A Girl and Her Dogs

I talk to him when I’m lonesome like;
And I’m sure he understands.
When he looks at me so attentively,
And gently licks my hands;
Then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes,
But I never say naught thereat.
For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes,
But never a friend like that.

W. Dayton Wedgefarth

My sunshine doesn’t come from the skies,
It comes from the love in my dog’s eyes.

Unknown Poet

I explained it to St. Peter,
I’d rather stay here
Outside the pearly gate.
I won’t be a nuisance,
I won’t even bark, I’ll be very patient and wait,
I’ll be here, chewing on a celestial bone,
No matter how long you may be.
I’d miss you so much, if I went in alone,
It wouldn’t be heaven for me.

Unknown Poet

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But 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.

Rudyard Kipling

I lie belly-up
In the sunshine, happier than
You ever will be.

Today I sniffed
Many dog butts — I celebrate
By kissing your face.

I sound the alarm!
Paperboy — come to kill us all —
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

I sound the alarm!
Garbage man — come to kill us all —
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

I lift my leg and
Whiz on each bush. Hello, Spot —
Sniff this and weep.

I Hate my choke chain —
Look, world, they strangle me! Ack
Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!

Sleeping here, my chin
On your foot — no greater bliss — well,
Maybe catching cats.

Look in my eyes and
Deny it. No human could
Love you as much I do.

Anonymous

Sleeping with your Dog

Now I lay me down to sleep,
The king-size bed is soft and deep.
I sleep right in the center groove
My human being can hardly move!

I’ve trapped her legs, she’s tucked in tight
And here is where I pass the night
No one disturbs me or dares intrude
Till morning comes and “I want food!”

I sneak up slowly to begin
my nibbles on my human’s chin.
She wakes up quickly,
I have sharp teeth-
I’m a puppy, don’t you see?

For the morning’s here
and it’s time to play
I always seem to get my way.

So thank you Lord for giving me
This human person that I see.
The one who hugs and holds me tight
And shares her bed with me at night!

Unknown

My Dear Beloved Dogs,

While you know I love you dearly, there are a couple of things that have been bothering me lately. I thought it might help me to get them off my chest. While I have tried to talk to you about it, you seem to miss the point. I thought perhaps a letter might lend it more weight.

1. Feeding time. I feed you adequate amounts of food, and moreover, do so every day, consistently. I would appreciate it if you would limit your enthusiasm at my every movement prior to 7:00 am and until after 10:00 pm. If I roll over in bed, this does not necessarily mean I am getting up to feed you. In the same way, shifting my position on the couch at night does not mean I am getting up to feed you. Also, I am grouchy in the morning when I get up. I would appreciate it if when I shower you would not wait at attention at the bathroom door. Please wait until after I have had my coffee. I promise, I won’t forget to feed you. I know I did that once, but that was over 10 years ago and I would appreciate it if you would take into account my exemplary performance since that time.

2. Taking dumps. In the mornings, I don’t think that you need to take 20 minutes to sniff and snort at every inch of grass on our small patch of lawn. Let me point out that you poop there twice a day, every day. Over the course of a month, that’s 60 poops each. I’m sure that if you somehow miss taking a dump on the absolutely perfect patch of grass, that you can try to hit it up the next day. Additionally, as I am the one who cleans it up, I can virtually guarantee you that you have pooped, at some point or another, on every available inch of grass on that lawn.

3. Medical issues. You are taking advantage of me. I would like to point out, with respect to #2 above, that I would be much harsher with disclipline in this area if it weren’t for Molly’s new incontinence problem. Not only did I have to take you, Molly, to the vet as you dribbled out urine in the reception area, I had to buy your medicine from a human pharmacist who I suspect didn’t believe me when I said the medicine was for my dog. Somewhere, there is a computer record of my name and a prescription for incontinence medication, all for your sake. So, just because I now feel obligated to wait and make sure you both squeeze every drop of urine out, doesn’t mean that you need to take advantage of me by taking 20 minutes to find the right spot.

4. The cat. There are a few issues with the cat. First off, I don’t think the cat terribly appreciates it when you sniff her butt. I realize that this is a time-honored canine ritual, but I would like to point out that the cat is not a dog, and therefore does not especially like having her butt sniffed vigorously by two 60 pound dogs. I think I speak for her when I say that lifting both her hind legs in the air as you shove your snouts in her private regions is just plain rude. Second, the litter box is her domain, not yours, and (I speak to you particularly here, Emma), you should not be trying to eat her poop. As mentioned in #1, I feed you adequate amounts of food and there is no need to supplement your diet with tasty feline nuggets. I would like to point out that the jar of dog biscuits is for that purpose, and if you behaved properly more often, you might get more of those.

5. Grooming. You both shed enormous amounts of fur. I would very much appreciate it if, when I am brushing you, you would not flop over immediately onto your back. I realize that you like belly rubs, however, the fur on your back, neck and haunches is where the action is, fur-wise, and where I would like to concentrate my efforts. Additionally, when I bathe you, it would be nice if you stood somewhat still, and didn’t target your shakes at me. I think it would be just peachy if you would shake yourself off at some distance, instead of following me around as soon as I put down the hose and waiting until you are close to me to shake off.

6. Butt-licking. I realize that it is in your nature to lick your butts. I am not asking you to abstain. I would, however, appreciate some consideration in this area. Please limit your butt-licking to the hours in which I am not home. If you absolutely feel the need to lick your butt when I’m home, please do so quietly. No slurping. Furthermore, do not expect to lick me after doing so. I will require a 30 minute time window before I will feel like petting you again.

7. Nose shoving. When you want to get petted, it is more than adequate to sit on the ground next to me, make eye contact, and wag your tail expectantly. I can understand this. If I do not pet you, it is usually because I am involved with something else. It is not necessary to shove your nose under my hand in an attempt to get my attention, and in fact, this usually goes badly. Take a moment here and consider yesterday morning’s coffee incident. This type of thing happens far too often and it must stop.

8. Greetings. I have noticed that when I get home from work, you rarely bother to get up from your pillows. While I appreciate the reclining tail thumps, it does hurt my feelings that I don’t get more of a welcome home. This would not be so distressing if it were not for the fact that whenever guests come over, you greet them with unbridled enthusiam. Why don’t I deserve the same, after all I do for you?

I hope, dear dogs, that you will take the following under consideration.

Cheers,

Your loving owner

Dear Dogs,

When I say to move, it means to go someplace else, not to switch positions with each other so there are still two of you in the way.

The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn’t help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years–canine attendance is not mandatory.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog’s butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To pacify you, my dear dogs, I have posted the following message on our front door:

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets:

1. They live here. You don’t.

2. If you don’t want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That’s why they call it “fur”niture.)

3. I like my dogs a lot better than most people.

4. To you, it’s an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn’t speak clearly. Dogs and cats are better than kids …they eat less, don’t ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don’t hang out with drug-using friends, don’t smoke or drink, don’t worry about having to buy the latest fashions, don’t wear your clothes, and don’t need a gazillion dollars for college - and if they get pregnant, you can sell the children.

- Author Unknown

I Found Your Dog Today…
(author unknown)

I found your dog today.
No, he has not been adopted by anyone.
Most of us who live out here own as many
dogs as we want, those who do not own
dogs do so because they choose not to.
I know you hoped he would find a good
home when you left him out here, but he
did not. When I first saw him he was miles
from the nearest house and he was alone,
thirsty, thin and limping from a burr in his paw.

How I wish I could have been you as I stood
before him. To see his tail wag and his eyes
brighten as he bounded into your arms, knowing
you would find him, knowing you had not
forgotten him. To see the forgiveness in his eyes
for the suffering and pain he had known
in his never-ending quest to find you…but I was
not you. And despite all my persuasion, his
eyes see a stranger. He did not trust.
He would not come.

He turned and continued his journey;
one he was sure would bring him to you.
He does not understand you are not looking for
him. He only knows you are not there, he only
knows he must find you. This is more important
than food or water or the stranger who can give
him these things.

Persuasion and pursuit seemed futile;
I did not even know his name. I drove home,
filled a bucket with water and a bowl with food
and returned to where we had met. I could see
no sign of him, but I left my offering under the
tree where he had sought shelter from the sun
and a chance to rest. You see, he is not of the
desert. When you domesticated him, you took
away any instinct of survival out here. His
purpose demands that he travel during the day.
He doesn’t know that the sun and heat will claim
his life. He only knows that he has to find you.

I waited hoping he would return to the tree;
hoping my gift would build an element of trust
so I might bring him home, remove the burr from
his paw, give him a cool place to lie and help
him understand that the part of his life with you
is now over. He did not return that morning and
at dusk the water and food were still there
untouched. And I worried. You must understand
that many people would not attempt to help your
dog. Some would run him off, others would call
the county and the fate you thought you saved
him from would be preempted by his suffering
for days without food or water.

I returned again before dark. I did not see him.
I went again early the next morning only to find
the food and water still untouched. If only you
were here to call his name. Your voice is so
familiar to him. I began pursuit in the direction
he had taken yesterday, doubt overshadowing
my hope of finding him. His search for you was
desperate, it could take him many miles in
24 hours.

It is hours later and a good distance from where
we first met, but I have found your dog. His thirst
has stopped, it is no longer a torment to him.
His hunger has disappeared, he no longer aches.
The burrs in his paws bother him no more.
Your dog has been set free from his burdens,
you see, your dog has died.

I kneel next to him and I curse you for not being
here yesterday so I could see the glow, if just for
a moment, in those now vacant eyes. I pray that
his journey has taken him to that place I think you
hoped he would find. If only you knew what he
went through to reach it…and I agonize, for I know,
that were he to awaken at this moment, and (if) I
were to be you, his eyes would sparkle with
recognition and his tail would wag with forgiveness.

Why own a dog? There’s a danger you know,
You can’t own just one, for the craving will grow.
There’s no doubt they’re addictive, wherein lies the danger.
While living with lots, you’ll grow poorer and stranger.

One dog is no trouble, and two are so funny.
The third one is easy, the fourth one’s a honey.
The fifth one’s delightful, the sixth one’s a breeze,
You find you can live with a houseful with ease.

So how ’bout another? Would you really dare?
They’re really quite easy but, oh, Lord the hair!
With dogs on the sofa and dogs on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, it’s no bother, you’ve said.

They’re really no trouble, their manners are great.
What’s one more dog and just one more crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty,
The floor is all footprints, the furniture dusty.

The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few noseprints and a little more hair?
So let’s keep a puppy, you can always find room,
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom.

There’s hardly a limit to the dogs you can add,
The thought of a cutback sure makes you sad.
Each one is so special, so useful, so funny.
The vet and food bills grow larger and cost so much money.

Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other “dog folks” who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died, and your shrubs are dead too,
But your weekends are busy, you’re off with your crew.

There’s dog food and vitamins, training and shots.
And entries and travel and motels which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then that favorite one comes and climbs in your lap.

His look says you’re special and you know that you will
Keep all of the critters in spite of the bill.
Some just for showing and some just to breed.
And some just for loving, they all fill a need.

God, winter’s a hassle, the dogs hate it too.
But they must have their walks though they’re numb and you’re blue.
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout
At the dogs on the sofa who refuse to go out.

The dogs and the dog shows, the travel, the thrills,
The work and the worry, the pressure, the bills.
The whole thing seems worth it, the dogs are your life.
They’re charming and funny and offset the strife.

Your life-style has changed. Things won’t be the same.
Yes, those dogs are addictive and so is the dog game.

Unknown Poet