I wish someone had given little Jesus a dog, as loyal and loving as mine; to sleep by His manger and gaze in His eyes, and adore Him for being Divine. As Our Lord grew to manhood, His own faithful dog would have followed Him all through the day; while He preached to the crowds and made the sick well, and knelt in the Garden to pray. It is sad to remember that Christ went away, to face death alone and apart; with no tender dog following close behind, to comfort its Master's heart. And when Jesus rose on that Easter morn, how happy He would have been; as His dog kissed His hand and barked its delight, for the One who died for all Men! Well, the Lord has a dog now; I just sent Him mine, the old pal so dear to me. And I smile through my tears on this first day alone, knowing they're in eternity. (This is in memory of my Beloved little girl, Pixie.) This poem was sent to us by our Vet the day after we had to have her put to sleep.