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ONE BY ONE
(dedicated to all those that rescue)
One by one, they file past my cage
Too old, too worn, too broken, no way
Way past his time, he can't run and play
Then they shake their heads slowly and go
on their way
A little old man, arthritic and
sore
It seems I am not wanted anymore
I once had a home, I once had a bed
A place that was warm, and where I was fed
Now my muzzle is grey, and my eyes
slowly fail
Who wants a dog so old and so frail?
My family decided I didn't belong
I got in their way; my attitude was wrong
Whatever excuse they made in their
head
Can't justify how they left me for dead
Now I sit in this cage, where day after day
The younger dogs all get adopted away
When I had almost come to the end
of my rope
You saw my face, and I finally had hope
You saw through the grey and the legs bent with age
And felt that I still had life beyond this cage
You took me home, gave me food and
a bed
And shared your own pillow with my poor tired head
We snuggle and play and you talk to me low
You love me so dearly, you want me to know
I may have lived most of my life
with another
But you outshine them with a love so much stronger
And I promise to return all the love I can give
To you, my dear person, as long as I live
I may be with you for a week or for
years
We will share many smiles, you will no doubt shed tears
And when the time comes that God deems I must leave
I know you will cry and your heart it will grieve
And when I arrive at the Bridge all
brand new
My thoughts and my heart will still be with you
And I will brag to all that will hear
Of the person who made my last days oh, so dear
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IN
PRAISE OF BIG, OLD RED DOGS
By Louise Ure
Thinking of adopting a
Golden? I’ll let you in on a secret.
Big, old, red dogs are the best.
Oh, I know, you probably
think I sound biased and shallow.
Maybe their coloring matches my furniture.
Maybe their girth makes me look slim when we walk
together. Maybe
it just makes me feel good to have a partner whose age in dog
years equals my own. But
it’s more than that.
Look at their coats and
your mind wanders to names like Cinnamon, Cognac, Cayenne and
Sedona. Heady,
fragrant, lush names. But
look in their eyes and they become Murphy or Angel or Good
Boy. They are
dogs with hearts as big as dinner bowls.
Seeing a big, old, red dog
rediscover tennis balls on a sunny day in a grassy, green park
will make tou believe in love again.
And having that soft, heavy head lay against your thigh
will make you believe in God.
Give me an old dog any
day. A dog
who’s walking pace doesn’t put me to shame.
Who is grateful for every sunrise.
And who is old enough not to tolerate fools, but
doesn’t mind fooling around just the same.
There’s rarely any house training to be done, and the
bad habits to be broken work both ways.
Can an old dog learn new
tricks? I know they can. A
new command, a new skill, a new attitude.
Maybe there’s hope for me as well.
Someday I’ll tell you
the story of our two big, old, red dogs: Shelby and Angus.
Shelby who arrived broken and unbowed and taught us how
to be young again. And
Angus, our 8 ½ year-old new arrival, with a lop-sided face
like a tragedy-comedy mask and the heart of a lion.
But today I’ll just sing
the praises of all big, old, red dogs.
They are home entertainment centers you don’t have to
plug in.
(Reprinted with permission
of the author and Norcal Golden Retriever Rescue)
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