Update [2006-5-5 22:56:37 by Omir the Storyteller]: The poem has been edited slightly since it was first posted.
No, I’m not leaving. You guys aren’t that lucky (and neither is the Chimperor). I’ve just been having a couple of thoughts since yesterday when we discovered what Buster’s diagnosis is, and one of them is that people sometimes wish they could hear their own eulogy just to know what others are going to say about them when they’re gone. Maybe dogs do too.
So with that in mind, I wrote this little piece of doggerel over the last 12 hours or so. BooMan, don’t take this as in indication of your religious views by any means. I don’t even know what they are. It just sort of came out based on a discussion in the cafe a few nights ago, and if you like it can be told from the point of view of some other guy with a dog named Buster.
by Omir the Storyteller
If the fathers and the reverends are right about the afterlife
(I know, but I’m just sayin’) then when I have met my fate
And St. Peter calls me over and awards my harp and halo,
I’m sure that I’ll see Buster waiting just inside the gate.
He’ll jump and bark and put his muddy pawprints on my overalls
(Who needs a robe? Not me) and lead me through a meadow, breezy in
The sunshine, yipping, yelping, chasing, fetching, rolling, laughing,
As we walk toward forever in an endless field Elysian.
I’m told that there’s a mansion that’s prepared in all its glory
(yeah, I know, but I’m just sayin’) and in our celestial berth
He’ll sprawl out upon the carpet and proceed to chew my sandals
And we’ll laugh about the stupid stuff that happened down on Earth.
Perhaps I’ll get to shake the hands of famous men of history
And shake the paws of dogs that they’ve collected when we meet.
Any Jesus worth the name who loved the little children
Would unquestionably have a dog or two around his feet.
Einstein’s dog would ruminate on Special Relativity
While spinning one-two-three times smoothing out a patch of cloud.
Ghandi’s dog would sniff the butt of Moses’ retriever
While Oscar Wilde’s raised all the hell celestial law allowed.
The preachers and the pastors say that Heaven’s very beautiful.
A restful place with golden streets perpetually glowing.
But Heaven won’t be Heaven if I can’t have friends and family
And dogs — if Buster isn’t there, then thanks, but I’m not going.
Wonderful tribute Omir.
Aww. 🙂
Me too – if there are dogs and other cuddly things in heaven I’m not going either. Just let me become the grass, the soil, the new ferns curling up from the ground. No Buster?….INCONCEIVABLE!
Thank you, Omir.
You just touched upon one of the fundamental truths of Art:
— Omir, proud to have stolen that one from Will
not meant as a put down at all, hopefully, not taken as such…this is very eloquent, Omir. It just reminded me of WR…he was considered an important man in my house when I was growing up.
Oh absolutely no put down taken. That Will Rogers quote was part of the conversation in the Cafe that generated this discussion in the first place.
I don’t nearly know enough about Will Rogers, but what I know I like. I occasionally cruise the Net for collected quotes. Many of them are as relevant today as they were back then. I have an audio clip of Rogers telling his audience that he was just sort of amateur comedian. He wasn’t good enough to be a professional and move up to Congress where all the professional comedians went after trying out their comedy in the states.
Of course he said it much better than I can.
for that one, and here it is!!! dada; always a step ahead, eh?
It is beautiful poem with a visual I was able to see in my mind. Thanks!
Thanks Omir. That’s a wondeful poem and a great sentiment.
I have an appointment tomorrow to put him down. I still reserve the right to cancel it. He does not look ready to go, but he is just going to get much worse. My ex-wife and I are going to spend the intervening time with him and make our decision when it needs to be made.
He’s spent a lot of time outside today. Too bad it’s just a touch too hot for him today or I’d have let him spend the whole day outside.
He’s resting now with a fan blowing on him.
People walking by outside were saying how beautiful he looks and how good he looks for a 10 year old dog, etc. And he does look good. That’s what makes my decision about tomorrow so hard.
I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers tomorrow. I know how hard this decision is for you.
I’m glad you liked it. I’d be interested in what Buster thinks, but I’m sure his main thoughts at this point are “Boy, is it hot out here or what?” and “I sure wish this headache would go away.”
There are things worse than dying. One of them is living with chronic pain and diminished quality of life, and that’s true for pets and humans both. Courage to you in the next few days — whatever you do is going to be difficult.
I waited too long with my beloved cat, Zoe. She kept rebounding just a little bit, just enough to make me sure she would want one more day lying on the porch in the sunshine. Then in the middle of the night she took an awful turn and I had to wait until the vet opened at 8:00 – it was so hard to watch her struggle.
yeah, I am going to be struggling with that…if not tomorrow then I have to wait until Monday. And then the next day my ex-wife can be there is Wednesday. So, that is another factor.
I can say that I am not a very happy person at the moment. But I’m starting to come to terms with things. I think I’ll be able to make a rational decision and live with the results.
My dear friend,
Know that what you are about to do will be extremely difficult but probably the most humane thing you can do for Buster. Again, I just went through this and Norman looked good too except he was in horrendous pain and already on morphine when I got to the kennel. I took one look at him and he at me and I knew right away that I had to put him to sleep. Boo, as hard as it was,laying on the floor, holding him and petting him and crying, telling him how much I loved him and what a wonderful dog he was, it was the right thing to do. It doesn’t mean it won’t hurt deep in your heart but it was the right thing to do. It is over in seconds and Norman went without a wimper. He just put his head down and he was gone. I know Buster and Norman, the two Newfies will find each other and run and play into eternity. God Bless!
thanks Leezy. It means a lot.
Well say! You captured my thoughts as well.
You’re doing the right thing, BooMan. It’s so so hard.
I waited too long when The Best Cat In the World was dying of kidney failure. When she couldn’t eat and barely could walk anymore I made an appointment for a very kind vet to come to our house the next morning and ease Gym away. Gym died before the vet came and six years later, it still hurts to think she suffered unnecessarily because I selfishly couldn’t let her go.
I will be thinking of you and Buster tomorrow.
Will the vet come to your house?
Our’s does that to help minimize the stress that animals and their companions have when the time comes…it’s a very humane and loving way to show respect.
My thoughts and blessings to all of you.
Peace
No, they won’t come out to the house, but they are nearby and they will handle things very well.
consider yourself four-showered.
And we’ll laugh about the stupid stuff that happened down on Earth. That’s where the tears started …
I’m so sorry Boo — this is such a painful decision. I had to do this w/ my furbaby and it was one of the most heartwrenching experiences of my life. I spent the following few days sobbing in bed. But he was in so much pain, and it would have been selfish to prolong it … I know he’s in a better pain-free, catnip-filled place. Please know that we’re thinking of you at this time and sending virtual hugs. {{{{{Boo}}}}}}
That’s where the tears started
You shoulda seen me when I was writing it. I snotted up a pile of Kleenex and started in on the toilet paper.
Even now that it’s done I can’t seem to make my way through it without tearing up.
Your feelings come through in the reading … It’s a wonderful tribute, and I’m so glad that you kept at it last night. {{{{Omir}}}}
Some of it came to me in the polishing phase this morning. I did the part about Jesus last night and only mentioned the other famous names. When I started looking at it prior to posting the stanza starting with “Einstein’s dog” just suggested itself. This thing’s about dogs, why would I meet Ghandi without meeting his dog too? I briefly wondered if it would be too silly, but then decided that a little levity might keep the poem from being an exercise in lugubriousness.
“Dogs of the Famous” could be a pretty funny poem or song all by itself someday, if I can ever get my whimsical muse to settle in long enough to guide me in writing it. Unfortunately she usually just comes by, gives me an idea, then wanders off again to go visit someone else. Maybe I need a bag of Purina Muse Chow or something.
You’re a good man Omir.
Very sweet tribute.
Booman, I’m so sorry for your impending loss. I’ve never been a “pet person”, but I’d have to be a cold hearted SOB not to have fallen for a big, shaggy friend like yours.
Take care of yourself.
I’ve had two dogs of my own that met untimely, unfortunate ends — I never had to put one down because they were both killed by blunt trauma (one was hit by a truck, the other had a crushed skull but we never found out what happened). So yeah, been there, done that.
Now I don’t have room for a dog and probably will never have one again. The only breed my wife will put up with is a St. Bernard, and I don’t expect to ever have enough room to keep a St. Bernard adequately. So, I have to enjoy other peoples’ as much as my allergies will let me. (That’s another story.)
I think my non-pet personhood began when I was 10. We lived on the beach in Galveston at the time and had found a stray Geman Shepard puppy there one day. You know how cute they are with their floppy ears ? I was completely taken with him. I remember how bad I felt when he got stung by a bee and his whole face swelled up. I felt awful for him. Well back to the beach. That’s where he ran off one day after having him for a few months. I never saw him again and it broke my little heart. I never could get real close to an animal after that. Shame.
What a magnificent tribute to Buster, Omir. Thank you, not only for penning such a wonderful piece, but also for your “thieving” amongst the best. If only I could have put that into verse as well as you, but you’re the artist, and I am a mere gardener. 🙂
I, too, am in tears once again at the thought of Buster’s passing, and at learning about the most difficult decision that Booman has made. Booman, I’m sure we all trust your wisdom in that most painful decision you have had to take … I certainly do.
A song just popped into my head right now… Ripple by the Grateful Dead. I wish I had the lyrics at hand, but I’m sure you know it… it seems to sum up how I feel for you both right now, so I’ll leave it at that.
We send our love to you and Buster at this sad time, in remembrance of the good years you had together. No one, ever, can take those away from you.
spoken as one who admires your ability to coax color and beauty out of the ground. I’m happy if I can get a few snapdragons and peonies to grow until July.
As for Ripple, here you go:
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music
Would you hold it near as it were your own?
It’s a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
Perhaps they’re better left unsung
I don’t know, don’t really care
Let there be songs to fill the air
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men
There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall you fall alone
If you should stand then who’s to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home
I have a soft spot in my head for all the songs on American Beauty but that one is probably my second favorite, right next to Truckin’ for some reason I can’t explain.
Box of Rain:
And thank you too, CG… for remembering another great one. One of these days we’ll have to compare Dead notes, but now is not an appropriate time.
Thanks for putting those up, Omir. That song has always seemed so sad, yet affirming to me at the same time. It’s right up there with some of R. Hunter’s best work, I think. Now, about Trucking that is indeed odd. That has always been the Dead song I want to skip when I listen to that album. Ahh, 1970 was a great year for the Dead.
Being a dog lover, I must confess I have never before considered a heaven with dogs..should have but didn’t. Now I must also admit that it (heaven) is suddenly a place I would like to visit, when my time here is done.
Part of my inspiration for the poem is a mural on one of the buildings in the Northern Trail section of Seattle’s Woodland Zoo. It details some words spoken by a native guide — Chippewa, I think — to a French priest:
Dogs and family by the lake while the loon cries. Oh, and a computer or something similarly interesting to work with. Sounds like heaven to me.
If he isn’t there I’m not going either!
Psst…there’s a cake recipe for you in the lounge….
Boo, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re losing Buster. It’s a difficult time. When I had to have my sweet kitty put to sleep just shy of his 23rd birthday I found a lot of comfort in the Rainbow Bridge story.
That’s an excellent story and one I’d never heard before. It fits right in with the poem. Thanks.
I’m glad that you liked it. Your poem is powerful too. I’d hate to contemplate an afterlife that didn’t include our furry children. If all goes well, my sweet kitty has staked out a comfy chair by a fireplace with good light for reading and needlework. Maybe a love-seat would be better as I hope that Cynthia-He (ok, I couldn’t tell gender at age 9), Sam & Coney are all there along with my current kitties.
I was fortunate in that our vet is very caring – I didn’t want my sweet kitty frightened, so he was put to sleep first with gas while I cuddled him. Only then was his leg shaved and the shot that took him out of his pain administered. He was a fighter – given 6 months to live because of kidney failure at age 17½, he hung on for almost 5½ years thanks to an experimental treatment that our vet had heard about.
The Diva Dogs and I are sending warm thoughts of Love & Healing!!! I know my old puppies Billy and Preko are waiting to take Buster into the fold and play all day.
I will share a poem someone sent me when I had to part with Billy the Beagle.
Dang… it’s been a pretty rough year for you, BooMan.
I’m very sorry to hear about BooDog, he’s come to feel like not only a part of your family, but this one as well. Who can forget the BooPoo prints and other stories?
Take time to take care of yourself.
I daydreamed about having a petshop in heaven. I know that we are total fools thinking that only humans are God created and only humans are worthy of any afterlife. But then the problem with being human is the incredible narrowness of our thinking. Until someone is born a poet and shows us a sliver more.
waiting for a pet to choose us?
It was a pleasure to read, the pleasure of feeling real.