JUST FOR DOG LOVERS

The music is "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables - no reason except it is one of my very favorite songs and from the first Broadway play Lara took me to see in NYC.




Mr. Bruce, he's waiting for me somewhere, i know.




I got this email from a friend yesterday. you may have already read it...i know these things circle the globe quite speedily, but i just love it.

and as i've said before
"if dogs don't go to heaven, then i want to go where they go."

EMAIL
Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. She dictated and I wrote:

Dear God,
Will you please take special care of our dog, Abbey? She died yesterday and is in heaven. We miss her very much. We are happy that you let us have her as our dog even though she got sick. I hope that you will play with her. She liked to play with balls and swim before she got sick. I am sending some pictures of her so that when you see her in heaven you will know she is our special dog. But I really do miss her

Love,Meredith Claire
P S: Mommy wrote the words after Meredith told them to her.
We put that in an envelope with two pictures of Abbey, and addressed it to God in Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith stuck some stamps on the front (because, as she said, it may take lots of stamps to get a letter all the way to heaven) and that afternoon I let her drop it into the letter box at the post office. For a few days, she would ask if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.
Yesterday there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch. Curious, I went to look at it. It had a gold star card on the front and said "To Meredith" in an unfamiliar hand.

Meredith took it in and opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers,
"When a Pet Dies" Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God, in its opened envelope (which was marked Return to Sender: Insufficient address) On the opposite page, one of the pictures of Abbey was taped under the words "For Meredith" We turned to the back cover, and there was the other picture of Abbey, and this handwritten note on pink paper:
Dear Meredith,
I know that you will be happy to know that Abbey arrived safely and soundly in Heaven! Having the pictures you sent to me was such a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.
You know, Meredith, she isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me--just like she stays in your heart--young and running and playing. Abbey loved being your dog, you know.
Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets!-- so I can't keep your beautiful letter. I am sending it to you with the pictures so that you will have this book to keep and remember Abbey.
One of my angels is taking care of this for me. I hope the little book helps. Thank you for the beautiful letter. Thank your mother for sending it. What a wonderful mother you have! I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I am in heaven but wherever there is love, I am there also.

Love,
God and the special angel who wrote this after God told her the words."

As a parent and a pet lover, this is one of the kindest things that I've ever experienced. I have no way to know who sent it, but there is some very kind soul working in the dead letter office. Just wanted to share this act of compassion
_____________________
THERE ARE WONDERFUL CARING PEOPLE IN EVERY LINE OF WORK.

you may want to go read another blog now, cause, wouldn't you know it, i wrote a poem about Mr. Bruce.

THE TALENTED MR. BRUCE


He could bound straight up,
Four feet in the air, ten times in succession.
He could croon along with any song,
A canine Caruso.

He could demolish a pillow
In ten minutes flat.
He knew a bed, not the floor,
Was for sleeping.

He could see ghosts
From the hallway door.

He’d rather mouth a hand than be petted.
I never left a room that he didn’t follow,
Nuzzling my fingers.

He’d crawl up my lap, stare in my eyes,
To beg a bite of food,
Or just steal it right off the plate,
Then run like hell.

He’d race through the house
With a toy in his mouth
To entice us to romp.

One soft, pale hair is sometimes seen still
And moves me to tears.
He filled my dreary days with life and joy.

He died as he lived,
Running full out.
geni 2000