The previous post got me thinking about a poem I wrote after the loss of my Malinois Arrow. In the past 2 years our family has lost 2 more of thise very special dogs, Ricardo and TJ passed last year. Vets always give you the "Rainbow Bridge"  poem, but I thought we could do a little better than that and so here is my attempt in rememberance of Ben, Arrow, Penny, Rocky. Ricardo and TJ, all of whom enriched my life so greatly.........

Arrow

 

I looked at your face today, old man, and

I saw the face of our brother, long passed away.

The white face and the tired look in the eye

Of a dog ever tireless.

I miss you tonight and you’ve not yet left.

But, I know it’s not long.

 

You’ve been my teacher for some twelve years

And I’ve learned

About responsibility and forgiveness

Truth and loyalty

Laughter and the pure joy of living

The days that grace you.

 

Soon you’ll teach me your last lessons

About completion and grief,

Respect and remembrance.

How to cherish what you do have and waste not time

Coveting that which you don’t.

You see, I have listened all these years.

 

It seems we’ve arrived in this place too quickly

And I fear I’ve left something undone or unsaid

Though I know you’ll forgive me, you always have.

But what an adventure we’ve lived

Of successes and failures, an education each

Of faces and places come and gone

Some remembered, and some forgotten.

 

Every day has become dearer

The laughter has come more easily, and we are moved to simpler joys

No longer is it about trophies or championships

Those things are far away in the past.

We are more than that.

 

When I look at you now

There is such a dignity about you

Even in your last hours

Even in your pain and weakness

And I promise to recall you with that dignity

And that mischievous eye I’ve known all these years.

 

Come; lie down old man, at my feet.

Feel the fire on your tired body

Leave away the pains and the labored breath

We’ll think together about easier days

Though none more precious than this last one

Lie down, and rest with me now

You are my son, my teacher, and my brother.

 

 

© Girard William Bradshaw February 26, 2004

A Dog's Purpose 

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat a s Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation.

He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good Life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The Six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'

Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.