Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.
— Anatole France
The Dog to His Master
Let me not be left behind the idea
Of soul’s awakening. Love is only true
When writ large upon the vast galleria
Of every spoken language, tongue or hue:
O yes! That love is only fixed when barked
And snarled within the tempest’s heart;
The goal of every dog of worthy mark
To help his Master learn this sacred art.
That is, the shades of vast affection’s hues
Are only gained mature when dogs complete
And fill each corner of the blessed view
That makes the human’s God-like love replete.
These thoughts are proper, right, and honest said,
And live within the living and the dead.
