There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and from women to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
O 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 devotion 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 or so years that nature permits
Are closing in asthma or tumors or fits
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal injections, or loaded guns.
Then you will find--its your own affair
But--you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will
When the whimper of welcome is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You still discover how much you can dare
And will give your heart for a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way
When it comes to burying two-legged clay.
Still love is not given, but only lent,
At compound interest with increasing per cent.
Though I have no firm figures, I firmly believe
That the longer we've kept 'em the more do we grieve;
Though when debts come due, for right or for wrong,
Then a short term loan seems as bad as a long--
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?