[LibKill]

I'm really sorry about your dog. Get a puppy immediately.

What with housetraining and all the little pooch will keep you too busy to be depressed.

And, keep it inside. Damn coyotes are brazen nowadays.

[Museum Twenty]

I am so very sorry for you. He will be waiting for you when you make that trip, many years from now. As you will never forget Oscar, he will never forget you. May God bless.

[MissAmericanPie]

I'm so sorry to hear about your loss. Coyotes are getting pretty brazen in intruding, I worry about small children.

[Fighter@heart]

"Beau"
by Jimmy Stewart

"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.

Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
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 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."

(I saw Jimmy Stewart read this poem to Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show. Both of them were crying, and I was too.)

[Moleman]

Thank you all so much for your kind words

[Chemnitz]

Poems of Animals
Rudyard Kipling

The Power of the Dog

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I beg 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 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,
When 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 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?
http://www.petportraits.org/pet_portraits_poems_of_animals.htm

[wewillnotfail]

Our most sincere sympathy. We have known and loved 27
dogs which have passed. I know the grief you feel. The
bitter wonder of what if. We fail our friends sometimes,
but when our friends are dogs, there is no doubt of forgiveness. Just remember, all dogs go to heaven.

[ru4liberty]

Moleman, my heart goes out to you. I can't imagine the heartache of losing a dog in that way.

Yorkies are wonderful little dogs! Case in point:

I hope you will give another one a good home -- when your heart is ready, of course.

[potlatch]

My heart goes out to you, I know how it feels.

[kaylar]

THE CURATE THINKS YOU HAVE NO SOUL

The curate thinks you have no soul;
I know that he has none. But you,
Dear friend, whose solemn self-control,
In our foursquare familiar pew,
Was pattern to my youth -- whose bark
Called me in summer dawns to rove --
Have you gone down into the dark
Where none is welcome -- none may love?
I will not think those good brown eyes
Have spent their life of truth so soon;
But in some canine paradise
Your wraith, I know, rebukes the moon,
And quarters every plain and hill,
Seeking his master... As for me,
This prayer at least the gods fulfill;
That when I pass the flood and see
Old Charon by the Stygian coast
Take toll of all the shades who land,
Your little, faithful, barking ghost
May leap to lick my phantom hand.

-St John Lucas
English novelist (1879 - 1934)

[BibChr]

Oh, dang that would make me angry, and sad. Sorry to hear of it. Time for a little shooting practice... for therapeutic reasons? Check your local ordinances... then check your ordnance!

Dan

[tet68]

Sorry friend. Perhaps this will help.

Senator Vest's Tribute to the dog.

It is strange how tenaciously popular memory clings to the bits of eloquence men have uttered, long after their deeds and most of their recorded thoughts are forgotten, or but indifferently remembered.
Wherever and as long as the name of the late Senator Vest of Missouri is mentioned, it will always be associated with the beautiful tribute he once uttered in praise of man's most faithful companion.

Many years ago Senator Vest represented in a law-suit a plainiff whose dog had been wantonly shot by a neighbor.
Damages of $200 were asked, but after two minutes' deliberation the jury awarded the plaintff $500, as the result of the following words by his attorney:

"Gentlemen of the jury: The best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy.
His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful.
Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their faith.
The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him perhaps when he needs it the most.
A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action.
The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malace when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.
The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.

"Gentlemen of the jury, a man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness.
He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side.
He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world.
He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince.
When all other friends desert he remains.
When riches take wing and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful Dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him to guard against danger, to fight against his enemies, and when the last scene of all comes, and death takes the master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his grave-side will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad,but open in alert watchfulness, faithful And true even to death.

[Terriergal]

Lemme at them coyotes.... man that is bad. I am so sorry.

[The Wizard]

a. you don't have to appologize for a post, the vanity police are on democrats.com

b. I am very, very sorry for your loss, and send my prayers to you and yours.....

[RedBloodedAmerican]

Way to go.

[Scully]

I'm very sorry about your loss...

[livius]

Sorry, guy. I'm not a dog person, but I can understand. If some predator got my horse, I'd feel the same way.

What I can't understand is why wildlife policy is actually promoting destructive pests (coyotes, foxes, wolves, prairie dogs). In fact, my daughter, who lives in Colorado, said that some of these have become so bold they even stalk humans. She's a police officer and has to stay in training, but when she sees pawprints (mountain lion) in the snow on the trail when she's about to go jogging, she heads right back to her car.

Isn't it time to change these policies?

[LaGrone]

I'm very sorry for the loss of your dog. A dog's fierce loyalty, unending love, and total devotion I know is irreplaceable.

The pooches I have had in my life were always happy to see me, and always brightened my mood.

Good luck in overcoming your tragedy.

[RedWhiteBlue]

I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I know (almost) how you feel. I lost a really fearless Yorkie three years ago at the age of 3 due to a heart defect. I can't imagine losing him the way you lost yours, though.

Barkley was a true terrier in every sense of the word. If there was something he wanted, he would work on it for hours without giving up. He spent his first year basically growing up in a "pack of wild Yorkies," since the "breader" gave her dogs very little human contact. His terrier skills were extremely well developed, though. He took well to his new home but never really understood that he didn't have to worry about fending for himself anymore.

When we lost him, I was grief stricken. I found another one year old two days later. It might seem stange to get another one so soon, but I highly recommend it. You can't replace Moleman but you can open your heart to some more love -- and it will definitely help you cope. Loosie is a real sweetie and a little commedian with a lot of enthusiasm and spirit. Anyone that hasn't had one of these little canines tends to dismiss them as toy froo-froo dogs, and they don't understand what's in that little package. They are fearless and great little hunters, and little clowns to boot. I never want to be without a Yorkie or another type of terrier.

[EverOnward]

Dogs really are man's best friend. We love our giant Jack Russell, a clown of a dog. I'm so sorry for your pain.