A lover may give you a fleeting kiss, Soft as the breeze, a moment of bliss. A friend may offer a warm embrace, Comforting arms, a kind, familiar face.
But a dog—ah, a dog gives something more, No need for words, no keeping score. He lays his soul at your weary feet, In every wag, his heartbeat sweet.
He asks no promise, expects no part, Only to gift you his loyal heart. Through storm and sun, in joy or pain, He’ll stand by you in loss or gain.
No truer love you’ll ever find, So pure, so patient, so unconfined. For in his eyes, you’ll see the start— Of a bond unbreakable, heart to heart.
He didn’t grasp the words they said, No charts or scans ran through his head. But something shifted in the air— A silence thick, a weight, a prayer.
The morning walks no longer came, The voice he loved was not the same. No laughter danced across the floor, No hand reached down like times before.
So he stayed. Closer than breath, quiet as light, Through the trembling hours, through the night. His eyes held questions he never voiced, But his heart made an unwavering choice.
And then one day, the room was bare, His person gone—just empty air. But he believed, he still held fast, Love doesn’t flinch, it only lasts.
They let him in. A mercy, small. A door ajar. He found the scent, he knew by star And climbed into that sterile space As if it were a sacred place.
No bark, no cry, no restless stir, Just heartbeat next to heartbeat’s blur. And suddenly, the machines grew still, As love did what no drug or skill Could hope to do. The doctors knew— This dog had work that he must do.
He didn’t seek a single treat. No ball, no leash, no praise, no seat. He needed only one command: To stay. To press against a hand.
For sometimes love is not a sound. It’s not a leap, it’s not a bound. It’s presence, steady as a drum— A quiet vow: I will not run.
He stayed. Until the end, until the light Grew soft and dim and slipped to night. And even then, he wouldn’t roam— For where his human lay… was home.
“You see, boy,” the old man said with a sigh, A faraway glimmer still deep in his eye, “Once in a man’s life, if he’s lucky, he’ll find A love that stays etched in the heart and the mind.
Not the kind folks write in a song or a book, But the kind that you feel with one single look— The kind that don’t speak, but somehow still knows, That walks by your side wherever life goes.
I found it once, long before you were born, In a shaggy ol’ mutt I rescued one storm. She weren’t much to see, not fancy or grand, But Lord, she was loyal and sweet as the land.
She’d wait at the door, rain or shine, night or day, And follow me close every step of the way. Knew what I felt ’fore I’d utter a word— A love like that, boy, it’s felt more than heard.
Now some men get two shots, but most get just one, And when that love leaves, well, the shine leaves the sun. But once is enough, if you hold it just right— Don’t blink, don’t waste it, don’t lose it to night.
So listen real close and remember this true: When love lays its hands on the soul inside you, Don’t ever take it for granted, not once— That kind of love don’t come back more than once.”
When storms arise and skies turn gray, And words feel empty, lost, astray, Don’t search for phrases, don’t explain, Just sit with them and share the pain.
No need for sermons, loud or wise, No fixing tears, no analyzing cries. A silent presence speaks the most, A steady hand, a gentle post.
For in the weight of grief and strife, It’s love that softly mends a life. Not perfect answers, bold or grand, But simply being—hand in hand.
In sorrow deep, he sat alone, A heart so heavy, a world unknown. Roscoe, young, with eyes so wide, Had lost the love that once stood by.
No food, no light, no will to play, His spirit fading day by day. The hands that tried could not erase The emptiness he could not face.
But fate had plans, unseen, untold, A weary dog, so frail, so old. Lost and wandering, tired and weak, Yet carrying hope they both would seek.
A chance encounter, a bond so true, A love that sparked, a life renewed. No longer lost, no longer lone, Together now, a place called home.
They run, they play, they swim with glee, Two souls once broken, now set free. Roscoe finds joy in his friend so dear, A love that wipes away each tear.
Though life may take, it also gives, In friendship’s warmth, the spirit lives. For hearts can heal, and love will mend, When found within a faithful friend.
On frozen peaks, where cold winds wail, A mother goat began her frail tale. New life arrived, so soft, so small, But frost could claim them, one and all.
From a village near, a shepherdess came, Her heart ablaze, her soul aflame. With tender hands and a strength so rare, She bore the mother through icy air.
Beside her walked a faithful friend, A loyal dog, whose love would not bend. With careful steps, it bore the child, A fragile life through mountains wild.
The photo froze this fleeting grace, A moment born of time and place. Compassion shone through frost and storm, Humanity’s light, so pure, so warm.
For in their care, the world can see, The boundless depths of empathy. A goat, her kid, a dog, and she Together forged a victory.
My mind still talks to you, In whispers soft, in skies so blue. Each memory, a fleeting flame, Calling out your cherished name.
My heart still looks for you, my dear, In every shadow, far and near. The echo of your gentle laugh, A melody that splits my path.
But my soul knows you’re at peace, Your pain and struggles now released. Among the stars, your spirit soars, Through endless skies, through open doors.
Though loss has carved this aching space, I feel your love, your warm embrace. In dreams, in whispers, you remain, A bond unbroken by life’s refrain.
Their lives are brief, a fleeting spark, A lantern’s glow against the dark. You know the pain, it lies ahead, The day you’ll grieve, the tears you’ll shed.
Yet still, you open wide your heart, Accepting joy with every part. A wagging tail, a gentle paw, Their boundless love, their only law.
For dogs are honest, pure, and true, They live for now, for me and you. No promises of endless days, Just stolen moments, fleeting praise.
And so, you laugh, you chase, you run, You share their light beneath the sun. You love them knowing all too well, That time will toll its final bell.
But maybe in this fragile bond, We glimpse a truth to dwell upon: That love is worth its weight in pain, A fleeting joy, a sweet refrain.
For every loss, a lesson taught, To cherish life, the love it brought. A dog’s short life, a tender cost, A bittersweetness never lost.
So hold them close, these gifts divine, Their time is brief, but wholly mine. No lifelong ties, no grand charade Just love, unbroken, till they fade.
Created by MarkWaldrop
Inspired by Dean Koontz - The Darkest Evening of the Year
There’s no love like the love that a dog has for its boy, Pure and steadfast, a source of endless joy. By the country gate, in the soft twilight glow, The dog waits patiently, tail wagging slow.
Falling autumn leaves whisking in the wind, A golden dance where the day begins to dim. The air carries whispers of footsteps near, And the dog’s ears perk with a joy sincere.
Every rustle, every sound, a promise of return, As the fading sun sets the fields to burn. His eyes gleam bright, filled with trust so true, For a boy’s love is the world he knew.
When at last, the boy comes down the lane, The dog leaps forth, all heart, no restraint. Together they walk, the bond fully complete, Two souls united, where love and loyalty meet.
So by the country gate, through seasons and time, The dog will wait, his devotion sublime. For there’s no love like the love that a dog has for its boy, A love eternal, untouched by life’s ploy.
Christmas comes with a gentle glow, A season of wonders, hearts to know. A time to believe, to hold, to see, The magic of love in you and me.
The twinkle of lights, the carols sung, The joy of gifts for old and young. Yet deeper still, a truth appears, The power of miracles through the years.
A babe in a manger, humble and small, Bringing a hope that transcends us all. A love so pure, it lights the way, Through winter nights and every day.
So let us believe in the season’s charm, In hearts that heal, in hands that warm. For Christmas reminds us of what’s divine: The miracle of love, your heart, and mine.
