The Parallel

They say there’s a parallel
Between man and canines.
To tell you the truth,
That suits me just fine!
Canines are pack animals,
They have their pack order,
Which sometimes seems very cruel to us.
---- But then, we have the rich, the poor
and the homeless.
Canines have litters,
Some large, some small.
They love their young and can
Count them all.
If one is lost, they grieve that puppy!
‘Course there are those exceptions
who kill their young.
--- But then, do you watch the news
On channel one?
When a canine is sick
And you hold his pills,
More times than not,
It’s the same for your ills.
Any breeder can tell you,
A stud dog’s in heaven
When the bitches they bring him
Number close to eleven!
Not so for man, you try to elate!
--- But when’s the last time you
Checked the divorce rate?
The parallel is there
Tho, we chose to be blind.
How can WE compare
To those “stupid” canines?
Man is the “Master” superior to dogs!
Why, we all know, they can’t even talk!
Yet -- who feeds them and loves them
And takes them for walks?
Who’s devastated when they die?
Who cries the tears and questions “why?”
Who depends on whom for companionship?
Who shares with who emotions deep,
Our precious secrets they even keep!
But when it comes to love
The parallel stops.
Theirs is free, ours is not.
So --- from these “dumb” canines
We should take some lessons.
It’s true, not all humans or canines
Are granted a great life.
Both species are subject to toils and strife.
But the parallel, you see, is heaven sent,
If the man-dog relation is well spent.
So to end this verse,
Let me make it quite clear --
To God, I give thanks for all that is mine --
And that, my friend, includes
My “stupid “ canines!
 Kathy Henderson  1998

Loving Hands

When I was born I could not see
The human hands that guided me
Into this world so cold and frail.
For days those hands were all I felt,
My eyes still sealed since I was whelped.
Gentle as my mothers touch
Those hands that loved me, oh, so much!
As I grew those hands were there
Tending to my every care.
Not one time did they ever strike me,
No matter what I did with glee.
More times than not they held me close
And stroked my head and fur.
I’ll tell you true if a cat I’d been
Quite loudly I would purr.
An adult I am now and still so blessed.
Those loving hands still hold me tight,
I love them so with all my might!
I keep them close inside my heart,
They’ve been with me since my life’s start.
No fears have I about my fate,
For my loving hands keep my life great!
Now loving hands must comfort me,
For again those hands I cannot see.
They stroke my head; they stroke my fur,
But my whines of pain don’t sound like purrs.
Hands that helped me into this world,
Must now let go of their precious girl.
Now its time, my fate I see,
Those loving hands take hold of me,
Hold me close and shaking a little
Watching the vet prepare the needle.
I will be missed, of that I’m certain,
As they close the final curtain.
But as my heart stops, hold no regrets.
For those loving hands I’m taking with me,
Those hands full of love I cannot see.
Kathy Henderson  1998

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