For All My Dogs Gone Before

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.