A Wonderful poem for all Animal Lovers

Discussion in 'Chit Chat' started by mysticbrit, Oct 3, 2008.

  1. mysticbrit

    mysticbrit New Member

    This afternoon my hubby and I were watching an old Jimmy Stewart movie, Call Northside 777, and we got to talking about how much we loved Jimmy.

    From there we both remembered the night he read a poem on the Johnny Carson Show. It was about his dog named Beau.

    You can find the segment on UTube but I've copied the poem and will post it here for all of you who have loved and lost a beloved pet.

    by Jimmy Stewart

    He never came to me when I would call
    Unless I had a tennis ball,
    Or he felt like it,
    But mostly he didn't come at all.

    When he was young
    He never learned to heel
    Or sit or stay,
    He did things his way.

    Discipline was not his bag
    But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
    He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
    And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

    He bit lots of folks from day to day,
    The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
    The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
    He said we owned a real man-eater.

    He set the house on fire
    But the story's long to tell.
    Suffice it to say that he survived
    And the house survived as well.

    On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
    He was always first out the door.
    The Old One and I brought up the rear
    Because our bones were sore.

    He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
    What a beautiful pair they were!
    And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
    They created a bit of a stir.

    But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
    And with a frown on his face look around.
    It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
    And would follow him where he was bound.

    We are early-to-bedders at our house--
    I guess I'm the first to retire.
    And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
    And get up from his place by the fire.

    He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
    And I'd give him one for a while.
    He would push it under the bed with his nose
    And I'd fish it out with a smile.

    And before very long
    He'd tire of the ball
    And be asleep in his corner
    In no time at all.

    And there were nights when I'd feel him
    Climb upon our bed
    And lie between us,
    And I'd pat his head.

    And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
    And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
    And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
    And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
    and I think I know the reason why.

    He would wake up at night
    And he would have this fear
    Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
    And he'd be glad to have me near.

    And now he's dead.
    And there are nights when I think I feel him
    Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
    And I pat his head.

    And there are nights when I think
    I feel that stare
    And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
    But he's not there.

    Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
    I'll always love a dog named Beau.
  2. rockgor

    rockgor Well-Known Member

    A very unsophisticated and sentimental verse.

    Wonder why it made me cry.

  3. mysticbrit

    mysticbrit New Member

    I was trying to read the verses to my hubby and had to stop several times to mop up.

  4. Rafiki

    Rafiki New Member

    Crying here, too.

    At first was thinking, Jimmy, you shoulda trained your dog but now I'm just crying.



    Taking my heart in my hands I went over to Youtube to watch Jimmy read it. I thought it would make it worse but I had to see it. It's beautiful and moving and funny and sad and I'm really glad I saw it.

    [This Message was Edited on 10/04/2008]
  5. mysticbrit

    mysticbrit New Member

    I knew your's would be one of the hearts touched.

    It's funny, I had the same initial reaction you did, "What a naughty dog". Then I kept reading and the tears started.

    We just realised that we've now had our dog for 4 years this month, which means that he's now 14. Although he just had a really good check-up we know our time together is growing shorter.

    Oops, more tears here.

  6. Rafiki

    Rafiki New Member

    Already crying with you!


    It never fails to amaze me that we enter into this ultimately heartbreaking relationship again, and again, and again even when we know how completely torn up we will be if things follow the natural course.

    It is such an honour and a joy to have a friend who is a dog (or cat, or horse, or bird) that it is worth all the pain. That never ceases to amaze me.

    I just pasted Kipling's THE POWER OF THE DOG, aka Don't Give Your Heart to a Dog to Tear, but we can only handle so much crying so I erased it again.

    You may have noticed I'm not much of a cyber hugger but I just felt myself give you a hug. Hope that's ok with you.

    Peace to our glorious hounds,

  7. Rafiki

    Rafiki New Member

    Cate posted a deeply beautiful poem on the thread about my friend the dog photographer. I think it would resonate deeply with you, too.

  8. mysticbrit

    mysticbrit New Member

    I just went to the poem Cate posted, thank you for bringing it to my attention. The author truly touched my heart.

    As I child I grew up in an old farmhouse, raised by my grandparents from the time I was 4-months old.

    Throughout those wonderful years I eventually adopted dozens of dogs. People would dump their unwanted dogs, driving them into the country where they were sure they'd never find their way "home" again.

    Many of the dogs were either old and ill, or pregnant. Somehow they found our house and I would take them in, attempt to heal their wounds (we had no money for vets) and do my best to find homes for the puppies.

    At one point we had as many as 20 dogs, in all stages of health and wellness.

    What you said in your earlier post, about allowing us to open our hearts yet again to another pet reminded me of those early days.

    Our dogs weren't allowed in the house but they had the barn and various other outbuildings for shelter. Each one fit into the pack in their own way. Some were agressive in the beginning but learned quickly that food and shelter depended on their willingness to fit into the exisiting family.

    Many earned their keep by ridding us of vermin. Others protected us from strangers (like anyone in their right mind would attempt to break into a house surrounded by a Heniz 57 variety of mutts). A few attempted to herd our two cows, much to the shock of our docile bovine.

    I wouldn't even attempt to guess how many dogs have passed thru my life but I know that our current 14-year-old baby will have to be our last. This makes me so incredibly sad but neither my hubby or I have the necessary health to provide a home to another one.

    It just makes our time with our Tucker all the more special.

    Sending you peace and wellness,
  9. Rafiki

    Rafiki New Member

    What a beautiful description of your early life. It made me think of Dylan Thomas' FERN HILL. I felt I could see you golden.

    How wonderful to have such rich early experience in life. It is interesting to consider how impoverished a life of plenty in a sterile, amusement filled environment can be. Now, I am reminded of Gerald Durrel's incredibly rich but genteely hardscrabble life in Greece. Oh to be broke in Greece back in the day.

    But now, Nancy, as I contemplate your current situation, I am unutterably sad. Perhaps, in part, because I know my 10 year old friend will not... cannot bring myself to spell it out. The last dog I had to say goodbye to was 17. Seven years from now seems like no time at all. I cannot imagine beyond him nor do I want to... I feel my heart bend to breaking.

    But, I think we must allow that, no matter where we are or how we are doing, life may bring a dog into our hearts. Too often I have heard the frail or the truly elderly say "No more dogs." only to find themselves, once again, owned by a little dog. My ex Aunt-in-law said no more dogs at 83 but now, 8 years later, shares her home with a 15 yr. old teeny-tiny foundling called, of course, Rocky.

    Weeping again! oh dear, oh dear!

    What is it about dogs?!

    Peace to you and all you love,

  10. Greenbean7

    Greenbean7 New Member

    This just shows how much we love them, even when they are bad!

    I copied and pasted this into an email for my sister. I told her at the beginning that the dog died so she would be prepared. She said "great, now I'm crying at work!" I told her I cried before I got here because I had to come to work!

    Now I'm gonna go find the other poem and make her cry somemore! Isn't that what younger sisters do?