Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.
Until one has loved an animal a part of one's soul remains unawakened.
If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.
Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.
What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions; they pass no criticisms.
Dogs have given us their absolute all. We are the center of their universe. We are the focus of their love and faith and trust. They serve us in return for scraps. It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made.
Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.
The misery of keeping a dog is his dying so soon. But, to be sure, if he lived for fifty years and then died, what would become of me?
If there is a heaven, it's certain our animals are to be there. Their lives become so interwoven with our own, it would take more than an archangel to detangle them.
Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.
The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.
I guess you don't really own a dog, you rent them, and you have to be thankful that you had a long lease.
A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter's drawing near. His head is within our hand in his old way.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
The better I get to know men, the more I find myself loving dogs.
Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate.
Sometimes losing a pet is more painful than losing a human because in the case of the pet, you were not pretending to love it.
There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and woman to fill our day; But when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers & Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.