Cybercom Cafe

by Vicki Ramirez

Today, Feb. 20, would have been my little Alex's 8th birthday. Alex went
to the Rainbow Bridge on July 5, 1995. He had a history of back
problems, and his final attack left him paralyzed from the ears down.

Even though I am no longer owned by a dachsie, I signed up for this
newsgroup because I still have dachsie fever! I long for the day when
another one will deign to share our home. We have a basset hound who's a
dear, but it's just not the same!

Alex was a smooth red mini, a little on the large side for a mini. Even
though the world revolved around him (in his opinion), his chief concern
was pleasing me. He was happiest on my lap, surveying his kingdom. He
was a loving friend, ready to comfort me in the hard times, laugh with
me in the good times, and give heck to the mailman whenever he dared
venture on Alex's porch. During our six years together, we moved 8 times
(to 7 different towns and 3 states), but we had one constant: each
other. When I married in 1992, Alex graciously accepted my husband
(though the relationship was one of a bit of mutual distrust!)

We love and miss you, Alexander Underfoot!

Contributed by Richard Neville

He's just my dog.

He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds;
my other ears that hear above the winds.
He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea.

He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being:
by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at
my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without
taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along
to care for me.)

When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns
to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded.

When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags.
Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful.
He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion.
With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought
me understanding where before I was ignorant.

His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side
is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things.

He has promised to wait for me...whenever...wherever--in case I need him.
And I expect I will--as I always have.

He is just my dog.

This piece originally appeared in Tears & Laughter by Gene Hill. Copyright Gene Hill. All rights reserved.

Death, when you come to me, tread with a footstep
Light as the moon's on the grasses asleep,
So that I know not the moment of darkness,
Know not the drag and the draw of the deep.

Death, when you come to me, let there be sunlight,
Dogs and dear creatures about me at play,
Flowers in the fields, and the song of the blackbird--
Spring in the world when you fetch me away!

John Galsworthy

the wind blows now a little colder.
You gaze into the empty air
and look for me, but I'm not there -
I'm in heaven and I watch you,
and I see the world around you too.

I see little souls wearing fur,
souls who bark and souls who purr
born unwanted and unloved -
I see all this and more above -
I watch them suffer, I see them cry,
I see them lost, I watch them die.
I see unwanted thousands born -
and when they die, nobody mourns.

These little souls wearing fur
(Some who bark and some who purr)
are castaways who - unlike me -
will never know love or security.
A few short months they starve and roam,
Or caged in shelters - nobody takes home.
They're special too (furballs of pleasure),
filled with love and each one, a treasure.

My pain and suffering came to an end,
so don't cry for me, my person, my friend.
But think of the living - those souls with fur
(some who bark and some who purr) -
And though our bond can't be broken apart,
make room for another in your home and your heart.

God saw that she was getting tired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around her,
and whispered "Come with Me."
With tearful eyes we watched her
suffer
And saw her fade away.
Although we couldn't bear to lose
her,
we could not bid her to stay.
A golden heart stopped beating;
A golden friend was laid to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He sadly takes the best.

©1997 Therese Williamson

The runt that noone wanted,
Your tail a curley-que,
The moment that I held you
In my heart I knew.

A friend for life to cherish,
Days filled with laughs and play --
Although you're gone some time now
It feels like yesterday.

We had fourteen years together,
You were sunshine in my rain.
For this, I thank you Miisha --
Your memories ease my pain.

by Nancy Groth

Ebony was our hero, a world-class gentleman,
a friend to all, a traveling fellow,
he had a particular regimen.
First stop in the morning was at Claire's.
Liver sausage was his aim.
Then on to the other neighbors, a friendly greeting was the game.

With noble brow and jaunty gait
he was welcome everywhere.
All who met him he did captivate
with his gentle ways and savoir faire.
Of massive proportions, a Belgian Shephard, he,
from a long line of ancestors with purest pedigree.

Bred to pull milk carts in old world towns,
hard working beasts of burden had been their renown.
But our Ebony had a life of pleasure and ease,
boat rides in the summer and naps in the cool breeze, a swim now and then
and friends galore,
plenty to eat, who could ask for more?

If anyone was in trouble or ill,
he would lie on their doorstep until
things got better. He seemed to sense
when comfort was needed and his condolence.
When HE wanted attention or sympathy
a limp on one front paw it would guarantee.

He made one serious mistake
which proved it was a complete and utter fake.
The next time we noticed, the OTHER leg was lame.
But knowing Ebony we went along with the game.
It was all for the attention he craved.

Sylvia and Chuck were his actual owners
but I hope I may say, without pulling a boner,
that we all felt we owned a part of Ebony
and shored in the enjoyment of his company.
The time came when we had to say farewell to our friend.
And so, sadly, my eulogy to Ebony is at an end.

The neighborhood has never been quite the same
but he lives on in our hearts and will always remain.

by Albert Schweitzer

Contributed by Dick Neville

Hear our humble prayer,
O God,
for our friends, the animals, especially for those who are suffering;
for any that are lost or deserted
or frightened or hungry.
We entreat for them all
Thy mercy and pity,
and for those who deal with them,
we ask a heart of compassion
and gentle hands and kindly words.
Make us, ourselves,
to be true friends to animals
and so to share
the blessings
of the merciful.