by Heather Richardson / Heather Richardson, Copyright 2010

To My Wiley Flemmers

A year ago a call came through;
The kind of call that leaves me blue;
Someone gave up their long time friend;
In the shelter he sits, a common trend;
This special boy needed a home;
I already have three; let me get on the phone;
One after another, they all said No;
He’s old and sick, not much life to go;
I don’t have room, but give him to me;
Our pack now grew, no longer three;
He can’t seem to breathe and his lungs are weak;
The x-ray revealed, his future is bleak;
I promised this dog right then and there;
You are part of our pack and for you I will care;
Meds everyday seemed to help his cause;
Squeaking pink bunny without a pause;
My heart grew with love for this simple boy;
His soul was pure and gave so much joy;
His disease grew worse and his lungs gave in;
His soul was strong but he still couldn’t win;
I knew from the start he wouldn’t stay long;
But my heart is broken now that he’s gone;
Everyone says you made the right choice;
Free him of pain and be his voice;
While solace is found that he’s sick no more;
The pain is now in my body’s core;
The house is too quiet and the pack is blue;
But Flemmers must know our love is true;
They say I’m his angel for giving him care;
But to take that credit I wouldn’t dare;
When decisions were needed and full of fear;
I prayed to God to make it all clear;
His answer was bold and lifted the fog;
An angel he sent in the form of this dog;
I learned my purpose on that fateful day;
Help the forgotten, the old and the stray;
I’ll never forget my old Wiley man;
I’ll see you at the bridge when God says I can.


Heather Richardson