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ejano
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He was a gash and faithfu’ tyke

As ever lapt a sheugh or dyke.

His honest, sawnsie, bawsint face

Aye gat him friends in ilka place.

His breast was white, his towsie back

Weel clad wi’ coat o’ glossy black.

His gawcie tail, wi’ upward curl,

Hung ower his hurdies wi’ a swurl.

 

ROBERT BURNS.

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waranta putiya nayri

nara taymi krakapaka waranta-tu manta waranta tunapri nara

 

And their absence saddens us

But they will never be dead for us as long as we remember them.

 

Scotty waits at the Bridge; the day will come when you are reunited...

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  • 1 month later...
He was a gash and faithfu’ tyke

As ever lapt a sheugh or dyke.

His honest, sawnsie, bawsint face

Aye gat him friends in ilka place.

His breast was white, his towsie back

Weel clad wi’ coat o’ glossy black.

His gawcie tail, wi’ upward curl,

Hung ower his hurdies wi’ a swurl.

 

ROBERT BURNS.

 

I posted this poem back in December when I ran across it because it described my Scotty Bear so vividly and I didn't want to lose it. Tomorrow, is the anniversary of his death, and the pain of that awful day is still in my heart and glimpses of Scotty still linger in the corner of my eye. He was a very good dog, if a little impatient about having his picture taken :rolleyes: though he was quite helpful in planning my niece's wedding!

 

Thank you Bustopher for your kind words.

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THE LITTLE DOG ANGEL

 

High up in the courts of Heaven today

A little dog-angel waits.

With the other dogs he will not play,

But he sits alone at the Gates.

 

"For I know my master will come," says he

"And when he comes, he will call for me."

 

He sees the spirits that pass him by

As they hasten towards the throne,

And he watches them with a wistful eye

As he sits at the gate alone;

 

"But I know if I just wait patiently

That someday my Master will come," says he.

 

And his Master far down on the earth below,

As he sits in his easy chair

Forgets sometimes, and he whistles low

For the dog that is not there;

 

And the little dog-angel cocks his ears

And dreams that his Master's call he hears.

 

And I know when at length his Master waits

Outside in the dark and cold

For the hand of Death to open the gates

That lead to the Courts of Gold,

 

The little dog-angel's eager bark

Will comfort his soul while he's still in the dark.

 

~ Norah M. Holland, c.1870

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He was a awesome looking dog . Im so sorry for your loss , Liz. But its nice to have such wonderful memories of him that you can think back on. Celebrate the time and memories you had with Scotty.

 

Scotty and many others are waiting patiently at the bridge for us ...This gives me comfort to know we will see our cherished ones again , in Time.

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