and any and all others who have had the heartbreak of losing or have had to put down a beloved pet.
Based on this thread;
http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=105x3913298Demo is most certainly having a tough time today. He has my sincerest, heartfelt condolences. During the Summer of '04 I watched my 9 year old Boston Terrier, Mr. BB (Beau Brummel) go downhill for months before i did what i had to do.....to end his suffering. When it became so obvious that he was a shell of his former playful, fun, curious, gregarious, loving self, i did what had to be done and i cried like a 4 year old on the way home from the vet. I have a huge lump in my throat right now just from typing this.
Demo, know you are not alone. The pain and anguish you feel is shared by the thousands of animal lovers here on DU.
Even though i don't know you personally, please understand that i feel for you today.
Cherish the memories and go ahead and cry. There is no shame in having deep feelings for an animal.
I like this poem by the late Jimmy Stewart. He actually read this on "The Tonight Show" after the book in which it was published came out and had Johnny Carson in tears. It is a wonderful sentiment.
Beau
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.
When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.
Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.
He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.
He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.
On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.
He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.
But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.
We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.
He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.
And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.
And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us, And I'd pat his head.
And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.
And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.
~ Jimmy Stewart ~
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
