Here in this House ….

Here in this House….

I will never know the loneliness I hear in the barks of the other dogs ‘out there’.

I can sleep soundly, assured that when I wake my world will not have changed.

I will never know hunger, or the fear of not knowing if I’ll eat.

I will not shiver in the cold, or grow weary from the heat.

I will feel the sun’s heat, and the rain’s coolness,

and be allowed to smell all that can reach my nose.

My fur will shine, and never be dirty or matted.

Here in this house…

There will be an effort to communicate with me on my level.

I will be talked to and, even if I don’t understand,

I can enjoy the warmth of the words.

I will be given a name so that I may know who I am among many.

My name will be used in joy, and I will love the sound of it!

Here in this house…

I will never be a substitute for anything I am not.

I will never be used to improve peoples’ images of themselves.

I will be loved because I am who I am, not someone’s idea of who I should be.

I will never suffer for someone’s anger, impatience, or stupidity.

I will be taught all the things I need to know to be loved by all.

If I do not learn my lessons well, they will look to my teacher for blame.

Here in this house…

I can trust arms that hold, hands that touch…

knowing that, no matter what they do, they do it for the good of me;

If I am ill, I will be doctored.

If scared, I will be calmed.

If sad, I will be cheered.

No matter what I look like, I will be considered beautiful and thought to be of value.

I will never be cast out because I am too old, too ill, too unruly, or not cute enough.

My life is a responsibility, and not an afterthought.

I will learn that humans can almost, sometimes, be as kind and as fair as dogs.

Here in this house…

I will belong.

I will be home.

— Author unknown

The Life of a Puppy

I woke up this morning & kissed my dad’s head.
I peed on the carpet, then went back to bed.
“The life of a puppy, oh my, this is great.”
Then I thought about breakfast,” I hope it’s not late.”

Mom took me outside, we walked for a while.
This never fails to make Mama smile.
I sniffed of everything, that we did pass,
I ate something weird – it gave me gas.

That obedience book, was sort of yummy.
Though it didn’t sit well on my poor puppy tummy.
I threw up a bit, but that was all right,
When Mom found it later, I was well out of sight.

I made streamers of T. P., while running at full speed.
Mom is pretty quick — but I was still in the lead.
I flew under the bed, and Mom flew past,
She stopped-shook her head, and breathed,
“You’re too fast.”

When Mama had enough, couldn’t take anymore,
That’s when my tushy got shoved out the door.
I love it inside, but outside is best.
Lay in the cool grass, and had a good rest.

That didn’t last long, there was too much to do–
Can’t quite remember where I hid Daddy’s shoe.
I found an old bone, and scratched at a flea,
I watched the dumb squirrels as they jumped in a tree.

I barked at the kids, when they got off the bus.
I can’t figure out why this makes Mama fuss.
I barked at the neighbor, I barked at the wind.
I barked and barked, till Mom yelled, “COME IN.”

The sun dipped in the west-soon Daddy would come!
I sure love my daddy: we always have fun.
I barked at my daddy, then turned on my charms,
I woo-wooed, “Hello,” then jumped in his arms.

Sitting under the table — it’s sooo hard to wait.
Daddy slipped me a goodie right off his plate.
I raced through the house, and scattered my toys,
Ricocheted off the furniture, and made lots of noise.

Mom found her purse – the one I abused.
Daddy let loose a chuckle. Mom asked “Amused??”
I cowered down low, I must be in trouble.
Dad said, “Wasn’t MY boy, it must be his double!”

Mom turned off the TV, and said, “Time for bed.”
Dad said “Let’s go boy,” and patted my head.
I got in my spot, between Mom and Dad,
I thought ’bout my day and the fun that I had.

Mama kicked out my bone from the covers below,
Then let loose a sigh — a sigh deep and low.
She gave me a kiss, and snuggled me tight,
And whispered so softly, ‘My darling goodnight’.

Unknown

 

A Good Dog Never Dies

A good dog never dies. Instead, she walks beside me on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter’s on the way.

The memories now, like her head once held within my hands; offer the warm glow of her old ways and remind me of the happy days.

~ Michael Albee – Copyright 2011 ~