Angels

  • Leonberger Heaven

    Dedicated to Aja Marie, and all the future angels of Good Life


    Take it for granted, sometimes

    That our best friends will meet us

    One day,

    On the other side of the bridge.


    But how can it be, all dogs arrive

    In the same paradise?

    No, I think a Husky heaven

    May be a Chihuahua hell.

    But, for my best friends

    I know what will await them.


    Awakened by a kind touch

    Stroke, soft downy coat

    A morning kiss, right on the snoot.

    A matching lick of velvety tongue

    The first action of the day

    A long lounging stretch,

    A yawn to welcome in clean air,

    A shake down the length of a long body


    Look out the window

    A full fresh foot of pure snow has fallen

    Just begging for some pawprint decoration

    Further, a lake glistens

    In the cold sunlight

    No, it never freezes, no matter

    What demands the mercury makes.

    Around the water, tasty green grass

    Just perfect for a little grazing.


    All this, at the ready, and a favorite person

    Accompanying to jump and shout,

    Kick the ball and play tug,

    Throw a snowball, toss a stick in the water.

    Maybe only for a moment,

    Maybe for the whole afternoon.


    She can playbow to the beautiful proud boys

    Who now come to play,

    Flirt with one, or maybe all.

    Running around, stretching strong muscles

    Feel the elated exhilaration of cold air

    Pumping through hale and healthy lungs.


    Though it never made it through

    Her happy panting smile

    Pain is a distant whisper, an echo of time

    Long past and best forgotten.

    Now, here in this place, every prance

    Every wag is a genuine dance

    Of perfect contentment.


    There is a waterbowl whose supply never dips.

    Endless cookies, treats, and an edible assortment,

    To make kings and queens envy.

    People food and dog food draw no distinction.

    And, of course, there are no tummy aches.


    When the day pulls to a close,

    There is a cold floor, as soft as a bed

    Which never warms, stays perfectly frosty.

    And only dreams with happy endings

    Make paws twitch and lips mumble.


    Morning comes,

    A full fresh foot of pure snow has fallen…


    ~ AB Garabedian 2011