Kerry Loss Poems

Beau

by Jimmy Stewart, submitted by Tracey Fulmer


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.

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'd 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.

Heaven's Doggy Door

    Author Unknown
    Submitted by Maryanne Schaefer

    My best friend closed his eyes last night,
    As his head lay in my hand.
    The doctors said he was in pain,
    And it was hard for him to stand.
    The thoughts that scurried through my head,
    As I cradled him in my arms,
    Were of his younger kerry years,
    And Oh... his many charms.
    Today there was no gentle nudge,
    With an intense "I love you" gaze.
    Only a heart that's filled with tears,
    Remembering our joy-filled days.
    But an Angel just appeared to me,
    And said, "You should cry no more,
    God also loves our canine friends,
    He's installed a doggy door!"

 

A Kerry's Soul

Author Unknown
Submitted by Larry White

Every Kerry must have a soul, somewhere deep inside
Where all the hurts and grievances are buried with his pride
Where he decides the good and bad, the wrong from the right
And where his judgment carefully hidden from our sight.

A Kerry must have a secret place where every thought abides,
A sort of close acquaintance that he trusts and confides
And when accused unjustly, for himself he cannot speak,
Rebuked, he finds within his soul the comfort he must seek.

He will live tho'he is unloved and serve tho'badly used
And one kind word will wipe away the times when he's been abused
Altho his heart may break in two his love will still be whole
Because god gave to every Kerry an understanding soul.

 

Dinah in Heaven
The Woman in His Life

by Rudyard Kipling

She did not know that she was dead,
But, when the pang was o'er,
Sat down to wait her Master's tread
Upon the Golden Floor,

With ears full-cock and anxious eyes,
Impatiently resigned;
But ignorant that Paradise
Did not admit her kind.

Persons with Haloes, Harps, and Wings
Assembled and reproved;
Or talked to her of Heavenly things,
But Dinah never moved.

There was one step along the Stair
That led to Heaven's Gate;
And, till she heard it, her affair,
Was--she explained--to wait.

And she explained with flattened ear,
Bared lip and milky tooth --
Storming against Ithuriel's Spear
That only proved her truth!

Sudden--far down the Bridge of Ghosts
That anxious spirits clomb--
She caught that step in all the hosts,
And knew that he had come.

She left them wondering what to do,
But not a doubt had she.
Swifter than her own squeal she flew
Across the Glassy Sea;

Flushing the Cherubs everywhere,
And skidding as she ran,
She refuged under Peter's Chair
And waited for her man.

There spoke a Spirit out of the press,
Said: "Have you any here
That saved a fool from drunkeness,
And a coward from his fear?

"That turned a soul from dark to day
When other help was vain;
That snatched it from Wanhope and made
A cur a man again?"

"Enter and look," said Peter then,
And set The Gate ajar.
"If I know aught of women and men
I trow she is not far."

"Neither by virtue, speech nor art
Nor hope of grace to win;
But godless innocence of heart
That never heard of sin:

Neither by beauty nor belief
Nor white example shown.
Something a wanton--more a thief--
But--most of all--mine own."

"Enter and look," said Peter then,
"And send you well to speed;
But, for all that I know of women and men
Your riddle is hard to read."

Then flew Dinah from under the Chair,
Into his arms she flew--
And licked his face from chin to hair
And Peter passed them through!

 

The Power of the Dog

by Rudyard Kipling, submitted by Anne Corke

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie-- Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair-- But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long-- So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

A Member of the Family

Author unknown, submitted by Chelo Lewter

    What would I do without you?
    My precious, furry friend?
    Part mischief, but all blessings,
    And faithful to the end.

    You look at me with eyes of love,
    You never hold a grudge,
    You think I'm far too wonderful,
    To criticize or judge.

    It seems your greatest joy in life
    is being close to me...
    I think God knew how comforting
    your warm, soft fur would be.

    I know you think you're human,
    but I'm glad it isn't true...
    The world would be a nicer place
    if folks were more like you!

    A few short years are all we have,
    one day we'll have to part...
    But you my pet, will always have
    a place within my heart.

My Dog and His Love

Author unknown, submitted by Chelo Lewter

    He's with me 24 hours a day,
    And never a word is able to say,
    But he can say more with a look or two,
    Such as I Love You, My Whole World Is You!

    As I do my chores throughout the day,
    He's by my side, every step of the way.
    When I stop to eat, you can bet he's there,
    Sitting of course, in his favorite chair.

    And if some night I decide to go out,
    He'll hang his head, and kinda pout.
    He sits by the window, until I come home.
    Waiting for me; chewing on his bone.

    Sits there and waits so patiently,
    Hoping to catch a glimpse of me.
    Can't wait till I put the key in the door,
    He's barking and jumping and barking some more.

    Then as I lay me down to sleep,
    He's there by my side, his vigil to keep.
    And I thank the Lord, in the Heaven above,
    For My Best Friend, my dog and his love!