(Click below to link to page)
(Click below to link to page)
| THE BEST PLACE TO BURY A DOG There is one best place to bury a dog. If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call - come to you over the grim, dim frontier of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel, they shall not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he belongs there. People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing. The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master. Ben Hur Lampam Portland Oregonian Sept. 11, 1925 |
ROOM IN YOUR HEART
Sorrow fills a barren space; you close your eyes and see my face and think of times I made you laugh, the love we shared, the bond we had, the special way I needed you - the friendship shared by just we two. The day's too quiet, the world seems older, the wind blows now a little colder. You gaze into the empty air and look for me, but I'm not there - I'm in heaven and I watch you, and I see the world around you too. I see little souls wearing fur, souls who bark and souls who purr born unwanted and unloved - I see all this and more above - I watch them suffer, I see them cry, I see them lost, I watch them die. I see unwanted thousands born - and when they die, nobody mourns. These little souls wearing fur (Some who bark and some who purr) are castaways who - unlike me - will never know love or security. A few short months they starve and roam, Or caged in shelters - nobody takes home. They're special too (furballs of pleasure), filled with love and each one, a treasure. My pain and suffering came to an end, so don't cry for me, my person, my friend. But think of the living - those souls with fur (some who bark and some who purr) - And though our bond can't be broken apart, make room for another in your home and your heart. Caro Schubert-James | THE RESCUE DOG I took a little dog home that day, He was ugly and bad, it's true. Only I could see his true beauty shining through. I put him down at my front door, So he could walk inside. And when I opened up for him, He just stood there eyes open wide. A big soft bed was there for him, A fluffy blanket blue. A heap of toys were nearby, All bright and shiny and new. All this for me he seemed to say, His little eyes they shone. No more need to bite, cower or cringe, All fear and anger gone. He paid me back a thousand times. My furry faithful friend, A better friend I never had, right up until the end. We walked a long and rocky road. Through trouble, grief and strife. And in the dark and stormy days, He gave meaning to my life. I thought my heart would break, When the time came for him to go. I buried him in his blanket blue, Beneath the cold white snow. Sometimes I still hear his little bark, Feel the touch of a velvet paw. I still stoop down to greet him, When I open my front door. A special tribute to Punky Susan van Nieker |
>> last modified January 24th, 2003 <<