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Tyke and Shiloh in his Summer Coat |
For all my dogs gone before
I love you each as much
as all the days we did
explore
with all about us ever
changing
but still the constant love
remaining.
For Timmy 1, Timmy 2 and 3
for our sorrowful loss
as each of you went
suddenly,
Then through the tears
I played with Chips
and the little stray we
called Lick-Lick.
Finally, my brother and I bought
a one dollar pup,
a loyal hero called Cobber,
he totally bonded with my
Dad
and that is the best life our
dog could have.
So there were Fox Terriers and
the Border Collie,
and later in my family
a friendly Sheltie pedigree.
Tyke lived a long and
traumatic life,
with all that hair in the
hot north west
,
the bull-ants nest,
then stung by a swarm of
bees,
stolen in a capital city, so
lost for three long weeks.
Finally found by nurses, near
a railway line
and thankfully nurtured back
to health,
the inquisitive Shetland Sheepdog
with his active life
after all the trials he’d
seen
he lived until he was
sixteen.
I would always seek to pat a
‘Wally’
as I dwelled in rental
property
where no pet dogs lived with
me.
Then I went to reside in the
countryside.
I adopted Shiloh
the Afghan Hound,
who came when he was nine
sharing gentle years until
he died.
Then I was adopting dogs who
needed care
and I was willing to share
my heart with each of them
until the breeding greyhound
found me
and we were happy as can be
but she, was only lent to me.
There is a story with
enormous spirit
and one day I will bring you
to it…
with those tears I have
cried
there is always Simba by my
side
and the Angus steers that
were
running with her
but they could not keep up
the pace
as she took off on a rabbit
chase.
Then joy and sorrow so
intense
the grief I still feel today
very deep inside my cells
the saddest story I could
tell.
The steers were there on the
next day
when I walked back down the bush
track
carrying flowers for her,
and sobbing loudly in my
grief
until the steers came to the
fence
and walked along all the way
until we came to the grassy
spot
where I stood there
and they held their heads
over the fence
and leant to me, big bulls
indeed,
they very clearly felt my
need.
Later I adopted a young
retired greyhound
who had led a stressful life
and she settled quietly with
me
and I simply called her
Lovely.
For every friend I loved and
lost
I planted flowers and
shrubbery,
I created dog tag jewelry,
With all the farewell
partings
still some sadness deeply
dwells
weeping, weeping, fills the
wells.
Eventually I bought a
smaller breed,
a little greyhound without
fear
of fireworks or thunderstorms
and she became my longtime
friend
with a most remarkable bond
so deeply loving and further along.
You will notice my writings
for her
on many pages since
September,
my dearest friend I will
remember.
With all my dogs I have
always loved,
there have been signs that
drew me to them
and the love has always been
to the deepest heart, and the warmest spirit
and the unconditional love
within it.
I have included Simba's Story here on Come Blossom Come Fruit, it is the previous post called Sometimes The End Comes At The Beginning. I wrote it the day after todays post!
So sometimes the detail leads the story outline.
These sharings have been healing for me, and helped me take a deep breath of life again.
I am always mindful of the healing presence of companion animals and I have deepest gratitude for all their times in my life, and thankfully for their play and the humour they bring to our days.