The Power of the Dog

by Rudyard Kipling  

  

*sniff*  Every time I hear this poem I think of my dog, Zak.  He is my angel and I can't bear to think of anything happening to him.  I have decided to dedicate this page to him.  

He did not have a promising start in life.  We picked him up from a rescue shelter when he was 6 months old.  He was so nervous that he literally crawled out of the building on his stomach.  We picked him up to put him in the car and he wet himself.  We couldn't even pat him on the head or he would lose bladder control.   We had to teach him how to drink from a dog bowl and how to play with toys - and even how to bark (he didn't utter a word for the first 5 months - we thought he was mute).  

But we worked with him, we loved him and nurtered him and (although he is still nervous of strange men) he is a totally reformed pooch.  I feel so lucky to have found him and I also feel so proud at what we've given him - a life.

Zak - I love you, baby!

 

Zak - my baby!

    

The Power of the Dog

by Rudyard Kpling

 

THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;

And 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.

   

Buy a pup and your money will buy

Love unflinching that cannot lie--

Perfect passion and worship fed

By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.

Nevertheless it is hardly fair

To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

    

When the fourteen years which Nature permits

Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,

And the vet's unspoken prescription runs

To lethal chambers or loaded guns,

Then you will find--it's your own affair--

But...you've given your heart for a dog to tear.

   

When the body that lived at your single will,

With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);

When the spirit that answered your every mood

Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,

You will discover how much you care,

And will give your heart for the dog to tear.

   

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,

When it comes to burying Christian clay.

Our loves are not given, but only lent,

At compound interest of cent per cent.

    

Though it is not always the case, I believe,

That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,

A short-time loan is as bad as a long--

So why in Heaven (before we are there)

Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

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~~o00o~~

  

Rainbow Bridge

(Anonymous)

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....

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