This poem was sent to me by my father-in-law, following the notice about Dusty’s euthanasia today. It’s so lovely I thought I’d share it with you. The author, Christopher Tatchell Winter, was my husband’s 2X great grandfather. I will check, but I believe it would have been written around 1900. (Ignore the way WordPress mangled the spacing in the first stanza).
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Dear, dear little Jack, my companion & friend
Few now are my years, soon cometh the end
And I thought to have had you until I depart
But no more will I lessen the pain of my heart
My dear little dog, so faithful & true
I never shall know another like you
Much that passes for love may be but a cheat
But your love was constant & full & complete
No more will you meet me & run half a mile
To leap in my arms & my sorrow beguile
If but for a moment it then would depart
And sunshine & gladness would enter my heart
Oh, dear little Jack, I call you in vain
But why should I sorrow, why should I complain
It can’t bring you back, I know that is true
And yet all the same I will sorrow for you
And now at my door, you rest in your grave
And over it many a flower shall wave
In winter the snow on it softly shall fall
But no more will you answer & come to my call
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The sketch of a Winter dog, presumably Jack:

