GoD And DoG by Wendy J Francisco

[greenvet-hanoi]

GoD And DoG by Wendy J Francisco

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Over the years many people have said that d-o-g is God spelled backwards. Wendy Francisco has created this sweet little song about it and I thought you might like it!

Please click for listening:

GoD And DoG by Wendy J Francisco

This 2-minute video is a beautiful song composed and sung by Wendy J Francisco about dogs and God.

Friendship.


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[greenvet-hanoi]

A letter to God about our dog

A letter to God about our dog

By Unknown author*​

The day after our dog, Abbey, died, my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked me if we could write a letter to God, so that when Abbey got to heaven, He would recognize her. I told her we could, so she dictated these words:

Dear God,
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog, even though she got sick.
I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and swim. I am sending a picture of her, so when you see her You will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.
Love,
Meredith
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We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith, and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then, Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven.
That afternoon, she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.
Yesterday, I found a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed to Meredith in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Fred Rogers (of “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood“) called “When a Pet Dies.”

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Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey and Meredith, and this note:

Dear Meredith,
Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.
Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.
Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you.
I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I’m easy to find. I am wherever there is love.
Love,
God
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* Note from Daniela Caride, The Daily Tail’s publisher:

I found this story on the Internet, and I’m not sure if Joy Scrivener wrote these exact words (that’s why the “unknown author” byline).
I did confirm that this story happened with the Scrivener family and their 14-year-old black and white mutt named Abbey in 2006, in San Antonio, Texas. According to My San Antonio newspaper, Abbey was older than the combined ages of their three children.
That day, Joy walked with Meredith to the Brook Hollow post office, where the girl dropped the letter into the mail box.
Joy thought about asking at the post office who sent the package but decided not to.
“I kind of like not knowing,” she told the My San Antonio columnist. “I don’t know who took the time to do it, but it was an angel.”

Source: A letter to God about our dog

 

[greenvet-hanoi]

Letter to my dogs

Letter to my dogs


December 25, 2009

Contributing writer

Unknown author


"The Hustler" by Arthur Sarnoff



Dear Dogs,
The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog’s butt. I cannot stress this enough. It would be such a simple change for you.
When I tell you to move, it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two dogs in the way.
The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food.
Please note that placing a paw print in the middle of my plate does not stake a claim for it becoming yours, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn’t help because I fall faster than you can run.
My compact discs are not miniature frisbees.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years, canine attendance is not mandatory.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed. Look at videos of dogs sleeping — they can curl up in a ball. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. Also, sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but doggy sarcasm.
And do not think I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Sincerely,
Your overwhelmed owner
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