At House 173, our days were shaped by three remarkable companions: Bruegger, Linus, and Charlie. This poem is a quiet tribute to their wisdom, laughter, and boundless love - the kind that turns a house into a home.
Everyone thinks they have the best beagle in the world, and none of them are wrong. – Anonymous
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I have walked with many companions.
Some spoke in high offices, some sang in the cities -
but none spoke the simple language
my dogs knew by heart.
They needed no grammar for loyalty,
no training for joy.
They looked once,
and the day was already forgiven.
Bruegger, the thinker,
nose tilted to the invisible,
philosopher of every breeze.
He studied the world in long pauses...
each scent a question,
each sound a mystery worth sitting with.
He showed me the holiness of noticing,
the sacred quiet beneath every ordinary hour.
Linus, pure beagle and pure delight,
carried the sun inside his chest.
He was laughter in motion,
soft ears and wide grin,
equal parts clown and confidant.
He knew when to nudge,
when to curl close,
when to fill the room with that impossible joy
that only a dog who trusts the world can give.
And Charlie, the Basset-beagle blend,
the one made of music and movement -
his voice a hymn, his heart a drum.
He greets the dawn like it’s personal,
rushes love into every corner of the house.
At night, he presses close,
a warm, breathing certainty
that devotion has a pulse.
Each in his turn walked beside me,
each taught me the same unteachable thing:
that love is not improved by words,
that presence is its own language.
I have watched them sleep,
their ribs lifting and falling
like tides that answer only the moon,
and thought: here is devotion,
not in the temple,
but in the breathing of a friend.
They never hurried the sun,
never doubted the meal or the hand.
They lived the lesson I keep forgetting -
that to be alive is already enough.
Now the house remembers them:
Bruegger’s patient silence,
Linus’s soft laughter,
Charlie’s bright voice and constant warmth.
The floorboards keep their rhythm,
the air keeps their scent.
If there are better people on earth,
I have not met them.
But I have known these -
furred, faithful, unashamed of love,
and they have made me
a better kind of human.
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About this Poem:
This poem is a celebration of Bruegger, Linus, and Charlie...three extraordinary dogs who were the truest companions and teachers of love. Written in a quiet, reflective Whitman-inspired style, it honors the joy, wisdom, and warmth they brought to our home at House 173.
GBS
2025
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