A Girl and Her Dogs

A DOG ON A EUTHANASIA TABLE

I’m trembling and so worried, for I know I misbehaved.
I chewed Dad’s brand new slippers and saw just how he raged.

I did not mean to wreck them, but my teeth were very sore,
and chewing them relieved the pain and made me feel less bored
And when mom came to smack me, I piddled on the floor,
For I had held my pee all day and could not get out the door.

They said that I was “wicked”, a menace at first glance,
and when they tied me up outside, I howled for one more chance.

Rolled over and sat pretty, and did all those tricks they loved
But they could not forget the wrong and said they had enough
So they took me to a clinic where the smell alone put fear
Into my trembling body, but my cries they did not hear.

For they turned and walked out through the door, without a hug or pat.
I wonder if they will forget, and forgive me, when they come back?
But why do I feel so frightened, as though they’ve gone for good.

They said they’d love me till I died, they really said they would.
I’m strapped onto a table and they’re shaving my front leg
I think I’m getting a needle now, I feel it in my vein…
And why do I feel so lonely? without them comforting me?
And why do I feel so sleepy?
Oh please God, let them forgive me..

Author Unknown

A Dog Sits Waiting
By Kathy Flood

A dog sits waiting in the cold autumn sun,
Too faithful to leave, too frightened to run.
He’s been here for days now with nothing to do
But sit by the road, waiting for you.
He can’t understand why you left him that day
He thought you and he were stopping to play.
He’s sure you’ll come back, and that’s why he stays
How long will he suffer: How many more days?
His legs have grown weak, his throat’s parched and dry
He’s sick now from hunger and falls with a sigh.
He lays down his head and closes his eyes
I wish you could see how a waiting dog dies.

A Dog Has Died

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:

he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Oh how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:

my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.

Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer

written by Pablo Neruda

Epitaph to a Dog

His friends he loved. His fellest earthly foes–
Cats–I believe he did but feign to hate.
My hand will miss the insinuated nose,
Mine eyes that tail that wagged contempt at Fate.

Sir William Watson

If my dog is barred by the heavenly guard
We’ll both of us brave the heat!

W. Dayton Wedgefarth

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

Thorns may hurt you, men desert you, sunlight turn to fog;
but you’re never friendless ever, if you have a dog.

Douglas Mallock

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