Ode To A Westie | Devotion | Lend Me A Pup |
The Dog | A Dog's Cold Nose | Creation |
Do I Go Home Today | God's Creation | Lament of a Stud |
I will lend to you for awhile
a puppy, God said,
For you to love him while he lives
and to mourn for him when he is gone.
Maybe for twelve or fourteen years,
or maybe for two or three.
But will you, till I call him back
take care of him for me ?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you
and (should his stay be brief)
you'll always have his memories
as solace for your grief .
I cannot promise that he will stay,
since all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught below
I want this pup to learn.
I've looked the whole world over
in search of teachers true
And from the folk that crowd life's land
I have chosen you.
Now will you give him all your love
Nor think the labour vain
Nor hate me when I come to take my pup back again.
I fancied that I heard them say
"Dear Lord Thy WIll Be Done,"
For all the joys this pup will bring,
the risk of grief you'll run.
Will you shelter him with tenderness
Will you love him while you may
And for the happiness you'll know forever grateful stay.
But should I call him back
much sooner than you've planned
Please brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand.
If, by your love, you've managed
my wishes to achieve,
In memory of him that you've loved,
cherish every moment with your faithful bundle,
and know he loved you too.
Author Unknown
Ogden Nash
When Noah, perceiving �twas time to embark,
Persuaded the creatures to enter the Ark,
The dog, with a friendliness truly sublime,
Assisted in herding them. Two at a time
He drove in the elephants, zebras and gnus
Until they were packed like a boxful of screws,
The cat in the cupboard, the mouse on the shelf,
The bug in the crack; then he backed in himself.
But such was the lack of available space
He couldn�t tuck all of him into the place;
So after the waters had flooded the plain
And down from the heavens fell blankets of rain
He stood with his muzzle thrust out through the door
The whole forty days of that terrible pour!
Because of which drenching, zoologists hold,
The nose of a healthy dog always is cold.
Arthur Guiterman
The children loved to feed me; they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say!
These are the things I'll not forget - a cherished memory.
I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old one and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rug, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said I was out of control and would have to live outside.
This I didn't understand, although I tried and tried!
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't the time.
I wish that I could change things; I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely in the backyard, on a chain.
I barked and barked all day long to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, and then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some training as a little pup.
I wouldn't have been so hard to handle when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left", I heard a worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance?
Do I go home today?
It�s not my job to carry pups,
And make �em grow and nurse �em.
And feed and clean and make �em strong,
That�s for �Mother� and a person.
It�s not my job to wean,
And feed calcium and food,
And stack and gait and housebreak,
And make �em a showing brood.
It�s not my job to plan a breeding,
And learn what produces well.
To study pedigrees, learn what�s there,
And pick out those to sell.
It�s not my job to guarantee champs;
The breeder picks the pair
To mate and whelp and feed and show
And hope that Champion is there.
It�s not my job to be on hand
When points are given out.
The breeder, owner, dam and friends
Take credit with a shout.
It�s not my job to deliver a winner,
It�s only genes I sell,
But let those puppies turn out bad
And guess who catches HELL?
Unknown