In Memory of
Gwinn-Dell's Gle Mor Cairbre
The Dance
Looking
back on the memory of
the dance we shared, beneath the stars above.
For a moment all the world was right,
how was I to know that you'd ever say good bye?
And now I'm glad I didn't know
the way it all would end, the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
but I'd have had to miss the dance.
Holding you, I held everything,
for a moment, wasn't I the king?
If I'd only known how the king would fall
hey who's to say, you know I might have changed it all.
And now I'm glad I didn't know
the way it all would end, the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance,
I could have missed the pain,
but I'd have had to miss the dance.
Tony Arata
Cairbre was our big wheaten boy. He was one of my bottle babies from my first Wolfhound litter. He was gentle and loving. With his dark eyes and dark ears contrasting his light color, he was strikingly beautiful. An excellent mover, with power and drive, he turned heads when he floated by. Cairbre loved to put his head in a lap and look up with those dark eyes in total contentment. He earned us a visit from the Game Warden when a passerby saw him lounging up on our hill and turned us in for raising cougars. He is deeply missed.
Cairbre, age 8.5
