Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Rage or Tears? Tears win.

"We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own live within a fragile circle easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan."
-Irving Townsend

A Dog's Prayer*

Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.

Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things 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 worshiper.

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.

--Beth Norman Harris

I should post angry posts about crackers, or PZ's opinion of said cracker, with which I completely agree, or perhaps about Bill Donohue's opinion of PZ's opinion, or maybe aboutdeath threats against PZ because of his opinion of the cracker.

Instead, I sit all verklempt, having read about the death of Orac's beloved Echo.

I sit, with a tear-drenched t-shirt sleeve, feeling very sorry for Orac and his family, remembering all the pets I've had the privilege of knowing, even down to those silly hamsters. Maybe boring "odes to my pet" posts will follow.

I miss my:

* disclaimer: I in no way endorse or encourage prayer or a belief in a "Great Master," however, the rest of this is spot-on.

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