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|Author:||Catherine [ Sat Jun 25, 2005 8:52 pm ]|
by Jimmy Stewart
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.
When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.
Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.
He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.
He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.
On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.
He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.
But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.
We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.
He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.
And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.
And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.
And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.
And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.
This poem was taken from Jimmy Stewart and His Poems by Jimmy Stewart, a short collection of poems published by Crown Publishers, Inc. in 1989. To order this book, call the Full Circle Book Store at 1-800-683-READ. Refer to ISBN number 0-517-57382-2. It's a little illustrated hardback that costs about $12. You can also order the book on audio cassette tape (Random House (Audio), October 1990; ISBN: 0394587723) read by Jimmy himself.
|Author:||dori [ Mon Jun 27, 2005 4:15 pm ]|
I remember lying in a hospital bed, being very careful not to disturb my furry friend Charlie Brown. What a disappointment to wake up and find no Charlie around.
I will never forget the last day of Charlie's life. Or of Zar's. Or any of my other pets through the years. But mostly, I will never forget they were my always caring friends.
|Author:||DO.g's [ Mon Jun 27, 2005 4:48 pm ]|
|Post subject:||An ode to love|
The more I get to know people...
My Caesar is now 11 years old and has become a floormat with eyes. He watches me constantly for a move towards the door, or a word like truck, walk, go, cookie, dinner, and his batwing ears are up and he charges to the door to ensure that no one forgets the dog. My girl always says, "all he does is watch you with love in his eyes". I hope he lives at least 5 more years, but when the pain is too much, I hope it is within me to ease his pain mercifully. Their devotion is an inspiration.
I believe he is learning to communicate with me, by observing our habits.
We are together constantly.
He has changed my life and the way I view dogs and people.
|Author:||Catherine [ Mon Jun 27, 2005 10:12 pm ]|
Our Abby passed away a year ago July 4. I miss her terribly...every day.
|Author:||JayHawk [ Tue Jun 28, 2005 10:25 am ]|
some dogs are better people than some people are. (my Dad)
|Author:||mga [ Tue Jun 28, 2005 10:42 am ]|
after i put my last dog to sleep in my arms, i swore i'd never get another dog again. well, several years later, i ended up with a mutt named Jade. this dog is my shadow and she lives her life literally for me (or so it seems)
now, someday, i'll have to go thru the same with her.....damn dogs.
|Author:||JayHawk [ Wed Jun 29, 2005 9:14 am ]|
I know the feeling ...all too well. Our big loveable totally black german shepherd Nero died in my arms at the Vet. We loved him so much we vowed to never ever have another dog or any other kind of pet. That stance lasted for 10 years and was broken when a scrawny young cat came begging on an extremely hot summer day. She was close to dehydration and starvation and her right hind leg was injured. The neighbor lady threw apples at her to scare her off but I took her in and we went throught the Vet procedires and all. Now Gypsy greets me at the gate every evening when I come home from work.
We've never bought a pet, not even in my younger years. They've always been in need of help. Today, as I write this, we have bats, a hedgehog, our cat and all the neighbor's dogs to make our lives a bit mroe colourful.
|Author:||Catherine [ Wed Jun 29, 2005 9:37 am ]|
You're a jewel, Jayhawk!
Gypsy knew the right person to come to, even if she did have to struggle through a gauntlet of apple bombs.
Remember what that great philosopher Colette said: "There are no ordinary cats."
|Author:||TheStripey1 [ Thu Jun 30, 2005 3:06 pm ]|
and don't forget that old adage...
Dogs have owners... Cats have staff...
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