Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Dog Death Poems | Death Poems About Dog

These Dog Death poems are examples of Death poems about Dog. These are the best examples of Dog Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

12345
Details | Couplet |

On The Moon

Thea, grandfather Alferd's dog died, she was so old and sick
Now is Thea on the moon, says Adrian who is six

Michael Jackson died so unexpectedly and abruptly
He is on the moon and plays with Thea, says Adrian who is a big fan

Betzy, grandfather Arild's dog died, she was also old and sick
Now Betzy is also on the moon with Thea and Michael Jackson and play all day

Great Grandmother died so unexpectedly and abruptly
Adrian who is six had difficulty understanding

Adrian who is six cried many tears for Great Grandmother
but comforted himself with the fact that she is sitting on the moon and
makes waffles to Thea, Michael Jackson and Betzy.




04.11.2012
A-L Andresen :)  - A true story -


Details | Free verse |

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,

I, a Red Skin dog, as some may delight to call me,
I have heard the tales of horror, from my dark skinned foes.
I have heard the tales of terror, from others who became my friends.
And I have walked with a dark skinned woman of their tribe.
We walked in the beauty of her courage, together. Tearless. 
Tearless we both were as she spoke, for tears, only gods could cry for her.
I am a Red Skin dog.
And yet we walked together and we talked – together, fearless,
I and this swaying ebony sapling, sprung from the roots of my foes tribe.
We talked of the pitiless reality of that life she left behind, of that time
That she has left, far, far behind, like a useless scar
That has toughened over. And made her stronger. 
I learned from this daughter of my foes
That true courage is never fearless, but always stronger. Victorious,
Stronger she was by far, to this Red Skin dog
Than the thousand sons who died, in her honor. So they say. Ridiculous,
But I have heard the balance of their sins.
And for all the tales I have heard from those angry young men, and their vengeful fathers
Her horror was a thousand times more sinister. A thousand times more callous.
Horror took up residence in her home but never in her heart.
But for others, I cannot speak.
“…splinters and bursting fragments…in my mind
Ai! Tearing! Memory of tearing flesh, swallowing tears and mucus, blood and bile
…bruising and ripping garments…off my body
…filthy, familiar hands tearing at my dress…
…my legs split and broken like a wild pig slaughter, my screams smashed from my lips,
With the butt of a rifle, just used to kill a Red Skin dog…
Aieee! Clean this floor mama, mop up this spew!
It cannot be mine!
This child is not mine!
It is not mine! It is the devils own creation born in hell fire!
Born in my death! 	
Aieee! I am dead, I cannot be alive. 
I am dead and the Red Skin dogs have eaten my corpse.
Those spirits in their wingless chariot flew over the land and sea, to rescue me?
Rescue me from that black devil who said he was like Jesus to me.
I thought you were my uncle-brother…
Who else could have found us here?
Hidden away from the Red Skins and their Wingless Angels.
Only you my uncle-brother
Only you could have found us
Only you could have killed us.
And now the progeny of your evil deed suckles at my breasts
As I lie dead in the home of those Red Skin dogs you fought.”


Details | Free verse |

My Dog Lady


My dog is full of life and glee
But gentle and kind as should be.
She sits beside me day and night.
I have no fear that she will bite.
When troubles come we see them thru.
We live in a house of silvery white and golden hue.

And then she died.
Oh such a day.
The sorrows were heavy.
The tears they ran.
I am now alone in our golden span.
Remember her well.
Forget her not.
To honor her memory I chose this spot.
Remember her well.
Forget her not.
The joy she gave.
The love she got.


This was the 1st poem I wrote for school at 11 years old. My 1st dog
and constant companion had just died.
Now 50 years ago. By Carol Eastman
Contest: Small poem II: Motif: Epic


Details | Rhyme |

?? PUPPY ??

     My Puppy

Day one: Haiku :::always together // here puppy where are you boy // see her all alone

Always together.                                                                   
What went wrong?                                                               
Fighting for the pillow made of a feather.                                
What went wrong?
Cuddled under cold weather.                                              
What went wrong?
Biting on one another                                                                
You two always belong.                                                              
Playing with your brother.                                       
Barking to any song.
Running around your dear mother.
She also felt something is wrong.

Day two: Haiku :::over his body // sad to see you went away // blood on car fender.

Today I see my pup alone.
Where can you be?
I can sadly hear her moan .
Where can you be?
Not stepping out of her zone.
Where can you be?
Missing you, my puppy began to roam.
My pup can finally see.
You have left her alone.
Letting out a howl, she is calling me.
I ran out of my home .
To see my pup cry a tune so sadly.
A pair, you left her alone.
For her I feel so badly.
Now she has no one to take her bone.
A bowl you to always share .
A love for eachother so rare.
Both came with brown coat medium shaggy hair
I never knew a dog can deeply care.
Who said life for a dog is fair?
Sad for me to know my pup knew she lost her pair.

Day three: Haiku :::Digging up a hole // my puppy smelled terrible  // rest in peace, dad dig.

by: P.D.
((I added the 3 day haiku, my pup was missing ))


Details | Elegy |

Saver On His Final Rest


His body cringed and whined in a terrible anguish, Counted gasps of last breaths foreboding his hopeless waiting, His master whom he longed to see before his soul will finally be freed, Will no longer return and their memories in her mind may even fade. It was his second time that he had been caught by stranger’s fatal decoy, The crux of the matter was her absence, so who could save him once more? Happy were the days when he was with her…given foods, bones and toy, On his first food poisoning, he was revived by her - such a great joy! His halcyon days since puppyhood were wistful things to remember, So naughty he was… poop here- pee there but he was patiently cleaned by her; He closed his eyes on his baths to feel his body scrub and nail brushing, So tidy, yet he must stay off the house while she was in the office, working. He had encountered accidents many times as he roamed around, By his dog’s name, he was so resilient in his master’s care and love; To give back all the pet’s love and compassion, he closely guarded her, Going out at night, he didn’t care the many dogs that barked to hinder. He was a real smart dog, looked like a trained one by his master, He sent her to the bus station, then went back to fetch her after work; When time came that his master has to leave and work abroad, She was forced to leave him and he was entrusted to their landlord. Who could save him from danger and death for the second time? As his breaths slowly drenched, his hope crumbled in a quarter dime; No one could really replace the sympathy and care of a real master, No one could no longer save the life of a very dear smart dog, Saver. Giving a last kind gaze to his pseudomaster seated beside him, As if begging, “ Convey to my real master that I’ll forever be her loyal friend,” After lifting his right foreleg, he slowly laid it down back to the ground, Finally, on to his eternal rest from all sleepless nights in guarding his house.
November 19, 2013 10.15. pm ©2013by Leonora Galinta


Details | Ode |

Ode to Humphrey

The"tail" I have to tell, starts off really sad.
My sweet doggie Murphy died and my heart, it hurt so bad.
Until one day in early spring, I got a call that made my heart sing!
There were some puppies born in Waco, the daddy -Jasper, and mommy- Juneau.
Four little boys, three little girls. But the picture of one boy, made my heart twirl!
So I waited for a week or two, to meet my little puppy-oh so new!
I named him Humphrey, such a handsome boy! He has brought  laughter back and oh what a joy! He's super cute, and very smart. Many would say, he's a work of art!
He's learning new tricks, and how to potty outside. So many rules to learn and abide!
Humphrey is growing so quickly, the puppy breath will soon disappear. He will be an adult in less than a year! Every stage of his life is a blessing from above. I guess that's the true meaning of what we call "puppy love".



Details | Free verse |

The deer hunter


On a cold winter’s morning
in the Wicklow mountains
a lone man stalks the land;
his hound shadows him. 

He moves silently, swiftly,
approaching a clearing
where the pine forest gives way 
to heather-covered hills. 

Alert to movement,
he steps carefully into position.
His dog stands stock still, waiting;
its nose quivers
in the icy air.

He slips the rifle from his shoulder
moving to a tree
bare of branches. 
Carefully he pulls the trigger, 
the dog darts forward.

Dragging the carcass of a Sika
he walks through a forest
stripped of bark.
Trunks ooze with infection;
the reason for the cull.

He hears gunfire ahead. 
‘Could be poachers.’
He investigates.
Poachers are the true vermin
in this environment.

They kill for money,
no respect for the species.
Stags beheaded, bodies remain,
inexperienced hunters, 
the wounded animals suffer.

An animal lover,
he lives a solitary life 
at his isolated cottage.
Keeper of the deer
deep within the mountains.




Details | Rhyme |

Man's Best Friend

They bark, they whine, they growl, they howl,
different in nature with a wonderful soul.
Very much a man's best friend, 
the best they could be even with unlike gene-strand.

They bark, they whine, they growl, they howl,
proudly guarding the owner even when the weather is cold.
Resting under their feet and more like perfectly shielded,
eagerly and patiently waiting to get rewarded.

They bark, they whine, they growl, they howl,
greatly appreciating the simple food given in a bowl.
A man's best friend in every kind of way,
till the last breath they could stay.

They bark, they whine, they growl, they howl...


-kumaran santhana-


Details | Elegy |

Elegy for a Duchess

Who would believe your slim elegant body would win my affection, 
when you gracelessly step on toes? Your soft doe skin of cream 

spotted brown, floppy ears I threaten to turn into gloves as a joke.
Through many chain jangle calls for walks where you race and lunge 

and bark fighting for the right to be with me, how could I turn you away?
When you almost die I am ready to give you away to death, hating the sick 

green puke, you become skinnier despite the surgery until finally
one simple shot brings you back to us alive, slurping our hands and faces. 

Busy days of science and humanities and government tucked up in a chair, 
I forgot you, but you begged let me even eat your apple. let me sit in your lap 

but you’re so big now you don’t fit and don't like apple. Chocolate chips cookies, though, a whole batch scarfed from the table and then you wiggle and wag tail,

snarl, your teeth clenched when I offer just one more. We all know who is guilty,
not you, your innocence, your steadfast defense, says it is our family who has forgot. 

Finally, it is too late. You hurt too bad, spine enflamed, barely able to walk
or eat. Tomorrow your last day. I pick up the chain, you race happy to join me

down the row of maples losing their last autumn leaves, where my brother and I lead  you plodding like an old man, stopping to breathe, and I see stars in my eyes, 

saying goodbye. Goodbye to the lady of our family, the Dalmatian Duchess 
who loved us best, walked beside us through our childhood days like a guardian.

11-16-2013


Details | Narrative |

Noises in the Night

One cold night, deep in thought, and curled in fright,
From folklore tales aimed to scare;
My rigid poise froze to a screeching noise
Outside, a voice not like I've heard before, to leave I would not dare
“It’s probably just an owl or creature of the night out there"
I muttered to myself, then pretended not to care

Oh, I recall quite vividly this icy Winter’s night
With grainy sight, the sandman came to lead me to his land
The weariness I fought but eventually he caught
Pulling me quite taut to somewhere far less bland   
Where I became the leader of a marvellous brass band
And down that path sandman tightly gripped me by my hand

Trumpeters and trombone players played musically in layers
Exciting each and everyone, spreading joy to all around
But my dreams were playing tricks, my mind was in a mix
The bass tuba sounded sick, not playing tuneful sounds
Instead a grating shrill, then the whining of a hound
The lightning and the rain came too, my dream then ran aground           

Alone I grew more frightened and the intensity just heightened
The shrieks and shrills grew louder with an occasional thunder clap
Taking sanctuary under bed sheets, preying for melodic sound beats   
Suffering this painful feat, my soul took a massive slap
Oh how I longed for it to stop and to return me to my nap
The bleakness of that night, my mind caught in a trap

Morning later broke, the ground outside was soaked
The noise had faded but there was still a haunting in my ears
A crunch, a grind, a squeak a whine
The cause I vowed to find, and to take away my fears
From the upstairs window I saw a farmer crouched in tears
And a windmill's broken sails; the mystery closure neared

Across the muddy field, I approached the man kneeled
Sobbing over what appeared to be a dead Alsatian
He'd found it just lying there, the hound, his best friend 
Downed by a falling windmill piece, killing gods creation
"A slow death" the farmer said "he must have cried out for attention"
"And my mill cranks broken causing noises of a nauseating sensation"



12345