my son posted this on our family web page tonight. I had never seen it.
The Last Will and Testament of a Loved Dog
I, your beloved pet, because of of my years and infirmities is heavy upon me and I realize the end of my life is near, do hereby bury my last will and testament in the minds of my Masters. They will not know it is there until after I am gone. Then, rememberbing me in their loneliness, they will suddenly know of this testament, and I ask them to inscribe it as a memorial to me.
I've got little in the way of material things to leave. Dogs are wiser than men. They do not set great store upon things. THey do not waste their days hoarding property. They do not ruin their sleep worrying about how to keep objects they have, and to obtain the objects they have not. There is nothing of value I have to bequeath except my love and my faith. These I leave to all those who have loved me, to my Masters, who I know will mourn me the most, and all others...if I should list all those who have loved me it would force my Masters to write a book. Perhaps it is vain of me to boast when I am so near death, which returns all beast and vanities, but I have always been an extremely lovable dog.
I ask my Masters to remember me always, but not to grieve for me too long. In my life, I have tried to be a comfort to them in time of sorrow, and a reason for added joy in their happiness. It is painful for me to think that even in death I should cause them pain. Let them remember that while no dog has ever had a happier life ( and this I owe to their love and care for me) now that I have grown old and weak, and even my sense of smell fails me so that a rabbit could be right under my nose and I might not know, my pride has sunk though I still try. It is time I said goodbye, before I become too sick a burden on myself and on those who love me. It will be a sorrow to leave them, but not a sorrow to die. Dogs do not fear death as men do. We accept it as a part of life, not as something alien and terrible which destroys life. What may come after death, who knows? I would like to believe with those of my fellow species who are devout, that there is a Paradise where one is always young and full-bladdered; where all the day one dillies and dallies with an amorous of hours; where rabbits that run fast but not too fast (like the hours), where each blissful hour is mealtime; where in long evenings there are a million fireplaces with logs forever burning, and one curls oneself up thinking about his days on earth and the love on one's masters.
I am afraid this is too much for even such a dog as I am to expect. But peace, at least, is certain. Peace and long rest for weary old heart and head and limbs, and eternal sleep in the earth I have loved so well. Perhaps, after all, this is best.
One last request I earnestly make. I have heard my Master say, "When our beloved pet dies, we must never have another dog. I love him so much I could never love another" Now I would ask them, for the love of me, to have another. It would be a poor tribute to my memory never to have another dog again. What I would like to feel is that, having once had me in the family, now they cannot live without a dog! I have never had a narrow jealous spirit. I have always held that most dogs are good. Some dogs are better, such as my breed. So I suggest my breed as my successor. He can hardly be as well bred or well mannered or as distinguished and handsome as I was in my prime. My masters must not ask the impossible. But he will do his best, I am sure and even his inevitable defects will help by comparison to keep my memory green. To him I bequeath my collar and leash. He can never wear them with the distinction I did, walking around the block or park, all eyes fixed on me in admiration, but again I am sure he will do his utmost not to appear a mere dog. Out in the , he may prove himself quite worthy of comparison, in some respects. He will, I presume, come closer to rabbits that I have been able to in recent years. And, for all his faults, I hereby wish him the happiness I know will be his in my old home.
One last word of farewell, dear Masters. Whenever you visit my grave, say to yourselves with regret but also with happiness in your hearts at the remembrance of my happy life with you: "Here lies one who loved us and whom we loved." No matter how deep my sleep, I shall hear you, and not all the power of death can keepmy spirit from wagging a grateful tail!!