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, 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 dig 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.
“While shooting a movie in Arizona, Stewart received a phone call from Dr. Keagy, his veterinarian, who informed him that Beau was terminally ill, and that [Stewart’s wife] Gloria sought his permission to perform euthanasia. Stewart declined to give a reply over the phone, and told Keagy to ‘keep him alive and I’ll be there.’ Stewart requested several days’ leave, which allowed him to spend some time with Beau before granting the doctor permission to euthanize the sick dog. Following the procedure, Stewart sat in his car for 10 minutes to clear his eyes of tears. Stewart later remembered: ‘After [Beau] died there were a lot of nights when I was certain that I could feel him get into bed beside me and I would reach out and pat his head. The feeling was so real that I wrote a poem about it and how much it hurt to realize that he wasn’t going to be there any more.'”
Watching our new puppy warms my heart,
but I still feel the ache over the loss of the ones before him.
Perhaps our heart gets bigger over time
because we need so much room for all of the ones we love
two-legged and four-legged.
A heartfelt post. Thank you so much for sharing Jimmy Stewart’s poem and video. Something I had never heard.
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Me neither. What a treasure!
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How incredibly beautiful to hear this lovely poem in the wonderful author’s voice. I am so moved. Our dogs are beloved and when they finally leave us, we are changed people. Hopefully for the better.
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Our pets leave us with so many memories don’t they?
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Beautiful words, your and the story of Stewart and Beau. Weeping now remembering my Schnauzer dog now passed….
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I am so sorry, I did not mean to make you cry.
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All good. Stories about dogs are something that always do that!
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I can never hear this without tears. What a privilege it is to share our lives with animals who give unconditional love.
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I never heard it before. I went from laughing, to sobbing.
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Mixed emotions can be ever so complex!
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Such a stirring poem with glimpses of humour crammed in between. Immaculately articulated.💐
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At the beginning I smiled, at the end I sighed. Mixed emotions, brilliantly delivered in just a few lines.
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Oh my goodness this brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful piece. Thanks so much for sharing!
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Thank you for reading and listening.
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You’re welcome!
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I Love This, thanks!
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You are so welcome. I am glad you like it.
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I suppose we should not be surprised he should read so well – a very well written poem – as is your last verse
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Thank you, Derrick. I never heard him read either, he just had a voice that draws you in.
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This heartfelt poem echoes in the hearts of so many of us who have loved an animal … and another one … our hearts expand to fit them all – just as they do to accommodate children and grandchildren if we are fortunate to be blessed with them. I hope your puppy will bring you both great joy and comfort for a long time to come.
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They always say your heart breaks, but that’s not true, it expands, perhaps that’s the growing pain we feel?
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Miss that kind gentle voice.
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I do too. One of a kind.
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