The loss of dear friends

Recently there were two losses at our home in Los Angeles, two of our very loving and precious pets taken from us in a matter of days, one had a stroke and the other heart disease. Even stranger yet we had a new friend who lost his Great Dane and a friend of mine, Dr. Milt Owen’s sister lost her precious Biscuit, all in a matter of days. For all of us it seemed like a never ending cascade of grief and pain.

Well, an old friend of mine who is a wonderful human being and pet lover heard of my loss and sent me a poem. The poem she sent was moving and hit home, I would like all of you who visit to read what my friend Donna DErrico sent to me. Donna is one of the warmest and sincerest people you will ever meet. Donna is as real as you can get, and reading this poem will make it even clearer to you the kind of person she is, and that says it all, “Kind.”

Donna, on behalf of my family and myself, thank you for sharing this wonderful poem.

John, Chris, Mike & Jonathan


With Spring in the air and our boy at our side,
in search of a dog we went for a ride
to the animal shelter..the “pound”, if you will.
It wasn’t that far–just over the hill.

He took his time looking, for he said he’d know
the right dog when he saw it, and then we could go.
But he didn’t find one that he thought was quite right.
And so we decided to call it a night.

Just then Rhyan’s eyes lit up like a light,
“How about that dog over there–she’s just right!”
There was an old dog being taken away.
He said he’d like to see her, if it was okay.

He went over to her and she wagged her bobbed tail.
He could see she was old, and a little bit frail.
“She needs me,” he said, “and her eyes are so kind.
I’d like to have her, if you don’t mind”

It was then that we realized where she’d been being led.
We looked at the worker and she nodded her head.
“Well it looks like today is her lucky day.”
She handed Rhyan the leash and sent us on our way.

Bone loved her new home–lots of kids, land, and love.
And we loved her, too, like a gift from above.
Whenever we would walk out on our property
Bone walked out in front, her mind on safety.

She always watched over the kids like a mom
with a sense for the things to protect them from.
Her eyes were not sharp, and her hearing was bad
but a keener sense of smell was not to be had.

You always knew when Bone was around
’cause her nails on the floor made a clicking sound.
You knew she was coming down the hall for a drink
(or sometimes for a snack, which were kept by the sink.)

We always felt safe with old Bone around,
and no gentler dog could ever be found.
She was there to watch all our kids grow
but as they got bigger, our Bone got more slow.

We’d go out for our walks, but she would not go.
She preferred now to sleep on her soft pillow.
But no matter how tired or how weak she felt
that bobbed tail would wag, and our hearts she would melt.

At first it was tremors, then seizures came.
Bone no longer could bark, but she still knew her name.
Toes still clicked down the hall when she wanted a snack
which we knew she loved, so we never held back.

She slept more and more. She could see less and less.
She had accidents now, but we’d clean up her mess
with a tear, for we knew the day neared
that we’d be without her. The day that we feared.

The shelter had told us that they didn’t know
but that she must have been about twelve years or so
when we got her. So if that was true,
then Bone was now eighteen and her days left were few.

We got her some pills that could make her last days
more comfortable, and in less of a haze.
Every day after school Rhyan would go to her
and lay with her awhile, gently stroking her fur.

I think she must have, quite deliberately,
waited until Rhyan was not home to see
her draw her last breath, then peacefully go
as she lay sleeping on her favorite pillow.

We buried her here where she loved to run
and play with the children out in the warm sun.
I can still see her there, keeping her watchful eye
on the children she loved from up there in the sky.

I’ve found it so hard to let go of her
the sound of her toes, the smell of her fur.
Oh, what I would give to see her again .
Goodbye, Bone. We miss you. Sleep well in heaven.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top