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Dog Daze by Michael R. Burch Sweet Oz is a soulful snuggler; he really is one of the best. Sometimes in bed he snuggles my head, though he mostly just plops on my chest. I think Oz was made to love from the first ray of light to the dark, but his great love for me is exceeded (oh gee!) by his Truly Great Passion: to Bark. Oz is the Boss! by Michael R. Burch Oz is the boss! Because? Because ... Because of the wonderful things he does! He barks like a tyrant for treats and a hydrant; his voice far more regal than mere greyhound or beagle; his serfs must obey him or his yipping will slay them! Oz is the boss! Because? Because ... Because of the wonderful things he does! Xander the Joyous by Michael R. Burch Xander the Joyous came here to prove: Love can be playful! Love can have moves! Now Xander the Joyous bounds around heaven, waiting for him mommies, one of the SEVEN ? the Seven Great Saints of the Great Canine Race who evangelize Love throughout all Time and Space. Amen Epitaph for a Lambkin by Michael R. Burch (for Melody, the prettiest, sweetest and fluffiest dog ever) Now that Melody has been laid to rest Angels will know what it means to be blessed. Amen Bed Head by Michael R. Burch When Beth and her babies prepare for “good night” sweet rituals of kisses and cuddles commence. First Wickett, the eldest, whose mane has grown light with the wisdom of age and advanced senescence is tucked in, “just right.” Then Mary, the mother, is smothered with kisses in a way that befits such an angelic missus. Then Melody, lambkin, and sweet, soulful Oz and cute, clever Xander all clap their clipped paws and follow sweet Beth to their high nightly roost where they’ll sleep on her head (or, perhaps, her caboose). Excoriation of a Treat Slave by Michael R. Burch We practice our fierce Yapping, for when the treat slaves come they’ll grant Us our desire. (They really are that dumb!) They’ll never catch Us napping — our Ears pricked, keen and sharp. When they step into Our parlor, We’ll leap awake, and Bark. But one is rather doltish; he doesn’t understand the meaning of Our savage, imperial, wild Command. The others are quite docile and bow to Us on cue. We think the dull one wrote a poem about some Dog from Kew who never grasped Our secret, whose mind stayed think, and dark. It’s a question of obedience conveyed by a Lordly Bark. But as for playing fetch, well, that’s another matter. We think the dullard’s also as mad as any hatter and doesn’t grasp his duty to fling Us slobbery balls which We’d return to him, mincingly, here in Our royal halls. Wickett by Michael R. Burch Wickett, sweet Ewok, Wickett, old Soul, Wicket, brave Warrior, though no longer whole... You gave us your All. You gave us your Best. You taught us to Love, like all of the Blessed Angels and Saints of good human stock. You barked the Great Bark. You walked the True Walk. Now Wickett, dear Child and incorrigible Duffer, we commend you to God that you no longer suffer. May you dash through the Stars like the Wickett of old and never feel hunger and never know cold and be reunited with all our Good Tribe — with Harmony and Paw-Paw and Mary beside. Go now with our Love as the great Choir sings that Wickett, our Wickett, has at last earned his Wings! Tags: souls, heaven, loyalty The Resting Place by Michael R. Burch for Harmony Sleep, then, child; you were dearly loved. Sleep, and remember her well-loved face, strong arms that would lift you, soft hands that would move with love's infinite grace, such tender caresses! * When autumn came early, you could not stay. Now, wherever you wander, the wildflowers bloom and love is eternal. Her heart's great room is your resting place. * Await by the door her remembered step, her arms' warm embraces, that gathered you in. Sleep, child, and remember. Love need not regret its moment of weakness, for that is its strength, And when you awaken, she will be there, smiling, at the Rainbow Bridge. Lady's Favor: Ye Noble Ballade of Sir Dog and the Butterfly by Michael R. Burch Sir was such a gallant man! When he saw his Lady cry and beg him to send her a Butterfly, what else could he do, but comply? From heaven, he found a Monarch regal and able to defy north winds and a chilly sky; now Sir has his wings and can fly! When our gallant little dog Sir was unable to live any longer, my wife Beth asked him send her a sign, in the form of a butterfly, that Sir and her mother were reunited and together in heaven. It was cold weather, in the thirties. We rarely see Monarch butterflies in our area, even in the warmer months. But after Sir had been put to sleep, to spare him any further suffering, Beth found a Monarch butterfly in our back yard. It appeared to be lifeless, but she brought it inside, breathed on it, and it returned to life. The Monarch lived with us for another five days, with Beth feeding it fruit juice and Gatorade on a Scrubbie that it could crawl over like a flower. Beth is convinced that Sir sent her the message she had requested. Solo's Watch by Michael R. Burch Solo was a stray who found a safe place to stay with a warm and loving band, safe at last from whatever cruel hand made him flinch in his dreams. Now he wanders the clear-running streams that converge at the Rainbow's End and the Bridge where kind Angels attend to all souls who are ready to ascend. And always he looks for those who hugged him and held him close, who kissed him and called him dear and gave him a home free of fear, to welcome them to his home, here. Keywords/Tags: dog, dogs, canine, love, loyal, loyalty, friend, friends, friendship, man's best friend, companionship, bark, barking, soul, soulful, sweet, bossy, angel, angels, heaven, Rainbow Bridge

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Dog Daze I: Poems About Dogs

Dog Daze by Michael R. Burch Sweet Oz is a soulful snuggler; he really is one of the best. Sometimes in bed he snuggles my head, though he mostly just plops on my chest. I think Oz was made to love from the first ray of light to the dark, but his great love for me is exceeded (oh gee!) by his Truly Great Passion: to Bark. Oz is the Boss! by Michael R. Burch Oz is the boss! Because? Because ... Because of the wonderful things he does! He barks like a tyrant for treats and a hydrant; his voice far more regal than mere greyhound or beagle; his serfs must obey him or his yipping will slay them! Oz is the boss! Because? Because ... Because of the wonderful things he does! Xander the Joyous by Michael R. Burch Xander the Joyous came here to prove: Love can be playful! Love can have moves! Now Xander the Joyous bounds around heaven, waiting for him mommies, one of the SEVEN ? the Seven Great Saints of the Great Canine Race who evangelize Love throughout all Time and Space. Amen Epitaph for a Lambkin by Michael R. Burch (for Melody, the prettiest, sweetest and fluffiest dog ever) Now that Melody has been laid to rest Angels will know what it means to be blessed. Amen Bed Head by Michael R. Burch When Beth and her babies prepare for “good night” sweet rituals of kisses and cuddles commence. First Wickett, the eldest, whose mane has grown light with the wisdom of age and advanced senescence is tucked in, “just right.” Then Mary, the mother, is smothered with kisses in a way that befits such an angelic missus. Then Melody, lambkin, and sweet, soulful Oz and cute, clever Xander all clap their clipped paws and follow sweet Beth to their high nightly roost where they’ll sleep on her head (or, perhaps, her caboose). Excoriation of a Treat Slave by Michael R. Burch We practice our fierce Yapping, for when the treat slaves come they’ll grant Us our desire. (They really are that dumb!) They’ll never catch Us napping — our Ears pricked, keen and sharp. When they step into Our parlor, We’ll leap awake, and Bark. But one is rather doltish; he doesn’t understand the meaning of Our savage, imperial, wild Command. The others are quite docile and bow to Us on cue. We think the dull one wrote a poem about some Dog from Kew who never grasped Our secret, whose mind stayed think, and dark. It’s a question of obedience conveyed by a Lordly Bark. But as for playing fetch, well, that’s another matter. We think the dullard’s also as mad as any hatter and doesn’t grasp his duty to fling Us slobbery balls which We’d return to him, mincingly, here in Our royal halls. Wickett by Michael R. Burch Wickett, sweet Ewok, Wickett, old Soul, Wicket, brave Warrior, though no longer whole... You gave us your All. You gave us your Best. You taught us to Love, like all of the Blessed Angels and Saints of good human stock. You barked the Great Bark. You walked the True Walk. Now Wickett, dear Child and incorrigible Duffer, we commend you to God that you no longer suffer. May you dash through the Stars like the Wickett of old and never feel hunger and never know cold and be reunited with all our Good Tribe — with Harmony and Paw-Paw and Mary beside. Go now with our Love as the great Choir sings that Wickett, our Wickett, has at last earned his Wings! Tags: souls, heaven, loyalty The Resting Place by Michael R. Burch for Harmony Sleep, then, child; you were dearly loved. Sleep, and remember her well-loved face, strong arms that would lift you, soft hands that would move with love's infinite grace, such tender caresses! * When autumn came early, you could not stay. Now, wherever you wander, the wildflowers bloom and love is eternal. Her heart's great room is your resting place. * Await by the door her remembered step, her arms' warm embraces, that gathered you in. Sleep, child, and remember. Love need not regret its moment of weakness, for that is its strength, And when you awaken, she will be there, smiling, at the Rainbow Bridge. Lady's Favor: Ye Noble Ballade of Sir Dog and the Butterfly by Michael R. Burch Sir was such a gallant man! When he saw his Lady cry and beg him to send her a Butterfly, what else could he do, but comply? From heaven, he found a Monarch regal and able to defy north winds and a chilly sky; now Sir has his wings and can fly! When our gallant little dog Sir was unable to live any longer, my wife Beth asked him send her a sign, in the form of a butterfly, that Sir and her mother were reunited and together in heaven. It was cold weather, in the thirties. We rarely see Monarch butterflies in our area, even in the warmer months. But after Sir had been put to sleep, to spare him any further suffering, Beth found a Monarch butterfly in our back yard. It appeared to be lifeless, but she brought it inside, breathed on it, and it returned to life. The Monarch lived with us for another five days, with Beth feeding it fruit juice and Gatorade on a Scrubbie that it could crawl over like a flower. Beth is convinced that Sir sent her the message she had requested. Solo's Watch by Michael R. Burch Solo was a stray who found a safe place to stay with a warm and loving band, safe at last from whatever cruel hand made him flinch in his dreams. Now he wanders the clear-running streams that converge at the Rainbow's End and the Bridge where kind Angels attend to all souls who are ready to ascend. And always he looks for those who hugged him and held him close, who kissed him and called him dear and gave him a home free of fear, to welcome them to his home, here. Keywords/Tags: dog, dogs, canine, love, loyal, loyalty, friend, friends, friendship, man's best friend, companionship, bark, barking, soul, soulful, sweet, bossy, angel, angels, heaven, Rainbow Bridge