She was just my dog.

She Was Just My Dog

She was my other eyes that could see above the clouds;
my other ears that heard above the winds.
She was the part of me that could reach out into the sea.

She had told me a thousand times over that I was her reason for being;
by the way she rested against my leg;
by the way she wagged her tail at my smallest smile;
by the way she showed her hurt when I left without taking her along
(I think it made her sick with worry because she was not along to care for me).

When I was wrong, she was delighted to forgive.
When I was angry, she clowned to make me smile.
When I was happy, she was joy unbounded.
When I was a fool, she ignored it.
When I succeeded, she bragged.
Without her, I am only another person.
With her, I was all powerful.

She was loyalty itself.
She had taught me the meaning of devotion.
With her, I knew a secret comfort and a private peace.
She had brought me understanding where before I was ignorant.
Her head on my knee could heal my human hurts.
Her kisses on my tears washed away my bad feelings.
Her presence by my side was protection against my fears of dark and unknown things.
She had promised to wait for me…whenever…wherever…in case I need her.
And I expect I will — as I always have — she was just my dog.

By Unknown Author

Artist Steve Sanderson

Text and image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/531188960392510/posts/1718009488377112/

2 thoughts on “She was just my dog.

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