Page 7 - Italian American Herald - July 2019

ITALIAN-AMERICAN HERALD
IT’S ALL GOOD
thing I remember most was when we would announce that it was bedtime, he would run into our bedroom and go under our bed as if to hide. He knew he had to sleep in his cage, in another room, but he figured it was worth a shot to try to stay up, just like any little kid would do.
The joy and the blessing lasted for 16 years.
We made the extremely difficult but proper decision to put Inky to sleep two days after his 16th birthday. Kipling’s poem filled my head as we took our last ride together to the Mount Laurel animal hospital. With all three of us petting him and with the support of a truly sympathetic staff, he quietly and painlessly left this earth. Kipling questioned why one should “give your heart to a dog
to tear.” If you have a dog that you love and enjoy, you already know the answer.
If heaven is as great as I think it is, God has to have a section for us to throw a ball or two or maybe even leave some old business papers lying around! IAH
Charlie Sacchetti is the author of two books, “It’s All Good: Times and Events I’d Never Want to Change,” and “Knowing He’s There: True Stories of God’s Subtle Yet Unmistakable Touch.” Contact him at worthwhilewords21@gmail.com
JULY 2019 | ITALIANAMERICANHERALD.COM 7
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 Byakickintheribsorapaton 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
The Power of the Dog
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