Everything posted here in this blog post is not written by me.
I remember bringing you home. You were so small and cuddly with your tiny paws and soft fur.
You bounced around the room with eyes flashing and ears flopping.
Once in a while, you'd let out a little yelp just to let me know this was your territory.
Making a mess of the house and chewing on everything in sight became a passion, and when I scolded you, you just put your head down and looked up at me with those innocent eyes, as if to say, "I'm sorry, but I'll do it again as soon as you're not watching."
As you got older, you protected me by looking out the window and barking at everyone who walked by.
When I had a tough day at work, you would be waiting for me with your tail wagging just to say, "Welcome home. I missed you. "You never had a bad day, and I could always count on you to be there for me.
When I sat down to read the paper and watch TV, you would hop on my lap, looking for attention. You never asked for anything more than for me to pat your head so you could go to sleep with your head over my leg.
As you got older, you moved around more slowly. Then, one day, old age finally took its toll, and you couldn't stand on those wobbly legs anymore. I knelt down and patted you lying there, trying to make you young again. You just looked up at me as if to say you were old and tired and that after all these years of not asking for anything, you had to ask me for one last favor. With tears in my eyes, I drove you one last time to the vet. One last time, you were lying next to me.
For some strange reason, you were able to stand up in the animal hospital, perhaps it was your sense of pride.
As the vet led you away, you stopped for an instant, turned your head and looked at me as if to say, "Thank you for taking care of me.
I thought, "No... thank you for taking care of me."
By Chuck Wells
I AM NOT THERE
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
They are our friends, companions, and protectors,
They are our family members in furry coats,
They give us everything that they are and ask only to be loved.
Let us be worthy of their devotion
(author unknown)
The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this, the last battle, can't be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me,
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree,
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you,
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close,we two, these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
