In Memory of Angel the Pug Dog - 10-21-98 to 2-6-08

The Power of the Dog


By:
Joseph 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 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 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 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-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?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Angel couldn't share her life with us for a minute more than the days allotted to her. She couldn't even tarry to say goodbye. She seemed perfectly healthy until the moment she died. Wouldn't each of us like to pass in exactly that way when our days are finished.

She ran to the back of the motorhome, let out a little yelp, ran back to the front, yelped again, and never regained consciousness and, for all intents and purposes, was dead.

It was a tremendous shock to us but certainly better for Angel who might have suffered a painful lingering illness.

Angel had been known by many names during her time with us: Devil Dog, Fallen Angel, Oughta' be in a dogshow kinda' dog, Queen of the Princess Pugs, Anjo, jo jo, the Pillow Pug, and at those times each seemed like the perfect moniker for her.

Goodbye Angel, God Bless, and thank you for sharing your days with us.

We have a hole in our lives right now and poor Rowdy seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time sitting by the motorhome door as though waiting for her to come back.