Throughout the years, there have been times where I have been inspired to write a poem. This happened this past Saturday when I had gone to PETCO to visit with the animals that were up for adoption (Romeo, Georgie and Roni). Needless to say, I fell in love with all of them and was quite sad when I had to leave. Thankfulness, however, overshadowed the sadness when I realized how many volunteers have committed themselves to making sure that each and every animal had mattered; hence, the poem "I MATTER". It is my own personal tribute to all of the volunteers. I know the animals
You may have found me on the street or left at someone’s door;
You may have found me cold and wet from being in the rain
You may have found me tired and panting as I could walk no more
You may have found me hours away from being put to sleep
You may have found me excited as you visited me at the shelter
You may have found me a little sad as I knew you had to leave
You may have found me happy when on the internet I would be placed
You may have found me perky, as in my heart there was a song
BUT TODAY YOU FIND ME THANKFUL BECAUSE I NO LONGER FEEL ALONE
THANKS TO THE HUMANE SOCIETIES THAT DO THEIR BEST TO GET THE ANIMALS ADOPTED. THANKS TO ALL OF THE VOLUNTEERS THAT GIVE UP THEIR TIME, LOVE, AND ENERGY TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE, EVEN IF ONE LITTLE ANIMAL SENSES THAT EVEN IT’S LITTLE LIFE MATTERED. TO ALL OF THE RESCUE SHELTERS FOR THE ENDLESS HOURS IN TRYING TO RESCUE THESE ANIMALS AND PLACING THEM IN A HOME. SPECIAL THANKS TO THE “NO KILL” RESCUE SHELTERS THAT TAKE IN VARIOUS ANIMALS WITH VARIOUS HEALTH PROBLEMS. TO ALL OF YOU, YOU ARE THESE ANIMALS UNSUNG HEROES. YOU DO NOT GET THE CREDIT YOU DESERVE FOR DOING SUCH A SELFLESS ACT. THANKS FOR MAKING EVERY ANIMAL FEEL THAT EVEN THEY MATTER.
Author: Bernadette Oliff
"Rescue Me Please"
Rescue me not only with your hands
Rescue me not out of pity
Rescue me not with self-righteousness
Rescue me not because of my past
Rescue me not simply to save me
Rescue me not only with a firm hand
Rescue me not only because of who I am
Rescue me not to revere yourself to others
Rescue me not with a hidden agenda
Rescue me not to be chained or to fight
Rescue me not to replace one you've lost
Rescue me not to be your pet
"My Foster Dog is Beautiful"
My foster dog stinks to high heaven.
At home I leave him in the crate till all the other dogs are in the yard.
When we come back I pat him before I let him in the crate, he jerks away and runs into the crate to show me his teeth.
His only defense was a show of his stained teeth that did not hold up to a face full of water.
One week later I have a vet bill.
Someone called today and asked about him, they saw the picture I took the first week.
Written by: Martha O'Connor
How Could You?
When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you’d shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" – but then you’d relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" – still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch – because your touch was now so infrequent – and I would have defended them with my life if need be.
I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don’t let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.
After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you – that you had changed your mind – that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I’m so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself – a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Copyright Jim Willis 2001
No more lonely cold nights or hearing that I'm bad
No more scorching sunshine with a water bowl that's dry.
No more hearing "shut up", "get down" or "get out of here!"
Euthanasia is a blessing, though some still can't see
My last day of living was the best I ever had.
I kissed the lady's face, and she hugged me as she cried.
Written by an Animal shelter volunteer in Massena, NY
THE MEANING OF RESCUE
Now that I'm home, bathed, settled and fed,
I'd like to open my baggage Lest I forget,
Hmm . . . Yes there it is, right on the top
And there by my leash hides Fear and Shame.
I loved them, the others, the ones who left me,
Will you add to my baggage? Will you help me unpack?
Do you have the time to help me unpack?
I pray that you do - I'm so tired you see,
Dear God, please send me somebody who'll care!
My last owner tied me all day in the yard
They've chased me with sticks hit me with stones.
I'm wormy dear God and I'm ridden with fleas,
I don't think I’ll make it too long on my own,
So dear God please, please answer my prayer
As dawn broke, an old man was walking down the beach
Hear our humble prayer, O God,
We entreat for them all thy mercy and pity
Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals
YOU ARE THE ANSWER
Good Morning, may we help you, is how we start our day.
They're female, mostly female, nine in this litter,
You bring LIFE to us and briskly come in.
You smile as you offer what to you seems a present.
Your gift is the third since our office just opened.
For a miracle - nine people to rush in
Our heart has grown heavy - our soul quite sad
Glad to relieve your careless mistake.
We're a shelter, a place for unwanted animals
Humane workers are desperate, weary, forlorn
This is not what we wanted to be.
The hurt that's inside because we do care.
Bouncy and cuddly, cute - so much more,
You left them for us to make the decision
Only one of of ten will be given a home
To a family who chooses, for whatever reason,
History repeats, for she will have been bred.
The face of each worker can plainly be read,
We feel that we love her more than you,
You point your finger and say, "Oh the shame.
Little do you realize how we try not to hate you.
You didn't stay till the end to see us weep
Euthanasia - a kind death, by definition.
But you go on in your merry ole way,
That you cause the problem - You are the SOURCE.
You give our best for the animals and for you
Love and concern carry us through every day
A DOG'S PRAYER FOR HIS OWNER
O Lord of humans, make my master faithful to his fellow men as I am to him.
A DOG'S PRAYER FOR HIMSELF
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music,
When it's cold and wet, please take me inside,
Keep my pan filled with fresh water,
And, beloved master, should the Great Master see
by Beth Norman Harris
A DOG'S BEST FRIEND
O Lord, don't let me once forget,
Help me learn to disregard
Show me how to be a buddy
Don't allow my pooch to munch
Shield my neighbor's cat from view,
Train me not to curse and scowl
Grant I shan't awake in fear
Give me patience without end -
by an unknown dog owner
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting heaven and earth.
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place.
There is only one thing missing.
You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet,
Be sure to look at my other pages of Dog Quotes:
Many of these I've been collecting for years.