I had to put King George the 2nd down today. He was a Basset Hound and of a Royal Breed or so he appeared….He was 15 yrs old and thats a very long life for his breed…He was a major part of my heart and I feel his loss more than I can say…his brother who happens to be a Terrior keeps looking at me questionally and what can I tell him? What do I tell Tinker (his Siamese arch-nemisis)? I named him after another Basset, the first to claim my heart, but he was never an after-thought… Oh, George 2, You were so awesome, so gorgeous, such a major peice of my heart and I know I am going to be seeing you soon buddy boy. Love you George 2…
The House Dog’s Grave (Haig, an English bulldog)
•I’ve changed my ways a little; I cannot nowRun with you in the evenings along the shore,Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there.So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front doorWhere I used to scratch to go out or in,And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floorThe marks of my drinking-pan.
I cannot lie by your fire as I used to doOn the warm stone,Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night throughI lie alone.But your kind thought has laid me less than six feetOutside your window where firelight so often plays,And where you sit to read–and I fear often grieving for me–Every night your lamplight lies on my place……
I had to put King George the 2nd down today. He was a Basset Hound and of a Royal Breed or so he appeared….He was 15 yrs old and thats a very long life for his breed…He was a major part of my heart and I feel his loss more than I can say…his brother who happens to be a Terrior keeps looking at me questionally and what can I tell him? What do I tell Tinker (his Siamese arch-nemisis)? I named him after another Basset, the first to claim my heart, but he was never an after-thought… Oh, George 2, You were so awesome, so gorgeous, such a major peice of my heart and I know I am going to be seeing you soon buddy boy. Love you George 2…
The House Dog’s Grave (Haig, an English bulldog)
•I’ve changed my ways a little; I cannot nowRun with you in the evenings along the shore,Except in a kind of dream; and you, if you dream a moment, You see me there.So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front doorWhere I used to scratch to go out or in,And you’d soon open; leave on the kitchen floorThe marks of my drinking-pan.
I cannot lie by your fire as I used to doOn the warm stone,Nor at the foot of your bed; no, all the night throughI lie alone.But your kind thought has laid me less than six feetOutside your window where firelight so often plays,And where you sit to read–and I fear often grieving for me–Every night your lamplight lies on my place……
Robinson Jeffers, 1941