TISSUE ALERT:
A Dog’s Plea
by Beth Norman Harris
Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in
the world is more grateful for kindness than the
loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I
might lick your hand between blows, your patience
and understanding will more quickly teach
me the things you would have me learn.
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 the sound of your footstep falls upon
my waiting ear. Please take me inside when it is cold
and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed
to bitter element. I ask no greater glory than the privilege
of sitting at your feet beside the hearth.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell
you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food so 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, my friend, when I am very old and I no longer
enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make
heroic efforts to keep my going. I am not having any
fun. Please see to it that my life is taken gently.
I shall leave this earth knowing that with the last breath
I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands.