Dear Friend...

Today i lost a friend. A dear friend. I remember, that from the first time she saw me, how she trusted me and loved me. I never forget that and that's why i love her so much that i can't even describe. I wasn't there today to say goodbye to her, but my mind was all day with her, from the time she sat outside with the wind kissing her face till the time she closed her eyes. Sometimes people don't get why i love her so much and that's because my dear friend was a dog. The reason i love her so much is amazingly good described by George Graham Vest:

"The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that came in encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master if he were a prince. When all other friends desrt he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. "

With that said. I want to thank Golfo from the bottom of my heart for everything's done for me and my friends all those wubtastic years and leave with a beautiful poem by Noah M. Holland. I'll keep you in me heart for ever till we meet again!


" E "


~ A Little Dog Angel ~

High up in the courts of heaven today
a little dog angel waits;
with the other angels he will not play,
but he sits alone at the gates.
"For I know my master will come" says he,
"and when he comes he will call for me."


The other angels pass him by
As they hurry toward the throne,
And he watches them with a wistful eye
as he sits at the gates alone.
"But I know if I just wait patiently
that someday my master will call for me."


And his master, down on earth below,
as he sits in his easy chair,
forgets sometimes, and whispers low
to the dog who is not there.
And the little dog angel cocks his ears
and dreams that his master's voice he hears.


And when at last his master waits
outside in the dark and cold,
for the hand of death to open the door,
that leads to those courts of gold,
he will hear a sound through the gathering dark,
a little dog angel's bark.