Memories

When my sweet Bentley died, I was overcome with sadness. A short time later I found this in an issue of Best Friends Magazine. It helped me then and I have sent copies of it to several friends who lost their dogs.

Again

by Grace Clement

A fat little puppy sits in a pen.

He's looking at you.
You're looking at him.
You reach down and pick him up.
He sure is a cute little pup.

He licks your face with his little pink tongue.
Oh what the heck, you'll take this one.
You have no idea, no way to know,
How deep this bond would someday grow.

A tired old dog lies on the floor.
His body is weak; he can't rise anymore.
You look in his eyes. There is absolute trust.
You pick up the phone and do what you must.

Then you lie down beside your tired old friend.
Think of the years and don't want it to end.
With tears in your eyes, you stroke his beautiful head.
You know that never again will he sleep by your bed.

For fourteen years, you have shared so much love.
It's now time to send him to Heaven above.
You lie there with your old dog on the floor,
and silently wait for the knock on the door.

The vet comes in, his face full of compassion.
He gives you a moment, he knows it's your last one.
It takes only a minute: it's a gentle painless way.
In a moment like this, there is nothing to say.

There is one more thing that can help you get by.
To ease the pain and help the tears dry.
You never want to go through such pain again.
But you find yourself looking for a new little friend.

A fat little puppy sits in a pen.
He's looking at you.
You're looking at him.
You remember the love; you remember the laughter.
And just for a moment the pain doesn't matter.
As you reach down into the pen,
There is no doubt it's worth doing again.
It will take some time, but now you know
How deep a love can someday grow.

Our Lucy is not doing well. Last week she was eating well and running around the yard. The night before last she developed diarrhea and stopped eating. She is still not eating, is unsteady on her feet and has a detached, haunted look about her eyes. We had been warned that this was the way her disease would progress. We've been expecting it, but that doesn't make it any easier. The next 24 hours will be critical.
It's a time for memories.