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Tributes Bending a long-time prohibition in our writer’s guidelines, we want to read—and publish—your remembrances of beloved dogs past on TheBark.com.
Post your homage (or condolences) directly as a comment to a particular tribute below or send your story and photo directly to the webeditor@thebark.com. (Remember, brevity is the soul of wit.)
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by Kathleen Arenburg Poochie, my companion and best friend, came to me as a frisky, sweet and gentle eight years old dog. He had a mind of his own and found a way to let me know what he wanted, needed and when. Poochie would patiently wait by the couch for me to come and sit with him. Maybe he would get a belly rub if he were lucky. If it took too long for me to come, he would become vocal. We had our ways to communicate. The love ran deep between us and there was a bond not to be broken.
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by Emily Brown Slayer was attacked by two large dogs in a moments notice, and he didn’t make it. We buried him earlier this morning.
He was the first person to ever teach me about unconditional love. He would cry if we went in the bathroom and shut the door. He had to be with us no matter what. This dog would hug us. He would lean his two front paws on our shoulders, rub his face against ours, and genuinely embrace us. There’s no denying it for me - dogs are human. They can shut down just like humans do in the face of torture or become as sweet and loving as their owner. |
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by Veda Stanfield She was their baby in the beginning.
Big, sweet, pale blond, Golden dog baby.
They walked her twice a day,
took her to the dog park beach.
She was calm, laid back,
easy going, even as a puppy.
Ben said he valued sweetness
over intelligence in a dog.
And then the human puppies were born.
She quickly became just a dog.
She didn’t seem to mind the missed walks.
She wore a little dog trail to her allotted
poop spot at the far edge
of the new fenced yard. |
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by Kalli Davidson, 7th Grader The happiness, the laughs,
his barks, the baths
all he took with him.
The sorrow, the pain,
the tears, like rain,
left our hearts dull, lives dim.
The smiling eyes, the golden fur
tail wagging, heart pure
forever we remember him.
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by Joe Elliott He died peacefully cradled in my arms, the last sound he heard being my voice speaking to him softly: “It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay…” We had been inseparable for almost 20 years and in those years experienced a lifetime together. |
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by Cheri Fox Sebastian Dog.
He loved adventures and Christmas presents.
I loved the weight of his tiny body resting on my lap, and the sound of him walking on the hardwood floor in the morning.
He had a mind of his own, but knew when to listen.
Foster dogs now fill the space he once did, on an endless rotation as long as they need, using the things that once belonged to him.
He runs and plays in spirit along side them in our home, and he is never far from my thoughts and heart.
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by Karen Donnelly Draak I picked out a star the evening O’Henry crossed on December 7, 2011. Each night I step out on the porch to say goodnight to him. I still can’t do it without tears. Of course, sometimes the stars are not visible but I know “he is always there” just as I never had to turn around when he was alive, I just knew he was right behind me. I miss you sweet boy.
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by Natasha Wieschenberg Grief. One small word, one short syllable. Unfortunately, there’s nothing small or short about it. When it hits you, it’s the 18-wheeler you didn’t see coming in your blind spot that slams you so hard, you’re careened off your path before you even have a chance to comprehend what happened.
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