Only a Dog - A Tribute to
Love
People keep saying “he was
just a dog”.
He was the one who got up
with me every morning, no matter how early, to help me greet
the morning.
He was the one who stood
guard over our home, our family and the loneliness of my
days.
He was the one who acted as
the best alarm system around, letting us know when someone
or something was approaching outside the door.
He was the one who slept at
the door to the bedrooms, to make certain everyone was
safe.
He was the one who loved the
children. From the babies who would pull and tug at him and
use him as a brace for wobbly legs learning to crawl or
walk, to the older ones with whom he would sneak into their
bed at night and cuddle close.
He didn’t rest until
everyone was home safe and sound.
He was the explorer who
wandered through the bushes in the yard, hunting for lizards
or the scent of the woodland creatures that might happen
by.
He was the guardian who
would chase away those woodland creatures lest they harm one
of us.
He was the one who came to
lie on my feet or close to my chair at my desk, sensing the
times when I was in pain either emotional or physical.
He was the one who looked at
me with sparkling, happy eyes, a happy smile, a wagging
tail, who wanted nothing from me except a kind word and a
soft stroke of his head.
He was the one who never
asked for anything from anyone except to just be near.
He was the one who cleaned
up the crumbs from the babies or lived for that scrap of
leftover supper.
He was the one who staved
off the loneliness, the fear, the emptiness of a house whose
children had grown and moved away.
He was the one who looked at
me with guilty pleasure when they came to visit and let him
get on the furniture with him, knowing I would not fuss.
He was the one whose only
fear was the rolling thunder of a storm and who never wanted
me to know he was afraid, but who would sit close until the
storm was past, hoping for a reassuring pat or soft
word.
He was the one who greeted
me at the door when I returned from an errand, with a body
language that let me know he was happy I was home, happy to
be with me again, proud that he had done his job of guarding
our home while I was gone.
He was the one who lived
with his aging pain, not wanting to let go for fear of
leaving me alone, leaving his job as my protector, my
companion, my best friend.
He was the one who took one
last look into my eyes as his grew dim, looking to make sure
I was okay as his life slipped away, worried that he was
leaving me alone.
He was the one whose soft
hair I stroked and softly whispered to that he was going
home, that it was okay to let go, that I loved him enough to
send him home to God to wait for me at the Rainbow
Bridge.
He was the one whose grave
is close by so that he will always be near to the home and
the people he loved so unconditionally and protected with
such loyalty.
People say “he was only just
a dog”.
To those I say, look closer
and see the truth of who and what he truly was.
Bonnie
Snider
©2003
Thia lovely piece is Bonnie's tribute to her beloved
Shorty;
I had to send my beloved Shorty to the Rainbow Bridge a
few years ago. I still miss him so. He was a stray we found in
the parking lot of a store, covered in mange, practically a
skeleton. We took him home, got him the care he needed and
blessed our lives for the next 15 years.
It speaks to just how much he meant to me.
Bonnie, thank you so much for sharing this with me and
allowing my to share it with others.
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