Dog Benedictions
THE POWER OF A DOG
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of the sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a puppy and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie-
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.
When in the fourteen years which nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumor, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find-it's your own affair,
But...you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still),
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone-wherever it goes- for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear!
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve:
For when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long.
So why in Heaven (before we are there!)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Rudyard Kipling, 1865-1936
MONUMENT TO A DOG
When some proud son of man returns to
earth, Unknown to glory, but upheld by
birth, The sculptor's art exhausts the
pomp of woe, And storied urns record who
rests below. When all is done, upon the
tomb is seen, Not what he was, but what
he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest
friend, The first to welcome, foremost
to defend, Whose honest heart is still
his master's own, Who labors, fights,
lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth
-- While man, vain insect! hopes to be
forgiven, And claims himself a sole
exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt
by power--
Who knows thee well must quit thee with
disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all
a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy
words deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush
for shame. Ye, who perchance behold this
simple urn, Pass on--it honors none you
wish to mourn. To mark a friend's remains
these stones arise;
I never knew but one--and here he lies.
~Lord Byron
Inscription on the monument of his Newfoundland dog, 1808
A LOAN FROM GOD
God promised at the birth of time, a special friend to give, his time on
earth is short, he said, so love him while he lives.
It may be six or seven years, or twelve or then sixteen, but will you, till
I call him back, take care of him for me?
A wagging tail and cold wet nose, and silken velvet ears, a heart as big
as all outdoors, to love you through the years. His puppy ways will gladden
you, and antics bring a smile, as guardian or friend he will, be loyal all
the while.
He'll bring his charms to grace your life, and though his stay
be brief, when he's gone the memories, are solace for your
grief.
I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return, but lessons only
a dog can teach, I want you each to learn.
Whatever love you give to him, returns in triple measure, follow his lead
and gain a life, brim full of simple pleasure.
Enjoy each day as it comes, allow your heart to guide, be loyal and steadfast
in love, as the dog there by your side. Now will you give him all your love,
nor think the labor vain, nor hate me when I come to call, to take him back
again? I fancy each of us would say, "Dear Lord, thy will be done, for all
the joy this day shall bring, the risk of
grief we'll run." "We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll love him while
we may, and for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay."
"But shall the angels call for him, much sooner than we've planned, we'll
brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand."
Author Unknown
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 Lampman
from the Portland Oregonian Sept. 11, 1925
MEMORIES
"Not the least hard thing to bear when
they go from us, these quiet friends,
is that they carry away with them so
many years of our lives. Yet, if they
find warmth therein, who would
begrudge them those years that they
have so guarded?
And whatever they take,
be sure they have deserved."
~John Galsworthy
FOUR FEET
I have done mostly what men do,
And pushed it out of my mind;
But I can't forget, if I wanted to,
Four-Feet trotting behind.
Day after day, the whole day through--
Wherever my road inclined--
Four-Feet said, 'I am coming with you!'
And trotted along behind.
Now I must go by some other round--
Which I shall never find--
Some where that does not carry the sound
Of Four-Feet trotting behind.
~Rudyard Kipling
EPITAPH TO A DOG
Near this spot Are deposited the Remains
Of one Who Possessed Beauty
Without Vanity,Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
And all the Virtues of Man
Without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning
flattery If inscribed over Human Ashes,
Is but a just tribute to the
Memory of "Boatswain," a Dog
Who was born at Newfoundland,
May, 1803,
And died at Newstead Abbey
Nov. 18, 1808.
~Lord Byron
SEPARATE LIFETIMES
We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the neccesary plan....
~Irving Townsend
"The Once Again Prince"
DON'T CRY FOR ME WHEN I'M GONE
Three score and ten are given to man,
But ours is a much briefer span.
So, though I give you all my heart,
The time will come when we must part.
But all around you, you will see,
Creatures that speak to you of me;
A tired horse, a hunted thing,
A sparrow with a broken wing ...
Pity - and help (I know you will)
And somehow, I will be with you still;
And I shall know, although I'm gone,
The love I gave you lingers on.
Author unknown
OLD DOGS NEVER DIE
We have a secret, you and I,
That no one else shall know,
For who, but I can see you lie,
Each night, in fireglow?
And who but I can reach my hand
Before we go to bed,
And feel the living warmth of you
And touch your silken head?
And only I walk woodland paths,
And see, ahead of me,
Your small form racing wit the wind,
So young again, and free.
And only I can see you swim
In every brook I pass.
And, when I call, no one but I
Can see the bending grass.
Author Unknown
Thanks to Leslie for sending me these Dog Benedictions.
