Thunder by Roslyn Friesen / Roz, Chance, Dennis, Figaro, Paisley, Mugz

Dogs Don’t Have Souls, Do They?

I remember bringing you home. You were still young but very well behaved with your pride and sense of maturity already in tact.

You adjusted very well to your new surroundings, as if you knew this was the home you were meant to be part of. Once in a while, you’d let out a little yelp just to let me know this was your territory.

Making a mess of the house and chewing on everything in sight became a passion, and when I scolded you, you just put your head down and looked up at me with those innocent eyes, as if to say, “I’m sorry, but I’ll do it again as soon as you’re not watching.”

As you got older, you protected me by looking out the window and barking at everyone who walked by. When I had a tough day at work, you would be waiting for me with your tail wagging, just to say, “Welcome home. I missed you.” You never had a bad day, and I could always count on you to be there for me.

When I sat down to read the paper or watch TV, you would hop on the couch looking for attention. You never asked for anything more than to have me pat your head so you could go to sleep with your head over my leg.

As you got older, you moved around more slowly. Then, one day, old age and disease finally took its toll, and you could barely stand on those once strong and muscular legs anymore. I knelt down and patted you lying there, trying to make you young again. You just looked up at me as if to say that you were old and tired and that after all these years of not asking for anything, you had to ask me for one favour.

With tears in my eyes, I drove you one last time to the vet. One last time, you were lying next to me. For some strange reason, you were able to stand and walk in the hospital; perhaps it was your unwavering sense of pride.

As you crossed over the bridge, you stopped for just an instant, turned your head and looked into my eyes as if to say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Through my haze of tears I thought, “No, thank you for taking care of ME.”


You are forever in my heart, Thunder-man.
21, Feb 2004
Roslyn Friesen