When she was merely a puppy we found her
Left out on a back street to roam
We carefully nursed her to gain back her health
And at last she had found a good home
Australian Shepherd was seen in her eyes
One hazel, the other one gray
And when she was wagging that stump of a tail,
Then most of her body would sway.
For fifteen good years she has shown us much love
And loyalty straight from her heart
It grieves me to know the time will come soon
When from her we'll be forced to part.
Cataracts have managed her vision to dim
And her muzzle is nearly all white
Her pace is unsteady, and often she falls
But for life she continues to fight
She struggles so hard now to get on her feet
And opts to lie down when she's fed.
But she pauses to lick the hand reaching out
To caress her now feeble old head.
She laboriously staggers to come to my side
Then nudges me making it clear
She's trying to tell me that I should reach down
And scratch behind both of her ears.
We watched her tired body grow weaker and saw
Her failure to stand on her feet
Though bravely she struggled, her time had run out
Her weak heart had now ceased to beat
Then unashamed tears will be shed when I call
Out her name as I look everywhere
Only then to remember what I had forgotten
That nevermore would she be there.
It's times such as this that are toughest to bear
These are moments I hardly can stand
To reach out to where she would normally lie,
And know she'd no more lick my hand
Shelby M. Forrest
"Please, that one in the second cage,
with the german shepherd look!"
The attendant riffled pages,
and he found him in his book.
"It says that he's half kelpie
and he called Carina home,
And that his name is Luke,
and that he sometimes likes to roam."
"Here, boy!" I called, and here he came,
and without hesitation
His tail a hairy question mark;
would he improve his station?
I hope I did, in our short time,
improve his life as he has mine.
I've seldom known so loyal a friend,
nor dreamed of how soon it would end.
He's sure done all those doggy things
that dogs are famous for.
He's barked at all & sundry
and shed hair on every floor.
He's barked at trucks with flapping tarps
and kids on minibikes.
and howled in unison with Spook
to tell of their dislikes...
Of the sirens of the ambulance
or wailing police cars
In hot pursuit of motorists
caught in covert radars.
Now suddenly I come aware
that he's well past his prime.
The years have all been stolen
by the furtive thief of time.
At first it's hardly noticed,
no real drama at first sight,
Just a restless movement in the dark,
a whimper in the night...
He thinks that I'm all knowing,
he believes that I'm all wise,
And he thinks that I can fix it;
I can see it in his eyes.
But now it looks like it's the end,
it seems no cure is known.
A defect in the hip socket
to which his breed is prone.
The computer screen is shimmering,
like looking through a fog,
As I write to tell the story
of my lovely long-eared dog.
I lift him up into the car,
his leap has long since gone,
Would he be quite so happy,
if he knew the road we're on?
I'm waiting for the vet to open,
crying like a child.
"Would you come this way to see the vet?"
The lady in white smiled.
The leg is shaved and sterilized,
one might well wonder why!
The syringe at last is empty,
and I bid my friend goodbye.
I hold him tight and talk to him,
"sleep now, my dear old friend".
And cradled in my arms he sleeps;
and we have reached the end.
And still, down by the fence he sleeps,
beneath the shady trees.
Where the wild birds chatter from the branches,
swaying in the breeze.
And high above him, after dark,
the southern cross burns bright,
And there'll be no more pain or hurt...
No whimper in the night.
Frank Halliwell