The death of a beloved pet is traumatic. Only those who have suffered such a loss can truly know the heartache and pain it produces. Over the years I have tried to put into words the feelings in my heart when I am forced to say that last goodbye. I dedicate this page to Sasha, my cocker spaniel who died in 1986, Digger (right), the lovingest, most mellow rottie you could ever meet ... I had to have him put to sleep in 1990 when he was diagnosed with cancer of the lymphatic system, Reba who had bone cancer and passed away in 1996 and last, but by no means least, Chewy, my baby boy, who died June 30, 2001.

A word of warning, if you are an animal lover like me who has lost a pet, you might want to fetch some tissues before you read any further.

... The saddest sound in the universe... is the last heartbeat ...


Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you...
I loved you so -----
'twas Heaven here with you.

Isla Paschal Richardson

What Do You Do When A Good Friend Dies?

What do you do when a good friend dies?
Do you lash out in anger and curse at the sky.
Or grasp hard denial, the means of the weak,
In an effort to kindle the comfort you seek.
What do you do when a good friend dies?
Once life's breath, so precious, gives the chest final rise.
In haste you take blame, no other at fault,
You kneel upturned earth and deem all happiness to halt.
What do you do when a good friend dies?
When with him the times, both good and bad, lie.
Do you cast aside the past, for memories hurt much too much,
Or struggle and fight for that last lingering touch.
What do you do when a good friend dies?
When all of the tears have all but been cried.
No matter how much, no matter how hard you try,
The only thing to do is say farewell.
Goodbye.

Copyright �1996, Marc-David Cohn


Pushkin

In a cage at the uptown ASPCA
he left his musky scent on my hands,
and locked his yellow-green eyes
on those of a woman in a blue smock
who said he was strange, and when I took
him downtown on the Second Avenue bus
he forced his head through the cardboard box
and looked like a just-hatched bird
making everyone laugh, and when I first
offered him food he ate growling
under his breath, and from the beginning
he came running to me when I said
his new name Pushkin, as if he knew
he had the spirit of the dead poet within him.
And I have always loved
how dense and black his top coat is,
how white fur hikes up his front legs
like thick storm boots, how he still
has not grown into his huge paws,
how in cold weather he naps on
my flannel nightgowns, or lies across
vents of the radiator so that only he
feels the heat, and in warm weather
fills my small bathtub with his long body,
and when he doesn't like his food
he scrapes his paws across the kitchen walls,
and as he gets older his white stomach falls
like a loose purse between his legs.
When he is sleeping an old soul's smile
forms on his mouth, and each morning
at 6:45 he stands over me pushing his face
against my ear and he is always stalking
shadows at the door when I come home,
and when I write he sits in the middle
of my lined papers and rubs his black
and white face against my pen,
and on sad days when I feel stuck inside
I can not resist him,
and I let him be my poem.

Copyright �1994 Penny Cagan


For Cleo

My heart is in the frost, little one, for thou hast left me,
and gone to the land where walks already thy mother and all thy kin.
Thou hast left me alone to mourn thee, my little girl,
and I will not be comforted.

Six short years thou dwelt with me, and I loved thee always,
I knew no other like unto thee - forever will thy place be empty.
Forever wilt thy presence be missed, and always will there be sadness
when thoughts of our loss do come.

I have seen thee, my little one, in a dream;
Thou wast in a place I knew not; a field, with golden grass -
Thou looked at me, thy eyes bright, thy face happy, but asking
"Why dost thou not follow me?"
Thou disappeared into the grass, and I have seen thee not again.

Forgive me, little one, for thy last hours, that I was not there -
Forgive me that you met death in the arms of strangers.
That grieveth me so I cannot tell thee, but I could not do otherwise -
Know that had I believed you that close I would have been with thee.

Thou wast with me during the times that tried heart and soul,
but thou didst not live to see the sun rise upon us.
Would that you could be with us now that the tide has finally turned!
I miss thee with each day, and look to your haunts, and hope to find you.

Old age will finally dim both sight and mind,
but memory of thee will last throughout -
I pray God of His infinite mercies to let me see you again
when it is my turn to cross the border.

Oh, how I hope that thou woke to find thyself with the Maker!
I hope that now He rubs your soft ears as I used to do!
I pray that one day we shall be together again
If it is His will.

Then know, my beloved, that truly thou wilt not be forgotten -
Truly, you live on in heart and mind.
Thy tiny body wilt be buried in the plot where we shall one day rest
In the hope that on a brighter day we will all be together again forever.

[email protected]


Pets

I saw Mopsy and Lucy last night,
they died earlier this year. They
were healthier than I had last remembered,
their black fur unmatted, their tails in furious
swishes, their paws scratching at my legs. Jason the
Russian Blue sauntered out then, ignoring the dogs he'd
never met, offered his courtly head for a rub, his limbs
no longer arthritic. Mopsy and Lucy distracted themselves
into one of their infamous growl-yip playfights, leaving room
for Pity, the mysterious white cat from Jason's era, to pass by
to the kitchen. Vickie the beagle, a real old-timer, galloped in
next, her eyes afire like she'd seen a rabbit, running towards me
the way she used to tease us at the bus stop. Jason tapped her nose
with a paw and she veered off under the library table. A good
thing, too, for Bub the Great Pyrenees, the great white dog
who had to stay outside on a run most of his life, rumbled
in, his old pal Gabby Whiskers the miniature schnauzer
nipping at his heels like always. They disappeared
into the hallway. Finally, Butters, the butter-
colored tabby, jumped up on a nearby chair and
lovingly butted my head with his. It was so
good to see him spry and limber, his leg no
longer broken and twisted from that unseen
car, his eyes squinted in the pleasure of
touch, not the agony of evisceration.
I rubbed his back and felt it arch
and then he leapt away and went
off on some mission behind the
sofa. And before the petless
room winked out, I knew that
all my old friends, so new
and perfectly-remembered
here, were no longer
dead, but only
hiding.

[email protected] (Kevin Denelsbeck)


The Power of the Dog

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Rudyard Kipling

I know your heavy heart is sad,
within your eye a bitter tear.
As you remember all you had
with one you once had held so dear.

This too shall pass, the Proverbs say,
and that old sun will shine again.
Before you know, there'll come a day
when you can smile and tears will end.

I know it hurts right now,
but just hang on.
With time, the day will come
the pain is gone.
If you let it hold you down,
you'll never last.
If you just hang on a while,
the pain will pass.

I know you're feelin' all you've lost,
but just remember all you've gained.
And as your heart is torn and tossed,
a little time will ease the pain.

I know you're feelin' all alone.
The footprints stopped upon the sand.
Remember there is always one
who will be there to lend a hand.

I know it hurts right now,
but just hang on.
With time, the day will come
the pain is gone.
If you let it keep you down,
you'll never last.
If you just hang on a while,
the pain will pass.

Copyright �1994 William E. (Ed) Miller 05-23


IF I SHOULD GROW FRAIL

If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain does keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done
for this - the last battle - can't be won.

You will be sad I understand
But don't let grief then stay your hand.
For on this day, more than the rest
Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.

Take me to where my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end.
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.

I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.

Don't grieve that it must now be you
Who has to decide this thing to do.
We've been so close - we two -these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

(author unknown)

If you don't feel that you've had a good enough cry, visit the Rainbow Bridge Tribute Pages. Most of the poems you've read here are on this site but there are many more. This is a must see site. Be patient it is very large ... but it is worth the wait. *sniffle*

I am proud to announce that the Kennels, and related pages, have been awarded the Billie and Shadow Tailwagging Site of the Week Award.

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