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Zapata's Howl

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Maul Dog:
This is one of my favorite stories. I'm reminded right now of my Chinese Sharpei, Moctezuma. I miss him. He was a spoiled dog that only understood Spanish. His favorite appetizer was a tortiila before eating his food. He did not like running into rotts or bigger dogs during our walks. There were times were he would get into fights around my old neighborhood because people didn't believe in leashing their dogs or locking them up in their yard. At 11yrs old he became sick and vets could not identify the problem. In 2011 I went to my first Open Gathering. I had to board Moctezuma. The day of my departure I got a phone call from the boarding place. They weren't sure Mocte was going to live through the weekend. I almost didn't leave. But I left it in God's plans. Upon my return from California,  I found Mocte had waited for me. He was no lobger able to walk. I brought him home and sat with him for awhile. I knew the moment had come after months of seeing him deteriorate. I took him to the vet. I held him as he laid his head on my lap and went to sleep. I felt his Spirit leave his body and pass through me. My father had passed in 2009, and I know they are together, running forever free.

Crafty_Dog:
I needed this tonight , , ,

Crafty_Dog:
TTT

Crafty_Dog:
Bringing this TTT for a friend , , ,

Crafty_Dog:
THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find - it's your own affair, -
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!),
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone - wherever it goes - for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear!

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent,
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long -
So why in - Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

- Rudyard Kipling

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