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Author Topic: For my dog, who was very good  (Read 4132 times)


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For my dog, who was very good
« on: 02 Jan 2011, 20:42 »

So I had this dog.  His name was Boss.  He was old, more than half deaf, and just loped around the farm at a slow walk looking at everything, but he was the friendliest old fella you ever met.  He was a Blue Heeler cross Kelpie, and when he was younger he'd been one of the smartest cattle dogs you've ever heard of, and I used to play with him all the time.  He fought snakes that were too close to the house, he never chased cars, and he never did anything worse than kill a couple of chickens when he was young (secretly I was proud of him :P ).  And he was good to the whole family, but he was my dog and everyone pretty much knew it.  When he got old he mostly slept on the verandah and woofed at things, but he'd still poke his head around the corner to see what people were up to if you came out, and he always got excited to see me when I came home to visit.  And I was always happy to see him, scratch his ears, roll him over and get his legs twitching by rubbing his belly.  Y'know, the way there's nothing like a good dog.

He died just a couple of days ago.

When I got the news I was watching some documentary about famous leaders around the world, and there was a montage of statues of famous people.  At the time, pretty upset about Boss - I'm not ashamed to admit that I got a little teary - all I could think was that he deserved his own monument, because dammit, he was a great dog.  He was my good little mate.  And I can't really do much about the monument, sadly.  But, as these things sometimes do, it got the pen working.

Boss, this is for you.  I'll miss you.

You good dog.


For The Dogs

My heart's not true to blood that's blue, nor politician's smile,
Nor battle-dress and ribboned breast that stand for rank and file;
For those who claim we're equal-born, with none above the rest,
Don't seem to be too eager when those claims are put to test.

We raise our hands to raze the lands in never-ending war,
We kiss the brass and never ask just what we're fighting for,
We farm the hills and pay the bills with all that we have got -
It's as if we're buying something, but we're not quite certain what.

Then when it's done, the war is won, and all the debts are paid,
We cook the books and take a look at all the mess we've made;
And then as a reminder of these clever things we've done,
We choose from all the "Equals" and we make a show of one.

And there they stand in every land, in city parks and squares,
Immortalised in timeless form, in poses strong and fair,
Memorials of steel and stone, of "equal" well-to-do,
These legends that the world called Sir, but its people never knew.

Are these the signs of passing times, these statues which we make?
These forms of steel, that never feel, with smiles broad and fake?
For when the plaques have worn away, and deeds long past have died,
The statues still are standing, and I see no reason why.

No man of law I ever saw could represent us all,
No mighty lord of fighting hordes deserves that statue tall.
When times are shared as many, they can't be defined by one,
No matter who that one might be, nor what they might have done.

So tear them down in every town, and build there in their place
A simple sign that can define our simple human race,
For these qualities of legend that drive us so agog
Can be summed up in a simple form - Man's Greatest Friend, the Dog.

A friend in need of selfless deed, a soldier brave and true,
And never one to turn and run when yet there's work to do;
A spirit never flagging and a heart that never breaks,
And in the very darkest hours, a simple, loving mate.

Then let them stand in place of man, these champions of heart,
To represent the ages spent, to stand as works of art;
And in their metal muscles, in each sandstone-sculpted hair,
Shape heart and love and loyalty and selflessness and care.

So let folks say who pass that way that we've slipped in the head,
That it shouldn't be a dog we see, but some old man instead;
But a deed can be forgotten while a stone can hold time out,
So let statues be a symbol of those things that really count.

And if a man could ever stand for even half as much,
I'd shrug my head, and still instead, I'd carve another mutt,
For those mutts can teach us something, and no knowledge could rate higher...

Dogs live as proof of a simple truth:  That God, he loves a trier.

Dedicated to every good dog who ever made their human smile.
Proud guardian of the original Useless Broom Made Entirely Out Of Dicks

Holding the line against the Rabid Fanboy Horde

Blue Kitty

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Re: For my dog, who was very good
« Reply #1 on: 02 Jan 2011, 21:13 »

Oh god, I haven't even read the dang thing and I'm already starting to tear up.


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Re: For my dog, who was very good
« Reply #2 on: 04 Jan 2011, 09:48 »

That was wonderful, and a lovely tribute to your dog.
There's this really handy "other thing" I'm going to write as a footnote to my abstract that I can probably explore these issues in. I think I'll call it my "dissertation."


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« Reply #3 on: 17 Jan 2011, 19:17 »

That was beautiful. I haven't read anything like this is a long, long time. It's nice to feel the emotion behind words.


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Re: For my dog, who was very good
« Reply #4 on: 17 Jan 2011, 20:11 »

:') That is beautiful. I'm not sure I have the right words. You and Boss were obviously lucky to have each other and you've made me feel grateful for my non-human friends.
"It's funny how you think I'm an asshole because I've got HIGH self esteem"
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