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Back to Touch of Home...Texas Style
Do not break my spirit with a stick,
for though I should lick your hand between blows,
your patience and understanding will more
quickly teach me the thing you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's
sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce
wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon
my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside,
for I am now a domesticated animal,
no longer used to bitter elements.
And I ask no greater glory than the
privilege of sitting at your feet beside the
hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather
follow you through ice and snow than rest
upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all
the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted
worshipper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water,
for although I should not reproach you were it dry,
I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food, that I may stay well,
to romp and play and do your bidding,
to walk by your side, and stand ready,
willing and able to protect you with
my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the great Master see
fit to deprive me of my health or sight,
do not turn me away from you.
Rather hold me gently in your arms as
skilled hands grant me the merciful boon
of eternal rest --- and I will leave you
knowing with the last breath I drew,
my fate was ever safest in your hands.
This was written by : Beth Norman Harris and
it was put in Dear Abby's column some time
ago.
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