet that had known me all my life, that Monica had developed a tumor, biopsied as cancer, in her stomach.  It could be felt by palpatation, but did not seem to cause her any pain.  Her appetite and "athletic" ability when bouncing about my parents' backyard were not affected.  The vet suggested euthanasia.  I pointed out to him that the absence of pain, no loss of appetite, and no loss of energy seemed to me to be reasons to avoid that decision for the time being.  He said she would not last six months, and she would either feel huge pain, or begin to waste away.  I told him, then when these symptoms present, we can proceed to the next step.  That was in June of 1983.  Monica lived until May, of 1986, with no loss of appetite, and only a slight slow-down (after all, she had turned fourteen in January 1986).  On the fateful morning, she tried to stretch out on the patio, on her stomach, and let out a yelp of pain.  My father knew that the time had come.  Monica was buried in a common grave in a pet cemetery, but its management sent me a written statement that her remains had been covered in a blanket and gently placed in the grave, not tossed in, and the grave was then closed.  The vet would have taken her last three years away, had I not objected.  But in the face of all that she had given me, through those fourteen years of her life, what I gave her in 1983 was but a small fraction.  I have never stopped loving her.  I believe that she, and Zoey, will be together in Heaven; and that, when my time comes, I will meet them there as if we had never parted.

I defer to Patricia's far: I defer to Patricia's far more insightful understanding of the purpose of the poem.

I wanted to leave at least: I wanted to leave at least one comment on your page. I read all your works, and feel to comment on them all would be redundant, as they are all pieces of art, and stand on their own merit. I thank you for sharing your talent with those of us at PostPoems.

First, I want to express my: First, I want to express my concern about your close call that, thank God, was resolved before you had to go to the ER. If it happens again, you'll know what to do, so I'm sure everything will be OK. My prayers for your peace of mind.   Wow! You wholeheartedly captured my intentions in this deep, generous and intricate review. I can't describe the immense pleasure of your deconstructions that provide confirmation as well as encouragement.   It's also deeply gratifying that my work brought back precious memories of your own canine BFF. The way you described Monica was so precious and heart-melting. Really had me choked up. Thank you for introducing me to those beautiful, beautiful souls that touched your life and still bring you joy today.    I also wanted to cry when I read your own definition of our fur babies' collective mission in life :   "Massive, distant stars fuse hydrogen into light and warmth, but to us, and to our pets, is given the privilege and responsibility to love; and, thus loving, to bring the Cosmos a little nearer to its ultimate destiny."   That's epic, my friend. And so is the value of your steadfast support. God bless you.  

I apologize for being tardy: I apologize for being tardy with my comment, as I only just now saw this posting (I cannot, at the moment, keep up well with my reading at postpoems).  This is an effective, and highly poignant, meditation on human beings' interpretation of time---which, when we come right down to it, is based upon planetary, solar, and stellar movements and appearances.  The values (positive or negative) that we assigned to time's functions are strictly our own.  I like your perspective on the afterlife; and I find great comfort that, in the afterlife (as some believe it to be) chronos will become kairos, and our perspective will move from idios cosmos to kairos cosmos.