The Best Place To Bury A Dog
But there is one best place to bury a dog.
If you bury him in this spot, he will come to you when you call—come to you over the grim, dim frontiers of death, and down the well remembered path to your side again. And though you call a dozen living dogs to heel they shall not growl at him nor resent his coming, for he belongs there.
People may scoff at you, who see no lightest blade of grass bent by his footfall, who hear no whimper, people who may never really have had a dog. Smile at them, for you shall know something that is hidden from them.
The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.
The above is a piece I’ve had in my files for a long time. I’ve always loved the sentiment. The copy in my files was credited to author and noted sports fisherman, S. Kip Farrington Junior (1905?-1983). But in trying to verify that for this page, I found that the actual author is Ben Hur Lampman (1886-1954). The piece comes from his column in the Portland Oregonian.
July 3rd, 2014 at 7:02 pm
True.
July 4th, 2014 at 2:01 am
And reminiscent of Hofstadter’s idea about how “echoes” — maybe “reflections” is better metaphor — of others live on in our own minds.
July 4th, 2014 at 6:06 am
Yes, Nellie (my just departed Border Collie), is reflecting in me all the time. There’s no philosophising about the feelings, they are real enough, and most welcome. Sadness only comes at the idea of loss. Thanks WS; truly.
October 11th, 2014 at 9:06 am
‘Liked’ again this day: October 11th. 2014. ⭐
October 11th, 2014 at 11:37 am
It’s a great way to look at it, isn’t it!
October 11th, 2014 at 12:10 pm
Yes; I often get ephemeral flashes of imagination that Nellie is just beside me, with a look, a familiar movement or some such. They’re sort of a transparent overlay upon what’s real in visual awareness, so to speak.
October 11th, 2014 at 12:44 pm
Yeah, I felt that way walking in the park Thursday.