Stephen Wallace’s Reviews > Songs of Dogs, an Anthology > Status Update

Now he shares my board, and he owns my bed,
And he fairly shouts when he hears my tread.
Then if things go wrong, as they sometimes do.
And the world is cold, and I'm feeling blue.
He asserts his right to assuage my woes
With a warm, red tongue and a nice, cold nose,
And a silky head on my arm or knee,
And a paw as soft as a paw can be.

I've got a dog, and so, you see,
The boys all want to play with me;
They think he's such a cunnin' brute
(I mean, so cute).
That's why they leave their toys and games.
And run to us, and shout our names,
Whenever me and Pete arrive;
For I've
Got a dog!

- Ethel M. Kelley

Nice to see it has Rudyard Kipling's The Power of the Dog in it. This book is definitely going into my list of favorites. Here's a bit from it-

When the body that lived at your single will.
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone — wherever it goes — for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

A bit out of another poem today:

An' that dog's got the stayin' powers
A long sight more 'n the most o' men;
He 's just clean grit an' " stay there " mixed
An' don't ask no odds how an' when.

See them big slashes on his sides,
All runnin' ever' which-a-way?
Well, if it was n't fer them scars
I 'd not be top o' ground to-day.

I hear a bounce upon the bed,
I feel a creeping toward me — a soft head.
And on my face
A tender nose, and cold —
This is the way, you know, that dogs embrace —
And on my hand, like sun-warmed rose-leaves
flung. The least faint flicker of the wannest tongue — And so my dog and I have met and sworn Fresh love and fealty for another mom.

Hardwicke Drummond Rawnsley, 'We Meet at Morn'

Sometimes it blows and rains,
But still the six feet ply:
No care at all to the following four
If the leading two know why.
'T is a pleasure to have six feet, we think.
My little rough dog and I.

A bit from another poem:

HE'S JUST A DOG

Here is a friend who proves his worth
Without conceit or pride of birth.
Let want or plenty play the host.
He gets the least and gives the most
— He 's just a dog.

He's ever faithful, kind and true;
He never questions what I do.
And whether I may go or stay.
He's always ready to obey
— 'Cause he's a dog.

I already realize this is a book every dog lover should own. i want to read it slowly and perhaps share a bit per day. Here is a passage from the first poem:

I scan the whole broad earth around
For that one heart which, leal and true,
Bears friendship without end or bound,
And find the prize in you

it ends with if we could worship God as a dog-

And watch Him with a love as sweet,
My life would grow divine