This was the last picture we took of her. She had just gotten her new haircut.
How she loved to be pampered!
She would lie on her back and let you brush her little belly.
She used to come running when she heard me open my guitar case.
She would bark when I opened the case, and watch me play.
THE LITTLE DOG ANGEL
Norah M. Holland
High up in the courts of Heaven today
A little dog angel waits,
With the other angels she will not play,
But she sits alone at the gates;
"For I know that my master will come," says she:
"And when he comes, he will call for me."
She sees the spirits that pass her by
As they hasten towards the throne,
And she watches them with a wistful eye
As she sits at the gates alone;
"But I know if I just wait patiently
That some day my master will come," says she.
And her master, far on the earth below,
As he sits in his easy chair,
Forgets sometimes, and he whistles low
For the dog that is not there;
And the little dog angel cocks her ears,
And dreams that her master's call she hears.
And I know, when at length her master waits
Outside in the dark and cold
For the hand of Death to open the gates
That lead to those courts of gold,
The little dog angel's eager bark
Will comfort his soul in the shivering dark.