AZWildcat

Hi Everyone,

Can someone please point me to a previous thread that had some really touching poems/stories about the death of a dog--for example the one where the little boy knows why his dog has to die after short years--it's because he already knows how to love... (a good friend of mine is losing her dog, and I was hoping for something comforting for her).

Tried searching and can't seem to find it!
Thanks in advance,
AZWildcat

starrsville

I just topped a thread that may be the one you are looking for. (Not sure)

ElendilPickle

How lovely of you to want to help your friend.

It sounds like something that would have been posted in a Freaky Friday thread. Did you search for those?

I hope you find it somehow.

Lee Ann

starrsville

I went with a friend a couple of weeks ago to the last visit to the vet's. It was a very emotional day. I later ordered the book "Dog Heaven" to be sent from Amazon.com. Very short, picture book, but it helped me a lot when I was grieving two of my "girlies".

AZWildcat

Thanks Starrsville and Elendilpickle!!! I have cut and paste the poems in a document--and hope to not have to use them for a long time, but want to have them handy just in case the worst happens.

AZWildcat

starrsville

Here's a link to the Rainbow Bridge poem - if that is what you are looking for. It takes you to a pet loss site.

http://rainbowsbridge.com/Poem.htm

cigalechanta

hi Az, when my dog died I sent this Neruda poem to my close friends.

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.

Ai, 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

wantsomesun

Direct your friend to the Rainbow Bridge where the family can post a memorial to the dog and read what other dog lovers have left there to remember their loved animals.

My Rocky is memorialized there. A Russian Blue cat who passed away in 1997 at the age of almost 23. Lots of wonderful stories of animals at The Rainbow Bridge, it will help your friend with this passing.

DebitNM

I first saw this in Ann Lander's column. Though I didn't need it at the time, I saved it because I knew I would one day...

A Dog's Plea

Treat me kindly, my beloved friend,
for no heart in all the world
is more grateful for kindness
than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick,
for though I should lick your hand between blows,
your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me
the things you would have me learn.
Speak to me often,
for your voice is the world's sweetest music,
as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail
when the sound of your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
Please take me inside when it is cold and wet,
for I am a domesticated animal,
no longer accustomed to bitter elements.
I ask no greater glory than the privilege
of sitting beneath your feet beside the hearth.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water
for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food that I may stay well,
to romp and play and do your bidding,
to walk by your side
and stand ready, willing and able
to protect you with my life
should your life be in danger.
And my friend, when I am very old,
and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight,
do not make heroic efforts to keep me going.
I'm not having any fun.
Please see that my trusting life is taken gently.
I shall leave this earth knowing
with the last breath I draw
that my fate was always safest
in your hands.

– Beth Norman Harris

There are many others at:
http://www.griefhealing.com/granimallovers.htm

What a good friend you are
Debi

karens

I have this saying next to a framed picture of my first German shepard:

Happy would it be for thousands of people if they could stand at last before the Judgment Seat and say, "I have loved as truly and lived as decently as my dog!"

--Henry Ward Beecher

L84SKY

Billy Collins wrote a heartwarming little piece about a dog, not dying but if you were going to make a little collection your friend might enjoy this:


Dharma

The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money
or the keys to her doghouse
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.

Who provides a finer example
of a life without encumbrance —
Thoreau in his curtainless hut
with a single plate, a single spoon?
Gandhi with his staff and his holy diapers?

Off she goes into the material world
with nothing but her brown coat
and her modest blue collar,
following only her wet nose,
the twin portals of her steady breathing,
followed only by the plume of her tail.

If only she did not shove the cat aside
every morning
and eat all his food
what a model of self-containment she
would be,
what a paragon of earthly detachment.
If only she were not so eager
for a rub behind the ears,
so acrobatic in her welcomes,
if only I were not her god.




-- Billy Collins

pdx

good job, cigalechanta. I sit down to read a little fodors and end up crying over a dog that's been dead for 3 years. (but it's a lovely poem, thanks for sharing it.)

cigalechanta

I know pdx, I cry every time I read this unsweet but so real what my dog was like.

mikemo

www.greyhoundsunlimited.org
click the (modified) Rainbow Bridge.
All my Greyhounds are waiting there.
M

Stephanie

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

lindsyb

Topping for Debi

EllieMayLynch

The following poem sooths my broken heart (just a little) when I lose a furry member of the family:

We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.
--Irving Townsend

I also recommend "How to Survive the Loss of a Love."

Best wishes.

cigalechanta

My dog was blind and had Alzheimers(canine cognitive syndrome) I took care of him for a year before he died and I sent my friends this poem by Neruda:
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.

Ai, 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.

starrsville

I love that, cig. Thanks for posting it.

My Ellie has eyes like that.