last night as i walk on the door to our house i found my sister 3 month old puppy. lying there, on our empty garage I look at her, pat her tiny head. She just lie there. and i know there is a problem. Early this week, I heard that she's not feeling well and doesn't take any food. They have given her medicine but on a young age, i think its to miraculous to survive as in any pet would, if were diseased on a young age. I pray, like every human being would do. I said “lord, take care of this young fellow, she is good and sweet. I know that you would put her in a better place than my sister and I had put her through. Take care of her. I love you!”. As I walk to my bedroom, I heard several bark, I go outside to see her. She was dying but she keeps on fighting. She is struggling.
I wake up this morning and ask my mother, she said, “she’s dead, your father already burry her, she is now on a good place”. I haven’t spoken any words; at least, she’s now on a right place.I have remember how my mother hates when she licks her feet. I have opened my laptop and search the web for a perfect poem, and I guess this is the one that I found that touches me, this is for her.
Where To Bury A Dog
Ben Hur Lampman
There are various places within which a dog may be buried. We are thinking now of a setter, whose coat was flame in the sunshine, and who, so far as we are aware, never entertained a mean or an unworthy thought. This setter is buried beneath a cherry tree, under four feet of garden loam, and at its proper season the cherry strews petals on the green lawn of his grave. Beneath a cherry tree, or an apple, or any flowering shrub of the garden, is an excellent place to bury a good dog. Beneath such trees, such shrubs, he slept in the drowsy summer, or gnawed at a flavorous bone, or lifted head to challenge some strange intruder. These are good places, in life or in death. Yet it is a small matter, and it touches sentiment more than anything else.
For if the dog be well remembered, if sometimes he leaps through your dreams actual as in life, eyes kindling, questing, asking, laughing, begging, it matters not at all where that dog sleeps at long and at last. On a hill where the wind is unrebuked and the trees are roaring, or beside a stream he knew in puppyhood, or somewhere in the flatness of a pasture land, where most exhilarating cattle graze. It is all one to the dog, and all one to you, and nothing is gained, and nothing lost -- if memory lives. But there is one best place to bury a dog. One place that is best of all.
If you bury him in this spot, the secret of which you must already have, he will come to you when you call -- come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well-remembered path, and to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they should not growl at him, nor resent his coming, for he is yours and he belongs there.
People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper pitched too fine for mere audition, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them then, for you shall know something that is hidden from them, and which is well worth the knowing.
The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.
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