Monday, December 17, 2007

Eulogy To A Small Friend

Today, I start writing the story of a small but great friend, in fact he was four legged. This is a story for all who love dogs and others who do not.



Death , Be not proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

-Holy Sonnet by John Donne (1572-1631)

Two years on I can still remember this little devil, as I would call him many times, as if it all happened yesterday, everything comes back - picture after picture, frame after frame like a movie, but in stark black and white. This book is dedicated to this little fella my dog’s first born son – Field Marshal Jango aka Chinoo.

(No offence meant to military personnel)


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home