It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to (Jack Mischief Biddle 10 December 1996 - 15 January 2010).He came to stay with Biggles last summer, bringing Emma and her then boyfriend (now husband), the lanky Methodist git who has been part of the CFZ since the year dot (2006 actually). He made friends with Biggles and singularly failed to teach him any of his tricks.
Now that Biggles is learning to roll over, he was looking forward to showing Jack his prowess, but sadly will now have to wait until they
eventually meet up in the great kennels in the sky.Cheers, pal...
Sing a happy song
'Cause Spring does not last long
A flower blooms and then it's gone
Summer follows fast
Make hay while it lasts
Don't ever dwell upon the past
For one day you are here, and the next you are gone
Every horse has its year and every dog its day, my son
So the only thing to feel sad about is
All the dogs and the horses you'll have to outlive
They'll be with you when you say good-bye
Then the Fall from grace
The lines upon your face
Grow deeper almost every day
Days and weeks roll by
And Winter nights draw nigh
And everything that lives must die
But as the curtains close and the last prayers are said
All my dogs and my horses appear round my bed
They have come to say one last goodbye
Goodbye...
Posts
3 comments:
My condolences on your loss, It is never easy and hurts as much as loosing a child.
Your young man will be waiting for you at the rainbow bridge to once again be reunited in love and friendship.
aww, poor jack.
Kipling caught the loss of a dog far better than anything I could have written ("The Power of the Dog")
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
But 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 that nature permits
Are closing in asthma or tumors or fits
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers, or loaded guns.
Then you will find--its your own affair
But--you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will
When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You still 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?
Post a Comment