Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”
Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”
One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…
Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.
Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”
Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.
Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed.
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.
Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.
Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray,
“Lord, let this day be my last.”
For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Pal quietly passed away.
Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…you’re the best friend in my life.”
Bob talked to Pal, caressed him until he fell asleep;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob finally joined his wife.
The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….
Stood an old dog beside the stone,
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place.
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.
She smiled. “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too. His name was Pal.”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
The flush of spring has bought new life to romp in greening feed,
along the border with the forest where domestic flocks do breed.
Managed through the daylight by the fear of being seen,
the sentinels of death await for night when they are keen.
Though distant lights may glow as beacons for the lost,
guerrilla’s stream out silently in pack form to accost,
and satisfy their lust for blood without no grace or fear,
frustrating yet the hand of man. By dawn they disappear.
Far reaching eyes in anger lies where wilderness is dense,
I know my soul is being watched beyond the border fence,
locked into disappointment where flies gather at my feet;
There’s blood-stained wool on rotting flesh, with no thought to eat.
Immediate is my judgment for no trial is needed here,
I am the executor of the guilty, who dare to wander near.
Survival is the wisdom tho’ for the wily streetwise cur,
the frenzy’s not in pattern! It’s too late for where they were.
The night is cold and lonely with the urge for needed sleep,
but as the shepherd of my flock I must protect my sheep.
A pack will form again when blood is dry and lost its scent;
Until the last sheep drops their guard, no dog shall here repent.
The lead appeared Alsatian bounding surprised in its flight,
for its escape back to the bush in my sudden cheating light.
The echo of my three-o-three thundered through the hills,
with-in the change of retrospect. ‘Tis I who wants the kills.
Death took a holiday tonight where death was meant to be,
my shot was high or wide or low, ‘twas more shadow I could see.
Silence returned and in my light that scanned the field and scrub,
I knew that I was being watched, beyond a woodland shrub.
Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2015
On this dreary winter morning I sit on a bench in Central Park. Lost in my own
thoughts of the conversation I had with my ex-wife and her last remarks. I keep asking
myself is it my fault? What did I do wrong? The chilly wind fills my ears with it's endless
song. I shiver slightly and goose bumps crawl along the back of my neck. Her words have
left me an emotional wreck. I pull my leather jacket tighter around my shoulders. I feel it in
my bones this day will get colder.
I've seen several joggers getting in their morning run. That just shows people will
continue their lives never mind the rays of the sun. So many thoughts running through my
head. And I hold the morning newspaper I still haven't read. I contemplate over my life, it's
not always easy, and so-called-friends can be the enemy. Even your spouse living in your
house can betray you with infidelity. That is why my heart is aching like a cavity. Right now
I'm doing my best to hang on to my sanity, but I really want to shout profanity.
I notice an attractive couple hand-n-hand laughing and enjoying a morning stroll; and
for some reason I can't control, I feel a sense of peace glow within my soul. My insecurities
diminish from their dark hellhole. I begin to feel "whole," and suddenly this morning doesn't
seem so cold.
I get up from the bench shaking off the numbness that has set in. A very pretty woman
walks by with her dog and I grin. She notices and smiles back. Wow! A kinda smile that is
only meant for kodak! I watch her walk past me with her dog leading the way. Something
tells me "you better not let this one get away." As I'm listening to my inner voice, she
glances back over her shoulder, and I knew that she too was giving me a choice. Amazing
how just several minutes ago my entire world seemed so dark. I now knew everything was
going to be okay because of this bench in Central Park......
* 10th Place win in "Anything Goes" Contest
sponsored by A Rambling Poet
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009
Is it stress,
or loss, despair and survival
we must discuss.
Stress is just the symptom
of a universe intent to destroy the individual
before it births new life. It sends the dogs
after us, after the holocaust, in the tattered ruins
of our city.
There is this despair and expectation
of destruction, but somewhere there is still also
simple sky blue,
flowers among railroad ties,
true love between sexual partners.
Is it sex,
or love, companionship and reliableness
we must expect.
Sex, nothing but laying my head
at your cunt, can interest me sometimes. Your legs
lead to a pleasure that seems infinite and smells
So there is this tenderness, a connection
like a suction to the biological that is ephemeral
as snow on the ground,
one elk in aspen,
death and nothing less.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Today is the day!
I give my dog away!
I wonder if he's sick or if he's too lazy to play and do tricks.
I called the vet, “$80 I cannot pay.”
My dog, my favorite pet,
He does not want to chase the cat.
I understand that he does not like to get wet.
But, how come today, he doesn't want to play fetch.
I tell him to roll over.
That he doesn't even want to do :- (
When I call my dog Rover,
He gives me the puppy face too.
Maybe he's over fed.
All he does is lay there in bed.
He’s not even wagging his tail!
My dog, my favorite pet,
He didn’t walk with me to get the mail.
Should I call the Dog Catcher?
And ask why my dog is playing dead?
by;pd & son
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
silence when i open the door
silence when i close it again
no one to make a noisy fuss
no one to welcome me in
no one barks at the mailman
no one brings the little ball
no one chomps the squeaky toy
but love still comes to memories call
Copyright © Luann Pfost | Year Posted 2014
It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
his untimely end.
He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends. I do care.”
Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.
So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?
We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.
Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.
He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.
“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.
And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…
There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight
to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.
“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy. You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats. It’s up to you”.
As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred. I almost cried.
On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.
But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.
But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.
For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea,
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me. Please, take me”.
“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.
In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.
Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2013
Oh, yes indeed, you thought you had lost him.
All was well, you thought you're on easy street.
Your pathway was strewn with flowers and then
nothing to look forward to but to greet
grandchildren at the door, parcel out love,
forbearance accumulated in a
lifetime. Live life orderly and above
the board you built from illusions just a
little and dreams just a lot. One dark night
you awoke. That dark canine of chaos
and despair was back, sniffing, scratching right
there at your front door, the side of your house,
indomitable and stupid and near,
drawn like a dog to the heat of your fear.
Copyright © ahellas Alixopulos | Year Posted 2008
What could I say that you don't already know
One last word to share with you before you have to go
After 9 years of being loved and loving everyday
Was there really anything at all that we have left to say
I loved you every second, every moment since we met
You had the strongest sweetest soul I've come to know here yet
I think my greatest comfort since we met until you passed
Is I know I spent my time with you as if it were my last
It really didn't shock me that you didn't stay so long
The angel wings you flew in on have always fluttered strong
It's funny when I think of all the things I did, and see
If I was here to care for you or you to care for me?
And so it's time to say farewell I'll do the best I can
Until we're reunited my soft, sweet, bossy little man!
Copyright © SCOTT HARRIS | Year Posted 2014
Where did the dogness(soul) go?
Nowhere subtract one dog
Bad dreams whimpering
Restless sleep~"Rocky, wake up."
Asleep rest in peace
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
“A Man’s best friend is his dog”
The phrase receives little refute
Anecdotal history alone settles any dispute
but he’s just a dog all he needs to be is cute
Trustworthy loyal and dyeing to please
in return asking only to sniff around the trees
checking if other dogs crossed their i’s or dotted their t’s
You bring him home because he is oh so adorable
Now that you’ve stepped in it it’s oh so horrable
making matters worse your mutt is now incorrigible
your dog will figure out how to pass the time away
waiting for you to come home even if it takes all day
you’ve had to toss the things he’s trashed away
You know all he wants to do is play
you break out the treats and teach him to sit and to stay
but this is not why he waited for for you all day -but OK
walking and fetching may be good clean fun
but long legged dogs really love a good run
understanding dogs is not as easy as it seems
dogs like people take some things to extremes
We soon discover our dogs are a lot like us
so get to know him well and don’t make such a fuss
In Memory of our beloved Samson
see related poem: Tale of the Dog That Licked Me
Copyright © Monty Newman | Year Posted 2010
On the other side of tomorrow,
In a land that's yet to be.
Lies a lovely woodland meadow,
With all creatures running free.
It's here we'll find the pets we've lost,
To fate and all fate brings.
Illness, age, misfortune:
Such sad and loathsome things.
There's never painful memories
In this land beyond today.
They wait for us in happiness,
Not gone, but just away.
They look for us to come to them,
To know our voice once more.
To hear our footsteps on the path,
Our hand upon the door.
And all shall be at peace with them
And with us . . just as well;
In the land beyond tomorrow,
Pets we've loved, but lost, now dwell.
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
It's been over a month since I've seen your face,
I hope you're in a better place.
When I see your saddening grave,
You seem so helpless and tremendously brave.
I'd love to be with you again,
To see you playing around in your pin.
I keep wishing on the brightest star,
Because I know just where you are.
When I look to the skies,
They remind me of your beautiful eyes.
I think you should know, my world is torn,
It takes skills, trying not to mourn.
My heart is fractured; it cannot be repaired,
The feelings from my soul cannot be shared.
Your fur so black, with specks of whites,
Remind me of the darkest nights.
My mouth whispers words of love,
Like the angelic voice of a precious dove.
Your eyes shine so lovingly bright,
To create such a beautiful sight.
I hold your image close,
Like nature does a rose.
The tears I shed are jewels from my heart,
Without you I have no idea where to start.
Missing you is all I can bare to do,
Wandering around without a clue.
Looking back at all those times I spent, thinking of you,
My heart is lacking what is needed, it needs something true.
I look over those days, wishing I could change the past,
But knowing it all came way too fast.
I'd always wanted a dog of my own,
And you were the best dog I'd ever known.
I'm sorry for all the times I pushed you down,
Instead of picking you up, off the ground.
The way your eyes used to glow,
Let your true colors show.
The date is carved in my heart,
Written on every piece of art.
And I'll keep wishing on the brightest star,
Until I'm right where you are.
I will never forget your loving face,
I know you're in a better place.
Copyright © Hannah Stultz | Year Posted 2011
Old Jim Hasselgrove lived out by the river bank
where you'd see him sometimes cookin
viddles on a small wood stove
now Jim's best friend was a dog named Blue
cause no matter where Jim went Blue was sure to be there too
like soft butter spread on bread those two were meant to be
so it was that the years passed by
yet that dog Blue never left Old Jim's side
then one day somethin mighty awful happened
seems Old Jim had gone up and passed away
everyone in town thought Jim should've had a church grave
but loyal Blue stayed by old Jim's shack
which in the end is where they buried Old Jim
and where some swear the ghost of ole Blue still remains today
Copyright © Jeff Burris | Year Posted 2011
I wasn't there to say goodbye
I often contemplate the reasons why
You were very sick that day
I still went to a friends to stay
My phone buzzed with the final news
That you had gone there were no clues
A dog, my friend for 16 years
I shed that worth amount in tears
Dicken my dear you were my brother
You took care of me like a mother
If I could say something to you
It's that I'm sorry and love you too
I would not want to relive that day
But it's in my memory here to stay
Copyright © Alex Riker | Year Posted 2013
Life can bring many difficult situations!
Often, there’s really no explanation!
No matter how smart or how wise,
Things can take us totally by surprise!
We can often find our life off course.
Many times, being driven by a “dark force.”
I know that it’s hard to know what to do.
Especially with what you
may be going through!
I can’t think of all the right words to say…
To help you make it through another day!
But there’s someone, I can ask you to turn to!
He loves and is most concerned about you!
His name is Jesus! The almighty God is he!
He’s committed to you now! And for eternity!
He’s the one that you can trust and lean on!
And is someone that you can
certainly depend on!
Won’t you give him an opportunity to help you?
He reaches out his hand! Because he loves you!
He is the source with an eternal heavenly treasure!
He can completely fill you!
The decision is yours! A choice to be made!
There’s nothing for Jesus what’s worth the “trade!”
He’s everything that any of us can ever think of!
And can do more for you! Than you ever dreamed of!
He’s the alpha and omega! The beginning and the end!
Won’t you allow him to be your
savior and friend???
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012
Poor old Sammy warming his tired bones in the morning sun
the passing car excited him so he forgot his age and tried to run
I got his breakfast ready something easy to chew with an added treat
placing his bowl within easy reach in time he comes to his feet to eat
I stroke his head and I am moved to reflect on the passing of time
In dog years he is as old as dirt surely neither of us are in our prime
Yesterday he could run like a little quarter horse doing what a dog does best
Today he contents him self with short walks, gentle play and plenty of rest
When he barks in his sleep his paws are on the run
running and barking in his dream just having fun.
He’s a Weimaraner in love with a Great Dane her legs go all the way up
love is blind and he’s out of his league but that would be a beautiful pup
As he guards our home all nobel nosed wearing that doggy grin
I like to think his daydreams are of things that might have been
In Memory of our beloved Samson
see related poem: A Man’s best friend is his dog
Copyright © Monty Newman | Year Posted 2010
Dachshunds - Poetry Contest
My Doll, My Dachshund
An old abandoned house in the country, is where we saved our precious hound
Covered in mange, fleas, ticks and whatever deathly smell she had found
I called her name; from out of the yonder she came when she heard my yell
We could see she was excited to be rescued and the car ride went well
Once we arrived home, it was bath time, eating, then sleep
For hours she snuggled next to me without even a weep
She was red, small, a miniature seven year old baby of mine
We shared everything together and talked all the time
We would cuddle in blankets when weather was cold
No matter the circumstance, she and I fit the mold
One day she came to me, however not feeling right
I rushed her to the clinic and sat there all night
The doctor informed me that she could no longer walk
I sat there stunned, desperately crying, I couldn't talk
Our only option, as you can imagine, was true
I held her in my arms as she went into the sky blue
She is buried by the creek bed where she loved to play
There is not a moment that I don’t miss her every single day
Not knowing if I will ever feel the same way as I did then
Hoping that someday, her little nose will nudge me again
01-07-15 Dachshund poetry-soup contest
For sissy, you are missed my pet.
Copyright © Kristin Edwards | Year Posted 2015
From my first memories as a wide
The day when this gentle
man would come pick me up.
Though I did not know him I had no
I instantly nuzzled his neck and
nibbled his ear.
Then off for a ride to
my new happy home.
Then soon he would
to take in a rescue so I would never
He said that she was my sisi and called her Jamie
Giaco is what he chose to name me.
We had an amazing yard with squirrels to chase
In this my life I had surely found my place.
Toys and treats in endless supply
I'm one lucky dog to have found this guy.
There were times i drove him up the wall.
With my never ending, throw the ball, throw the ball.
But he didn't mind and made sure my every need was met.
I was more his son than I was ever his pet.
He made my life great from beginning to end.
I've heard people say I was "Man's Best friend"
If that's what they like to say, it's okay they can
But without a doubt, he was "My best man"
Copyright © John Berryhill | Year Posted 2013
Poem of Remembrance
Remembering Man’s Best Friend
“God’s Lesser Children”
Who says that all must vanish.
Surely wilted flower's scent, does yet remain within its seed.
As they stood guard,
Now, we too stand
To guard the memory of selfless acts
These lesser children, who knew us well.
Our gate and stride, our scent, our call,
Each gave their lot, no less than all.
To peer again beneath that gaze and feel the nearness of where he lays.
Such sacred moments, etched in stone,
Forever sacred and mine alone.
But now it dresses you again,
You whose life these lives did hold.
Clad in friendship, from breast to knee,
A life not long, but oh so pure, it's scent and song remains in you,
with timeless honor, and future sure.
Copyright © Randy Housh | Year Posted 2015
Whose voice is that i think i know
Her voice is soft like the soft winds blow.
She skips with glee as she grows near.
Her skin is pale, as white as snow.
My dog beside me, finds it queer
To see her now after a year
Between two trees down by the lake.
The time she died was just last year.
My dog beside me starts to shake
To see this trick is a mistake
The tears that fall as i start to weep
Of deepest sorrows, my heart it aches
The feeling of grief it cuts me deep
But she will stay in my heart to keep
And as i cried i fell asleep
And as i cried I fell asleep
Copyright © Ashleigh Johnson | Year Posted 2013
in cool, green grass
my little dog's at rest --
rain clouds remain
in shades of pink
the sunsets low --
I call her name
fragrant sweet pea
swaying in the spring breeze --
*for my little Sweet Pea, now chasing cats in Heaven (?1995 - March 13, 2012)
She always kept us on our toes. The house is too quiet without her.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
Walking down the road, hungry and cold,
The dog whimpered, not knowing she was old,
Nor did she know that the man she loved,
Was trying to send her to Heaven above.
The old dog had cancer and her head would ache,
She shivered and found it was hard to stay awake,
She lay down at last, still fighting the pain
And thought of the warm house as it started to rain.
The dog had been true and had loved the man
who knew his dog was worth more than His plans,
He turned and drove back to help his old friend,
And found her fighting the pain right up to the end.
He picked up his dog and stroked the gray head,
Then drove the dog home and placed her in bed,
Turned on soft music and gazed long at his pet,
Then with hot tears of sorrow, took her to the vet.
He held his friend tightly as the vet gave the last shot,
The dog licked her friend's hand as Her world became dark.
Copyright © Patricia Leonaitis | Year Posted 2007
Death of Bruce, My Friend
Bruce, my puppy died so very , very long ago
buried him in a grave deep beneath the snow
Vanished, the days of tramping wood and field
no more would such joy his countenance yield
Looking back seeing more sweet joy than sad
thank God and childhood for blessings we had
Remembering well the nights he slept in my bed
often climbing up to lay beside my little head
Attempting to crush memories of his sad fate
yet thinking of him often, so often as of late
A hero the time he attacked that poisonous snake
getting snakebit instead for his master's sake
A friend, a love , no greater has a boy ever had
In dog Heaven he awaits and I am so very glad
I had Bruce from age five years old until age
eleven. Six wonderful years, blessed years and
Even now at sixty not a week goes by that I don't
think of him , his loyalty and his faithful love.
I wrote this about twenty years ago. Found it
today in a scrap book , with no date attached but
remember writing it one week before Christmas in 1994.
Found the Christmas card from a dear friend(now departed)
right there with it...
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014
The Vicious Loud Dog
Out back they loosely kept
A very "vicious and loud dog"
And when I slept
It howled until I woke
Soon I found it calmed down
whenever I loudly spoke
Seems it just liked hearing my voice
not that I had any real choice
For speak clear and calmly I must
to gain it's silent trust
As the months flew by ever so fast
like a ship sailing full mast
I found that dog waking me nightly
To be a very sweet touch lightly
on my lonely 'ole soul
So much so that this I now know
the dog and I did nightly grow
Like the color to the snow
I dearly miss his nightly call
his masters moved late last fall
As winter sets me to shiver and chill
I faithfully vow that I soon will
Find myself my very own "viciously loud dog"!!! Robert L.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014
Once upon a time
There was this dog
He walked around so
Proud because he wore
A top hat most of the time.
He looked kind a shaggy
With all white long curly hair
And it made people turn
To see the dog with a hat
On his head.
So I named him Fred
You heard what I said.
He had a twinkle in his eye
To think of him
Make me want to cry.
One day in a hurry he ran
Out of the house.
I yelled Fred here boy,
You forgot your hat.
But just about that time
I heard a splat.
Sadly that was that.
Once upon a time
There was this dog Of mind
He wore a top hat
And he sure was proud
Copyright © SHARLOTTE NEWAN | Year Posted 2015
Roxy as the loudest rottweiler in Waterbury, an historic town in Connecticut,
Roxy was a vigilante dog, which never let a stranger or a burglar in;
once this ranch home was a haven, thanks for the love she had shown!
While I was watching my favorite movie, she joined in with interest;
I padded her to let her know that I approved of her curiosity,
and I spoiled her with foods that dogs shouldn't eat: like cookies and pastry!
On the sunniest days of spring and summert, we spent many hours playing, I threw the ball
and she would find it anywhere on the lawn and bring it back breathing heavily;
whoever says that dogs can't be human?....They have already proven that to us
by being our best friends! A dog can rescue a child from a burning house,
and jump into the coldest pool and bring that baby unharmed to safety;
and many of them take risks that we wouldn't take, to protect us in dangerous situations!
Canines have been our bodyguards since ancient times...Homer, the blind poet, had one, too,
but what they don't have is a spirit like ours, that spirit which returns, upon death, to God;
and will they ever go to Heaven with us? Our answer should be no, but the odds of taking
them with us, wouldn't be favorable, so we must leave them behind in their earthly dwelling!
When we'll be resurrected by Christ, we'll remember these loyal and dear companions
that shared our affections, our joy of loving, and our same fate: living and dying like we do!
Roxy was the gentlest and the most affectionate dog that ever lived, Roxy kept me from harm;
and what she gave was more than anyone could ever give! And my appreciation and gladness
were demonstrated in my caring ways: making sure she was well-fed and had plenty
of water to drink, when I would be gone for hours...and on my return, she would greet me
with a loud bark, and licking my cheeks, she jumped on me and tickled me with her paws!
Roxy was a gift from a neighbor who died alone; she entrusted her to me, and called me son!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009
We take turns stabbing
with our shovel at rocky clay dirt
until the cut's deep
enough for what little remains
of our family dog.
Warm wet salt drops--
on my tongue as
I sip wine from a fragile glass
Stare through to hawks
swimming in October winds
circling hills full of Diablo
full of still,
Copyright © Tamra Amato | Year Posted 2009
One eye was brown, the other blue,
Australian Shepard his breed-
a workin' dog with one heck of a nip
to the heels a cattle an' steed.
Just a little fur ball when I got him,
but I well remember the time,
he could out run 'n outsmart the lot,
an' make 'em all turn on a dime.
Those cold prairie nights, sleepin' under the stars,
that dog would warm my ol' bones,
I'd play my mouth-harp to settle the herd
while he sang in soft muffled tones.
Last winter there came a fierce blizzard,
we were caught in a mighty snowdrift.
Ol' Blue hunkered down, an' just held his ground,
saved us both from descendin' a cliff.
They talk about loyal in people,
an' I reckon there are quite a few,
but I trusted my life, even more than a wife,
to that mangy ol' dog name of Blue.
His muzzle fin'lly was grayin',
an' his gate turned to limpin' 'n slow,
but no matter the job I was doin',
he'd follow wherever I'd go.
One mornin', I rose from my dreamin'
but Ol' Blue just didn't get up;
I saw in his bed that slumberin' head,
an' thought sure he resembled a pup.
Now, cryin' just ain't in my nature,
nor whinin' 'bout things I can't change,
but I gotta confess, my heart broke at best,
an' was sad 'n plenty deranged.
I laid him to rest on the prairie
for the coyotes to sing him a song,
'cause no dog was quite so deservin'
to live on this Earth for so long.
An' if there's a Heaven for doggies,
I'm sure that's where Blue is today-
waggin' his tail, an' just proud as hell
of the work that he done without pay.
Copyright © Tamara Hillman | Year Posted 2005