Can I just say thank you to all those here who have been so supportive of me today as I saw off my old dog?
And share with all of you a poem that a crotchety angel called MorToo sent to me? It meant a great deal to receive so many loving messages. It helped me to get through it….it really did.
I laid beside him on the examining table and whispered into his ear as he faded “Thank you for being the best dog anyone will ever know”. His name was Jazz. He was almost 18. And even with what I discovered today was a basel cell carcinoma of the jaw which had invaded his lymph nodes, he managed to find joy on the walk to the Vets. To stop and coax pats out of two old ladies and to investigate the feet of babies in prams. To *** on bushes and take one last luxurious cr@p beside a telegraph pole.
He cost $30 all those years ago, from a market stall in Sydney.And I swear I got the same weight in fleas as I did in puppy.
It was the best money I ever spent.
The Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie–
Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find–it’s your own affair–
But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone–wherever it goes–for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long–
So why in–Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
Rudyard Kipling
Honourable mention to Stu, Paulie, Cassie, Asif…………….and last but never ever least….to Mal.my crotchety Guardian Angel. I don’t know how I got on before I knew any of you.
Hound Dog…what a lovely vision of dog heaven.Thank you for sharing it with me.
Bobbie and Ethan…thanks for your defense of me…but he doesn’ t matter. There’s no more room for pain in me today, so the words of a thoughtless stranger can’t wound. Possibly he has just never known the love of a good dog……how sad for him… sadder by far than our knowing what it is to lose one.
hey spambots at the bottom there…I’m just going to bury him in the backyard under his favourite ****** tree…no need to try to bakroll a fancy funeral OK?
July 15th, 2010 at 9:40 am
So what is your question? (see rules)