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A TALE FOR A BREEDER
I love my little puppy, he makes my
house a home, he always is my best friend, I never feel alone. He makes me
smile, he makes me laugh, he fills my heart with love. Did some breeder
breed him? Was he sent from heaven above?
I've never been a breeder, or seen life
through their eyes. I hold my little puppy, just sit and criticize. I've
never know their anguish, I've never felt their pain, the caring of their charges, through snow or wind or rain. I've never waited all night long for
puppies to be born, the stress and trepidation when they're still not there
by dawn...
I've never felt the heartache of a little life in my hands, a darling little
puppy who weighs just a few grams!! Should you do this instead of that? Or
just pray to God? Alone you fight, and hope one day he'll grow into a dog,
bring joy to another being and make a house a home. You know it's all just
up to you, you fight this fight alone.
Formula, bottles, heating pads, you've
got to get this right. Two hourly feeds for this little mite throughout the
day and night.
In your heart you know it, you'll surely lose the fight to save this little
baby, but God willing, you just might save the little mite....
Day one he's in there fighting. You say
a silent prayer. Day two and three he's doing well, with lots of loving
care.
Day four and five - he's still alive your hopes soar to the heavens! Day six
he slips away again, dies in your hands day seven.
You take this little angel and bury him
alone, with aching heart and burning tears, (and an exhausted groan).
You ask yourself, Why do this? Why suffer all the pain? But seeing the joy that
puppies bring - it really self explains! So, when you think of breeders and
label them with 'greed'. Think what they sometimes endure to fill another's need.
And when you buy a puppy, with dollars and cents you part. You only pay with
money ...
We pay with our hearts.
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Death Is Nothing At
All
I have only slipped away
into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way you used
to.
Put no difference in your tone, wear no false air of solemnity or
sorrow.
Laugh as we always
laughed at the
little jokes we enjoyed together. Let my name be ever the household name
it ever was, let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was: there
is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for
an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
"All is well."
Henry Scott Holland
1847-1918 |
