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Salty- A tribute in Retrospect


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Salt, You died long ago....when I was young, away from me.


I found you at the high school, remember by the old wool mill? You followed me home and that was the old days so on that country school bus you and I went home together.


You helped me at our old ranch. You warned me of the rattlesnake, that Pop then shot and ate.


You were a good dog, maybe not the best dog with stock, something had happened to you? Maybe thats why you ran away from some other farm? Or were you dumped?


But I loved you.


When Pop got sick we were forced to sell the ranch, we had to give all our animals away.


The man that bought the ranch kept you and I greived and grieved for I missed you. But I couldn't help you Salt, I couldn't help my family or my poor sick father.



When Cap came into my life, many years later, sitting there looking at him I called your name and little Cap turned and gave me your look.


So we come around. Thank you, because that brought me comfort and healing.


Good Dog, Salt.....walk on.

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High up in the courts of Heaven today

A little dog-angel waits.

With the other dogs he will not play,

But he sits alone at the Gates.


”For I know my master will come”, says he,

”And when he comes, he will call for me.”


And his Master far down 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 his ears

And dreams that his Master's call he hears.


And I know when at length his Master waits

Outside in the dark and cold

For the hand of Death to open the gates

That lead to the Courts of Gold,


The little dog-angel's eager bark

Will comfort his soul while he's still in the dark.

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Thank you, When I wrote that I was surprised after so many years how painful leaving that dog was. Your words are comfort too!





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I was surprised after so many years how painful leaving that dog was.

Twenty years now,

Where'd they go?

Twenty years,

I dont know.

I sit and I wonder sometimes

Where they've gone.


And sometimes late at night,

When I'm bathed in the firelight,

The moon comes calling a ghostly white

And I recall,

I recall...


(from "Like A Rock" by Bob Seeger)

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