A FB pal (Susan T-C) from Albuquerque of all places linked to this this morning...
Ten Things Your Pet Needs You To KnowI have posted the following poem a couple of times when memorializing one of mine, and I cannot read it dry-eyed:
Friday, July 31, 2009 at 12:45pm
"My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.
Give me time to understand what you want from me.
Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.
Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.
Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.
Be aware that, however you treat me, I will never forget it.
Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not too.
Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.
PLEASE take care of me when I grow old. You too will grow old...
On the ultimate difficult journey, please be with me. Never say you cant bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.
Life would be a much duller, less joyful experience without God's critters.
We do not have to wait for Heaven to be surrounded by hope, love, and joyfulness it is here on earth and has four legs!
The House Dog's Grave (for Haig, an English Bulldog)The photo above is of my darlin', dearly departed Dixie-belle, who crossed over almost exactly a year ago. She was a goooooood grrrrl........
by Robinson Jeffers
I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you,
If you dream a moment,
You see me there.
So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.
I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no,
All the nights through I lie alone.
But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read‚
And I fear often grieving for me‚
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.
You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dears, that's too much hope:
You are not so well cared for as I have been.
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided...
But to me you were true.
You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.