poems for the loss of our babies - Forest Ostrander (mystery books to read TXT) 📗

Do They Know?

Do they know, as we do, that their time must come?
Yes, they know, at rare moments.
No other way can I interpret those pauses of his latter life, when, propped on his forefeet, he would sit for long minutes quite motionless-his head drooped, utterly withdrawn; then turn those eyes of his and look at me.
That look said more plainly than all words could: "Yes, I know that I must go."
If we have spirits that persist-they have.
If we know, after our departure, who we were-they do.
No one, I think, who really longs for truth, can ever glibly say which it will be for dog and man-persistence or extinction of our consciousness.
There is but one thing certain-the childishness of fretting over that eternal question.
Whichever it be, it must be right, the only possible thing.
He felt that too, I know; but then, like his master, he was what is called a pessimist.
My companion tells me that, since he left us, he has once come back.
It was Old Year's Night, and she was sad, when he came to her in visible shape of his black body, passing round the dining table from the window end, to his proper place beneath the table, at her feet.
She saw him quite clearly; she heard the padding tap-tap of his paws and very toe-nails; she felt his warmth brushing hard against the front of her skirt.
She thought then that he would settle down upon her feet, but something disturbed him, and he stood pausing, pressed against her, then moved out toward where I generally sit, but was not sitting that night.
She saw him stand there, as if considering; then at some sound or laugh, she became self-conscious, and slowly, very slowly, he was no longer there.
Had he some message, some counsel to give, something he would say, that last night of the last year of all those he had watched over us?
Will he come back again?
No stone stands over where he lies. It is on our hearts that his life is engraved.


John Galsworthy


A "GOLDEN" GOOD-BYE

To our Golden Retriever, Shockoe

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, Shockie's mommy

A Christmas Story
December is the best month of the year at the Rainbow Bridge. For the dogs there is snow to romp in and the angels always have time to toss snowballs for them to chase. The cats enjoy patting at the snowflakes as they fall, and then curling up near the fireplace for a nice winter's nap.

But it is the lights that make this time so special. Winter on the Earth, their former home, is a time of lengthening darkness, and in December candles glow all around the globe beginning with Chanukah, the Festival of Lights, and continuing on right through the New Year's festivities. At the Bridge the glow of these candles is reflected in all of the trees, and in the hearts of every Bridgekid as they observe the month in their own special way; with memories of the lives, and the loved ones they left behind.

For most it is a time of quiet joy, but each year there are always a few who draw apart..
Near to midnight, "home time" on December 24 Charlie realized someone was missing from the Hale gathering. "I'll be right back," he told his siblings. He passed many similar groupings as he hurried down the well worn path, many friends called out to him, but he only acknowledge the greetings with a wave and continued on. The path ended at the Rainbow, and there he found a small group of newcomers, each sitting quietly, alone. One of these, the missing Sandifur, was crouched at the very edge, his stumpy tail twitching rapidly, as he stared at the scene below.

"You are missing the party, little brother," Charlie said.
"I don't care," replied Sandifur, "I don't like Christmas anyway. "

Charlie only smiled. "I felt the same way my first year. Do you remember your very first Christmas with Mom and Dad? Remember the new scratching tree they gave us that year, and the catnip mice? And remember all the good things we got to eat? That was a great time, wasn't it?" Sandifur nodded, still gazing intently below. "I want to go back."
"I did too, " Charlie said, licking gently at his brother's ear. "But we can't, baby brother. This is our place now." "But it's Christmas, and Mom and Dad miss us so much. Look, mom is lighting a candle right now, just for us and she is crying."

"Christmas Eve is her time to remember, little one, but tomorrow she will pass out the presents to all of our brothers and sisters, and she will be happy again. I want to show you something. Come with me."
Together the two kiddens climbed the arch of the Rainbow, and at the very top Charlie stopped. "Do you see that big silver cloud over there? Watch closely."

As Sandifur gazed the cloud began to swirl and gradually an image came into view. The clearing where he had left his family, and a larger gathering around the big, glowing pine tree. He could see the dogs, many more of them than when he had left, playing fetch and tug of war, and the kiddens, so many kiddens, sleeping in a heap, their soggy catnip mice forgotten in the grass.

Suddenly the kiddens all woke up, and the dogs ceased their play and stared into the darkness beyond the clearing, tails wagging in greeting.
And then, much to Sandifur's amazement, two humans stepped into the light."
"Hurry, Charlie, we have to go back," he said. " Mom and Dad, they're here!"
"Not just yet, Sandy. That cloud is our Window into Tomorrow.
Come back with me now, and join the others. The reunion will come. We have been promised."

Sandy reluctantly pulled his gaze away from the vision of the future, and followed Charlie. They found the others waiting for them at the base of the rainbow. "Is it time?" Charlie asked.
Terrie nodded, "They are waiting."
All of the Hale Bridgekids drew together, and looked over the edge, and along the entire length of the rainbow similar groups were gathered, all looking down at their former homes.

Suddenly the light of a million candles from the Earth met the glow from the Rainbow Bridge. "Now," Charlie whispered.

In unison three words were repeated again and again, and as they were spoken they merged with the bridge of light, flowing from the rainbow to the earth, and back again in ever increasing brilliance, and the colors of the rainbow merged with the light. "I love you," they all said, and the love entered every heart of the pet parents on earth, and the hearts of those who gathered at the rainbow.

"Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad," Sandifur whispered again, watching the lights slowly fade. "I love you. I will be waiting."

"I will look ahead for there is our tomorrow."


Marion Hale

A Little Dog Angel

High up in the courts of heaven today
a little dog angel waits;
with the other angels he will not play,
but he sits alone at the gates.
"For I know my master will come" says he,
"and when he comes he will call for me."

The other angels pass him by
As they hurry toward the throne,
And he watches them with a wistful eye
as he sits at the gates alone.
"But I know if I just wait patiently
that someday my master will call for me."

And his master, down on earth below,
as he sits in his easy chair,
forgets sometimes, and whispers low
to the dog who is not there.
And the little dog angel cocks his ears
and dreams that his master's voice he hears.

And when at last his master waits
outside in the dark and cold,
for the hand of death to open the door,
that leads to those courts of gold,
he will hear a sound through the gathering dark,
a little dog angel's bark.

Noah M. Holland

A Prayer for Animals

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends the animals, especially for animals who are suffering; for any that are hunted or lost or deserted or frightened or hungry; for all that must be put to death. We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity, and for those who deal with them we ask a heart of compassion and gentle hands and kindly words. Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals and so to share the blessings of the merciful.


Albert Schweitzer

A Time of Remembrance
by Isabel M.Gordon


Sometimes I sit in my room after a long difficult day and just think...I let my mind meander and chase fleeting thoughts on gossamer wings. I dive and soar through my recollections of moments. Some are sweet or joyful. They uplift me and make me feel as though I am really flying...whoosh! I can almost feel the wind against my face. Others touch the places inside that are still bruised and hurt. They're the ones that spring up suddenly and with no warning; like a sharp turn on that tailwind I am riding. Tonight I sat down for my journey. I never thought my wanderings would ever take me to the special place I saw tonight.