He’s Just Crooked!!

He was the runt of the litter, his Moma had four.
A Pom was his breed and they seldom have more.
His Moma a “spinner” when she got excited,
She spun once to often and this boy she slighted.
She damaged the body that he had to live in,
Four weeks into life this baby was then.
We didn’t know his body was broken,
Not really sick, just not any motion.
Even the vets didn’t find what was wrong,
He’ll probably live, we’ll know before long.
And live he did but as he grew we could see
His body grow crooked and so tiny was he.
He didn’t know he had anything wrong
For he’d challenge the others, twice as big, twice as strong!
Perfectly healthy, normal in every way but one,
His back made a “C” when his growth was all done.
He didn’t really take much special care.
He had his own playpen and he loved it there.
His safety came first for his balance was bad,
The floor not safe, more injuries he might have.
He could be down if you supervised
And then you could see the devil in his eyes!
I swear he would grin and then he’d take off,
“Catch me if you can”, he seemed to scoff!
Oh yes, he could run!  He proved that each day.
Just had trouble maneuvering round things in his way.
He loved to be held, to snuggle and cuddle,
So much love in his heart, your mind it would muddle.
I shudder to think of what I’d have missed
If to others I’d listened, destroy him, they hissed.
“He’s just crooked!!” I’d say, then close my ears
to their awful tales and their many fears.
He’s no longer with us, my baby’s gone home,
This little crooked dog that was just mine on loan.
I can’t help but smile when I think of my little man,
Darting between angels playing “catch me if you can!”
- for you Tigger –
Kathy Henderson 1998

 

I Walk Alone

We’ve walked a special walk
down life’s rocky road.
We’ve had special talks,
to you many secrets I have told.
We’ve shared all we had to share,
no better friend could I have had.
You never needed explanations,
my moods you knew from sad to glad.
With you there, I was never alone,
I’ll always remember your “welcome homes”.
I look at the path that we used to walk,
where sometimes we’d stop to just sit and talk.
For hours we’d sit and you’d just listen,
so still by my side as I told of my day.
So patient you were as I babbled on
and I knew you preferred to go run and play.
As I look down the path we used to walk,
I see you there where we sat and talked.
Even your pawprint preserved in the earth,
there to remind me of your hearts worth.
Never again will I have such a friend
and I wonder inside will my heart ever mend?
Words lost now for the pains so deep, so well honed.
To walk lifes path now means, I walk alone.
Kathy Henderson 1998

 

Silent Language

We look into a dogs eyes
and its their soul we see.
They talk to us without a sound
for from sin their souls are free.
We see their love and trust in us
as they watch our every move.
We see the fear of punishment
when anger is our mood.
Their silent language we all know,
no doubt is in our minds.
The body language says a lot
but to their eyes we can’t be blind.
Like children they tell us they feel bad
tho not a sound is made.
Two anxious eyes bore holes in us
when food is on our plates.
All these things we all know
without a single doubt.
Those happy eyes when we come home,
those eyes that want to shout!
Silent language they possess
is of the purest kind.
Such love and trust and faithfulness
in humans we won’t find.
And when we sit our heads hung low
in torment, filled with anguish,
two eyes are there to offer help
if we but hear their silent language.
Kathy Henderson

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