Long Saint bernard Poems
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Lucy’s earthly journey ended
and she is now in Pet Heaven,
just a mere five years old, but she left a hole the size of the Grand Canyon
in the heart of a blue-eyed earth angel.
Karyn waited at the big gate for her,
arms open wide,
tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her sister’s, Lulu — her beloved dog —
took her final breath,
wrapped safely in her mother’s arms.
No longer in pain, she runs free,
leaping, playing, without a care,
feasting on delights without end —
her bowl always full for the taking.
No more belly aches, no rushing to the vet —
just boundless joy and endless peace.
Yet her brown eyes soften for a moment,
looking down on her human mother and brother,
their love still tethered to her soul.
But then — a familiar face appears —
Kaia, her Newfoundland big sister, comes bounding near,
welcoming her with licks and happy yelps,
running circles around an angel —
an angel with brown hair and warm brown eyes.
Karyn smiles through her tears,
opening her arms wide once more.
And softly she whispers,
“They are safe with me, my sister.
I will watch over them,
just as you watched over them — and me.
Sleep in peace,
knowing we will all be together one day,
completing the circle,
as written in the stars.”
Then Lucy pipes up,
“Leave my favourite window open, Mom.
That is where you will find me when you need me.”
Faithful Beloved Companion
Lucy Klassen
February 29, 2020
March 11, 2025
My skin and hair will never fall off, because the paint will always hold us together.
Paint is perpetually on my nails, under my nails, on my toes, and on my nose.
My good clothes are often my accidental paint clothes.
I have more paint clothes than I have other clothes.
Because I keep forgetting what I am wearing, and when I want to paint, I paint.
I am a sloppy painter, putting my elbows and knees into paint, smearing the canvases,
Dumping over paint jars. Imagine a Saint Bernard trying to paint, that is me.
In the morning I am not sure if I do not use the mirror, or if I do not notice, but
When I get to work, people start cleaning me up. They apologize as they rub glitter off my cheeks,
And a streak of red or green paint off my cheek. They put my tags in, because they are always
Sticking up too. My whole staff dresses me, finding stuff I would have never seen, because I
Truthfully do not care. Dressing used to be important to me. I am not sure when that changed,
Maybe, when I started getting paint on everything I own.
homemade chicken noodle soup and a grilled lipton burger
sixites latin music bumping out of the speakers and your booty just a-shakin'
no cares in the moment and unconditional love floating all around
you steal a kiss and a light slap on my butt
i shake my head as you laugh like mad at me actually blushing
i grab you a water and myself some blue cream soda
we take our reverie to the new deck your brother built for us and admire the view
old sookie the saint bernard finds the energy to come and beg for our food
he is drooling banana peel brain style and you toss him something
now it is my turn to guffaw and shake my head
we begin to converse as old sookie finds his lazy bone again and falls asleep between our deck chairs
you take my hand
i blush again
you say 'you need to quit'
now i steal a kiss from you
you deepen the kiss
FOOD FULLY DIGESTED!
the rest we will leave to the obvious part of somebody's imagination
i will just say dessert was wonderful and perfect....
I always thought it was impossible for a person to reincarnate but I learned that they can.
After I died, I reincarnated but I didn't come back to life as a man.
I came back to life as a dog and my wife is my owner.
Even though I'm a dog, she still gives me a *****.
I was shocked when I looked in the mirror and saw that I'm a Saint Bernard.
Some times my wife tries to date men but I chase them and I bite them hard.
When I was a Human, I had elegance and class.
But last night I bit a chunk out of a man's ass.
Certain things put me in a bad mood.
One of which is having to eat Dog Food.
Being near my wife is intoxicating and it's sure to please.
But I'm about to itch to death because of these damn fleas.
I'll stop my wife from dating men until I die, that's what I'll do.
If you ever try to date my wife, I'll take a big chunk out of you.
(This is a fictional poem)
(This is a true story)
I love dogs but there was one dog that I hated.
When she died in 1985, I celebrated.
That stinking dog roamed the neighborhood and killed people's animals.
The lousy owner was the one who was responsible.
That witch wouldn't keep her dog tied or put a fence in her yard.
A lot of people suffered because of her Saint Bernard.
We took the owner to court but the judge said there was nothing he could do.
What the hell is this country coming to?
That dog killed my dog and my cat.
She killed a lot of other people's animals too and they didn't deserve that.
That dog and the owner really made me mad.
When that Saint Bernard died, I certainly was glad.
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