Biri
Would  never have worn toe shoes.
She'd have danced barefoot, like Isadora Duncan
Wild like Esmeralda.

Fierce and sweet and brave. No fear.
Her fierce Biri heart
Knew intensity
And disdain.

She was proud. She was all business.
Those scanner eyes, always on the horizon.
"No use living without passion," she said.
She was good to her word.

Yeah, Biri wasn't a kewpie-doll, or just anybody's pal.
Biri was fierce: she had no time for fools, and she didn't hesitate to say so.
But when she loved, she loved with her whole heart---
And she said so.  Most dogs ask for "pets"---but Biri petted you.

Fearsome Bir-some. Cyberbiri. Easter-Biri hell-bent after the Easter bunny
Giving it her all.
Then, after the accident, there were orthopedists---they wanted to do orthopedics.
They stressed a pain-free life.

But she'd never be able to do "that double-suspension thing" again.
She'd be able to get up;
To get down;
To move around.

But she'd be clumsy. She'd be slow.
They'd never done a dog who was an athlete--
They'd done salvage;
Dogs so dysplastic that to walk was a triumph.

They talked about how their adrenelin rose
Whenever they were putting in a hip,
Because they were pushing the limits.
Biri knew about pushing limits.

When Biri saw her first rabbit her life changed.
She jumped up on me in an ecstasy of understanding.
"I know what I'm for now!
I know what I'm for!", she sang.

Biri
Was born to fly.
Had been flying all her brief life.
She would never stop; hold back; protect herself.

Biri was fierce;
World class; Olympic
every bit as much as the downhill skier,
the high-wire acrobat.

She would never
Live within the limits
Of  repair;
Of salvage.

If she had not pushed limits, she would not have had the kind of injury she did.
Shattering her own bones with the force of an automobile
Where there was no automobile; only Biri
Running with all her heart.

That day,
We came home early, and her joy
Expanding,
Her fierce Biri heart in ecstasy,

She loved so hard that she ran so fast, a millimeter mistake was all it took.
A  fraction of an inch off-kilter,
And her bones were colliding with the corner
Of a so-solid building.

In love with us
With her life
With her own speed:
She died from loving so hard and running so fast.

She was always good to her word.
Silent Running: truely
Silent
Now.

Silent Running
Jan. 6, 1996---Feb. 4, 1998
By  Rey McGehee

Biri said, "Life is short, run hard"; and she did.

The mourning was cold and grey both outside and in.
Fog?
A heavy dew on the trees
no wait; tears?
The trees weep for Biri and so do we
They miss her flashing by under their limbs, and so do we
They miss her silent grace as she rested in their shade, and so do we
No trees in the desert
They could not see the joy in her eyes as she ran after the jacks, but we could
They could not see her leaping in the air after her first course as she said I know
what I'm for, I know what I'm for, but we could
No, the trees could not see the greatest joy in her life but we could.
The trees saw her at the end and so did we
So brave and calm
The trees could see the fire in her eyes and so could we
the trees could see her drive and so could we
Yes the trees weep for Biri and so do we
Run silent Run hard Biri
Now truly silent running
weep