A Tribute to Hairy Blackdog
(22 Nov. 1996)
When God was creating the world and all the creatures in it, He called the Dog Angel to His office one day.
"I need some input on this project," God said. "This is a very special dog I'm working on now, and I want to make sure it's perfect."
The Dog Angel studied God's plans carefully. "Oops, I see a problem right off the bat, God. Don't You remember that we were having some plumbing problems with this model? We just can't seem to get that leaky mouth fixed."
"That's OK," said God. "It's only a small flaw, amid so much good. And this dog is going to be so loveable that its people will only think the drippy lips are endearing."
"Yes, a lot of good," mused the Angel. "A nice thick furry coat..."
"Very necessary," put in God, "for soaking up tears."
"Mmmm, yes, but I see You have our standard Angel Silver in the specs. Don't You think another color would be more practical?"
"You may be right. How about black? Black is nice. It doesn't show the dirt."
"And this is the model that we were so pleased with, as far as the strength and stamina."
"Yes, that's one reason I wanted to use it. But, look, these are the most important qualities, the love, the courage, the willingness to use that strength for the good of its human family, even at the risk of its own life."
"And chck out all these other traits," God went on eagerly. "The trusting nature, the joy of living, the loyalty, the intelligence, the tolerance. It can even be clownish sometimes. Everyone needs a little humor now and then."
"But it's the love most of all, isn't it?" the Angel interrupted gently. "Big sturdy bones for strength, soft plush coat for comfort and protection, plumy waggy tail to let you know how happy he is to see you, a little bounce, a little sly humor. But without the love, it wouldn't be at all the same. That unconditional, unquestioning love that this model gives so unfailingly. Only You could have thought of that, God."
"Well," said God modestly, "that part did turn out pretty well, didn't it? And I think that's one of the biggest reasons that this dog is one of My favorites. God is Love, you know, so the dog that loves best should be the one I choose for My special project."
"But, God," the Angel placed his hand tenderly on God's shoulder, "don't You remember the one big flaw? It's the same problem we're having with all these plus-size models. We just can't make them live long enough. How will people ever stand to live with these dogs? How can they love them, and lose them too soon, over and over again? It will hurt too much. Nobody will want to bear the pain of loving and losing these dogs. This just won't be a very popular dog, God."
"No, I think you're wrong there," God said. "Remember, this is My dog. It's filled with My love and its mission is to spread that love around the world. And you know that God's love never dies. 'How can people stand to love these dogs?' I tell you, they won't be able to help loving them. And they'll lose them but keep on loving them, and go on to love another one, over and over again. Because the pain is only an instant in the eternity of their love, the love that comes straight from Me."
"You've convinced me, God," the Angel said quietly. "I'll start mass production right away. But I sure wish we could fix that leak."
"No, leave it as it is. I quite like it, Myself. You see," God smiled shyly, "sometimes I drool too."
for Hairy Blackdog Back at home with God, November 1996
by M. M. Brown
Is there a country, Lord, where thou does keep
A place reserved for dogs that fall asleep,
Large, airy kennels, yards for hiding bones,
A little river chattering over stones,
And wide, green fields for those that never knew
A smokey town, an old worn rug or two
Before a fire where sparks do not fly out?
Sparks are such nasty things to have about.
>
I like to think there is; and so I pray
For one young Newfoundland that died today.
He was so full of fun, not very wise,
The puppy-look still lingered in his eyes;
But he was very dear; he'd come to me
And rest his soft, black chin upon my knee.
>
Thou knowest him. One night not long ago
He tramped with me across the frozen snow;
And there beyond the wood, peaceful and still,
We met Thee walking on the moonlit hill.
Lord, keep him safe, wherever he may be;
And let him always have a thought for me,
That I may hear, when I pass through the dark,
Thy soothing voice, and then a friendly bark.
by Ogden Nash
O my little pup ten years ago
was arrogant and spry,
Her backbone was a bended bow
for arrows in her eye.
Her step was proud, her bark was loud,
her nose was in the sky,
But she was ten years younger then,
And so, by G-d was I.
Small birds on stilts along the beach
Rose up with piping cry.
And as they rose beyond her reach
I thought to see her fly.
If natural law refused her wings,
That law she would defy,
for she could do unheard of things,
And so, at times could I.
Ten years ago she split the air
to seize what she could spy;
Tonight she bumps against a chair,
betrayed by milky eye!
She seems to pant,
Time up, time up!
My little dog must die,
And lie in dust with Hector's pup;
So, presently must I.A Dog's Prayer By Beth Norman Harris Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me. Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do. Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear. When it is cold and wet, please take me inside...for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements...and I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth...though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land...for you are my god...and I am your devoted worshiper. Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger. And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest...and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
by: Rudyard Kipling
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 bit 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 passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for 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 for 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 for the 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-time 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?
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: they each miss someone very special, someone who was left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly, he breaks from the group, flying over the green grass, faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into those trusting eyes, so long gone from your life, but never absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...
*Author Unknown*