A fur baby poem

Autumn at one year old
I just wanted to share a poem I found on a website (here). I'm not obsessing, I promise...I will move on to other subjects as soon as I can get "her" post up...but had to share a fur baby poem first, since I don't have time to finish up Autumn's post just yet. Working on pickles and the last of the peaches today, along with visiting with my niece! Game night helped keep my mind off losing Autumn, which I'm very grateful for. Helping can potatoes for Mom tomorrow, so it could be another day or two before I get Autumn's post up.

This was a tear jerker, but I like fur baby poems, especially when we loose one.

From Friend to Friend

You're giving me a special gift,
So sorrowfully endowed,
And through these last few cherished days,
Your courage makes me proud.

But really, love is knowing
When your best friend is in pain,
And understanding earthly acts
Will only be in vain.

So looking deep into your eyes,
Beyond, into your soul,
I see in you the magic, that will
Once more make me whole.

The strength that you possess,
Is why I look to you today,
To do this thing that must be done,
For it's the only way.

That strength is why I've followed you,
And chose you as my friend,
And why I've loved you all these years...
My partner 'til the end.

Please, understand just what this gift,
You're giving, means to me,
It gives me back the strength I've lost,
And all my dignity.

You take a stand on my behalf,
For that is what friends do.
And know that what you do is right,
For I believe it too.

So one last time, I breathe your scent,
And through your hand I feel,
The courage that's within you,
To now grant me this appeal.

Cut the leash that holds me here,
Dear friend, and let me run,
Once more a strong and steady dog,
My pain and struggle done.

And don't despair my passing,
For I won't be far away,
Forever here, within your heart,
And memory I'll stay.

I'll be there watching over you,
Your ever faithful friend,
And in your memories I'll run,
...a young dog once again.

In Memory of Asta, Feb. 1997
(c) Karen Clouston