Last night another beloved and furry little face turned its sweet and freckled muzzle toward that secret pet door in the Pearly Gates. I expect Saint Francis is chief of the welcoming committee, though so, too, are several kitty cat pals of the past…and probably Sue Batten.
I’ve heard people say – and so have you – that dogs are “just like family.” This is not at all true……they’re not like family, they are family.
In any case, before you dig into your kibble at supper tonight, paws… and raise a glass to the honor of Cleo “Freckle Face” Maldonado, one of the Great Dogs of the Western World, and beloved companion to the Maldonado clan and various hangers-on.
************
`CLEO
As puppies they come make a home in our hearts,
Until that sad time when they rip them apart.
We know they will leave us for places unknown,
When their sweet little spirits one day will have flown.
But, first, they invade both our homes and our lives,
Inserting themselves between husbands and wives…
They commandeer space in our homes and our beds.
They steal our soft hearts and make mush of our heads.
We teach them to know quite a regal existence,
And then we’re appalled when they beg with persistence…
For just one more cuddle, or dog toy or treat,
Or their right to a share of whatever we eat.
Our children are safer, because they’re around,
And no better playmates could ever be found,
For every good dog needs its own little boy,
Or girl, to complete its abundance of joy.
They live where we live and they’re always on guard;
They keep a sharp eye on those too near the yard.
They’re wrecks when we leave them, there’s great aggravation:
But when we return, there is true jubilation.
It’s “Fourth of July” and there’s nothing to lack:
“I don’t know where you’ve been,
But I’m sure glad you’re back!!!”
But, time rolls along with it’s triumphs and strife:
We almost forget there’s a cycle to life….
And so, we must savor each moment because….
The years take their toll…
Father Time always does.
They grow a bit slower, their muzzles turn white;
We try to ignore that their eyes aren’t as bright….
Their dear little lives are so painfully brief,
Our zeal to hang on may postpone future grief;
But they know their purpose far better than we,
To be our companions both noble and free.
Unconditional love and unlimited smiles
Are ours as they join us for just a few miles
On the journey of life where we all plod along.
Then they’re time is up, and they have to move on.
With a satisfied sigh a dear doggy departs,
Hoping there’s now enough room in our hearts,
An empty, an achingly raw bit of space,
That can only be filled by a new fuzzy face.
For all through the world, one correctly supposes,
Wait soft little pups and their damp little noses.
Some day, down the road,
You’ll be smitten and then…
Sweet cycles of love start all over again.
Our pets come and go, and they leave us bereft,
And, it’s simply because they don’t wish to be left.
So, Cleo has flown, as she must to the sky;
Yet her freckle-faced spirit still lingers close by….
Though sadness and grief will remain quite a while,
You’ll think of the gift of her love……
And you’ll smile.
R.I.P.