Christmas Without My Dog – poem

dog christmas tree

dog christmas tree

The tree is all trimmed.
The gifts are all wrapped.
The hymns are all sung,
And the travel plans mapped.

And still there’s a sadness
That lies in your heart,
For a dog that was lost
And a love now apart.

A stocking is missing,
With toys and a treat.
A lap is now empty,
A space at your feet.

Yet remember this season
God’s small gift to you,
Wonderful memories
To treasure life through.

Author unknown

Dreams and Chin – poem

stream forest


Evening stars, warm gentle breezes blowing
Sitting, watching as Chin play so freely
On my lap, he sits and plays
He seems to contemplate my silent ways

He gives me love, I take these with warm feelings
At night he sleeps upon my pillow
I dream of friends long since departed
Here in my heart, they are still near me

In my dreams I see my old Chin clearly
By a stream he stand open mouth smiling
waiting patiently for me to come playing
In these dreams I see my new Chin playing

Running, spinning and dancing with my old dear friend
He seems to tell him don’t feel sad
For he can’t come and play just now
It’s not his time yet to laugh and run

It’s not his time for eternal fun
Though he thinks of you and he thinks of me
He thinks of the time that is approaching

When we all shall meet by this peaceful stream
We shall all then be able to play for eternity

Jim Rusciano

Erica’s Song – poem

water forest sun

water forest sun

Go Joyously into the spirit and the summerland of youth,
Glory once again in your strength. Run free amid the wildflowers.
Sniff the tantalizing smells among the wooded tangles of the forest.
Sleep in the warm sun beside murmuring brooks.
And when you weary of the green hills and fields of Rainbow Bridge,
follow the bright strand- forged of love which connects us.
It leads to the garden of my soul where a warm welcome always awaits your coming.

Lisa Singer

Forgive Me If I Weep – poem

cat playing sunshine

cat playing sunshine

Forgive me if I weep – he was so sweet,
That little cat who scampered through the house,
Or curled asleep upon the window ledge,
Though still alert to stir of leaf or mouse.

But now he’s gone, whose soft paw often touched
My cheek at the first glint of day;
Or with arched back, skipped through the room,
Enticing me to enter in his play.

Oh God of little cats-my earnest plea
Is that while things are strange to him You may
Scratch his ears sometimes, let him chase
Celestial mice along the Milky Way,

Just for a little while until he finds
Some chosen spot upon the Outer Gate
When he is weary of his running, where he may
Curl in the sunshine, there to sleep-and wait.

Author unknown

Bruno and the Angel – poem

angel statue

It was very cold and grey, that long ago day, it was the winter of 83.
December, so I’ve heard ’em say.
It was cold and it was grey –
and oh the pain, I remember the pain.

My leg, I can’t move it, it’s broken I know.
I’d close my eyes and the pain was there.
And the cold, and the cold, and the pain.
How long, oh Lord, oh Lord, how long?
How long did I lie there, oh Lord, how long?
And my leg, and the pain, and the cold, the cold.

But God in Heaven – heard my sad whimper and
an angel she was, I know she was an angel. Her
words were kind and her touch was loving.
And the cold was hurt and the leg was hurt.

But there she was and there she is and my angel
was there and the cold fled away I know not where.
And the pain and leg and the cold and the grey
soon faded and faded and faded away.

And when I awoke there was my angel and her words
were kind and her touch was gentle. And she said to me
she said to me; hello Bruno hello. Here’s a friend, friend
Bruno. And his name was Duke and he’s all tan and I’m
black and tan and his name is Duke and me, well bless me
so – cause my name is Bruno – my angel said.

And the cold was gone! And the pain was– well it’s not
so bad. Not with a friend and not with my angel. And time
did pass by weeks and days and months and yes, even years.
What’s time to me, cause I’ve my friend Duke and even more
my angel was there and her touch was gentle and her words were
kind – this angel of mine.

And time did pass and pass did time and then one day my angel
did say – here Bruno – here’s another friend – friend – and this one
was tall and sorta different – why he’s older I thought and bald and
gentle. Gentle is he and bald is he and my angel did say – here Bruno – here’s a friend.

And time did pass and pass did time and the bald one and I – well we
had fun. We would drive and ride and now I’m older – but what the
heck – I like his shoulder. And drive and ride and romp and play –
mid fields with cactus and mesquite we go. Baldy and I – both getting
older – but what the heck – I like his shoulder.

And time did pass and pass did time and I’d see that angel of mine.
And then one day – she’s sad said I – and then she told me – your
friend dear Bruno – he’s gone away to run and play in another time
and another place. And old Duke was gone. Nother place, place.

And the wind is gentle and the grass is green and
there is no pain and no cold there. For she said to me he’s awaiting there
cause by and by as time does pass and pass does time we all must make
that trip you know. And her words were kind and her hands were gentle
and time did pass by months by years and grave yards I’d roam no more.

Oh that was fun – for me – not for them – the cats – the hare – and my oh yes –
a skunk every now and then – for me to catch – oh how I shudder – the smell
the taste – twas ever so awful – but still twas fun for me – not them. Grave
yards – fun – for me – not them. Both getting older – old baldy and me – but
what the heck – I like his shoulder.

There’s something wrong – what has happened – my eyes are dim – my steps
are slow – my joints, they creak – my ears, they droop – why don’t they shout
instead they whisper – I cannot hear – my eyes are dim and nightmares return
oh no, oh no, not the cold again – not the hurt again – get away from me you
demons you.

And time does pass by months by years and grave yards I’d roam no more.
And baldy seems sad – I wonder why – my angel, why she and he, did cry.
I feel his touch, it’s on my head – and this is what I heard was said – good bye
my Bruno – my Brunie – good bye – we’ve travelled far – old baldy and me –
travelled far old baldy and me.

But now – it seems – better for you and better for me – if for awhile to travel –
just me – and then as time does pass by months by years I’ll wait for you across
the bridge – see up there – up there – over the ridge. I’ll wait for you old baldy
and by and by we’ll travel some more. Not older – not older – but then again –
I’ll have your shoulder. Your shoulder. No pain – no pain – no pain – no more.

Oh Bruno, Oh Bruno – I love you so – I heard him say – again – once more.

Radford B Allen

Boxer Angels – poem

boxer dog

boxer dog

For those Boxer Babies in the sky
Who have left our loving arms
Don’t stop to ask or wonder why
Just know they’re free from harm

No pain or fright confronts them now
They’ve left that all behind
They’re embracing joy and freedom
And still live in our minds

Eyes are bright and seeing clear
Velvet skin is healed
Legs aren’t stiff, and ears can hear
Our love they still can feel

Embrace their memory, hold it tight
Wipe away your tears
The Boxer joy that filled your life
Will last throughout the years

Think of them with happy thoughts
Say a thankful prayer
All those happy Boxer angels
Still know that we care

Dolly Juhlin

Pet Heaven – poem

bridge mystical

bridge mystical

There’s a bridge beyond the rainbow that God prepared with care
so when our pets must leave us we’ll know that they are there.
It is a special sanctum where they can rest and play,
knowing we will claim them again some joyous day.

Our bond will be renewed just as it was before;
the undying love of a pet you cannot ask for more.
I pray for such a Heaven for in my heart I know
wherever He does take them – that’s where I want to go.

C David Hay

A Golden Goodbye – poem

dog on bed pillow

dog on bed

I sit and try to write the words, I want your heart to hear.
Hoping to find some comfort, in the fact that your not here.
I look out into the open field, that you once occupied,
Knowing now that field is empty, because my love, you’ve died.

I do believe with all my heart, that your soul has gone to be,
With all the other angel dogs, that you were meant to see.
We will have to stay behind, until God calls us too,
So do not be afraid, that he’s only called for you.

The water is still, in the pond that you played,
And your bed is so empty, where your pretty head laid.
Our bed is to empty, where you once laid between,
the two people who LOVED you and now only dream,

That one day our eyes will shut one last time,
and you will come greet us, angel of mine.
Until then, I’ll keep trying to see through my tears,
with memories you left us, to reflect through the years.

We’ll never forget one minute we spent,
of loving and laughing, of places we went.
And I dread the day that your scent disappears,
for it’s “proof” to me, Shockie, that you were just here!

But one day will come, when we’ll start to see through,
the pain of the moment, and remember just “you”.
Now you go and play, and look down when you can,
remembering we love you, and this isn’t the end.

Holly W Gray

The Rainbow Bridge Poem by Tony Bacon

rainbow bridge


The Rainbow Bridge Poem

Just this side of heaven is a very peaceful place,
where animal lovers around the world think of fondly and embrace.
For when an animal dies that has been close to someone here,
that pet goes to The Rainbow Bridge, free of ailments and of fear.

There are meadows and hills for our special friends,
so they can run & play,
with plenty of food and water, and sunshine throughout the day
Our friends are warm and comfortable, those hurt are strong again.
Health and vigour are theirs once more, free from any pain.

So remember them as they once were, in our dreams of days gone by.
Our animals are happy, but for the small tear in their eye.
Cos just like us they miss someone very special, left behind.
When they look up for a stroke on their head, a hand they cannot find.

They all run and play together, but one day he’ll stop and stare.
He sees you in the distance, he sees you standing there.
His bright eyes are so intent as his eager body quivers.
Excitedly he starts to run through previously tranquil rivers.

You cling together in joyous reunion, never again will you be parted.
As happy kisses replace your tears, companionship restarted.
Your hands caress his beloved head, to you there’s no surprise,
when once again you see love & trust deep in you baby’s eyes.

So long gone from your life but never far from your heart,
the pain now eased, your smile now back, you’ll never be apart.
With great joy you turn and walk through the meadow lined with heather.
Side-by-side with your best friend as you cross The Rainbow Bridge together.

By Tony Bacon, inspired by the original Rainbow Bridge poem by author unknown. Also by Tony Bacon is A Single Tear.

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Boatswain – poem

lord byron bust


lord byron bust
Lord Byron


Boatswain was the unusual name Lord Byron (English Poet) gave his loyal Newfoundland. When Boatswain passed to Rainbow Bridge a monument was erected on his grave in Newstead Abbey. The following poem was written by Lord Byron and can be found on the side of this monument:

When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below;

When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, the foremost to defend,

Whose honest heart is still his master’s own,
Who labors, lives, fights, breathes for him alone,
Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth.

While man, vain insect, hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole, exclusive heaven.
Ye! Who behold, perchance, this simple urn,
Pass on; it honours none you wish to mourn.

To mark a friend’s remains these stones rise,
I have never known but one – and here he lies.

Lord Byron