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Published:September 4th, 2016 20:31 EST
The Story Behind the Poem - Snoopy

The Story Behind the Poem - Snoopy

By Ed Roberts

The Story Behind the Poem -  Snoopy "


Over the past few years I have written several articles that I have shared on The Student Operated Press web site titled The story behind the poem, where I have shared a poem I have written and then tried to explain to the readers what events inspired me find these special words. I have recently included several of these articles in my latest book The Traveler " which was released on last week.

Tonight I would like to share with you the story behind the poem Snoopy. "

First the poem ---




From a child

I watched her grow

She tested my patience

Especially during the early years

You know the ones

There wasn`t a kind of trouble

She couldn`t find


No matter how hard I tried

When she looked at me

With those big puppy-dog eyes

She always made me smile

Forget and forgive

Every time

She always asked so little

Just a bit of attention

Now and then

And was eager to give her full attention

And affection

No matter how tired she seemed to be

She grew old too fast

And then she was gone

We all have many friends in our lives

Some distant

Some close

But she will remain

Always in my heart

And though to some people

She was just a pet

An animal that walked on four legs

I know she waits for me

Forever patient

In a place far better than this

Because I`ve heard it said

All dogs go to heaven


Ed Roberts 11/1/2000



When I was growing up one of the animals that shared our household was a dachshund we named Snoopy. If you noticed I did not refer to her as a pet because to us she was so much more, she was simply a smaller version of a member of our family. She was black and tan and always had a certain spirit that sometimes you would love and sometimes would definitely test your patience. From an early age she also had a special sound she would make, no, it wasn`t a bark, we called it her brrrrrr. When she wanted your attention she would lower her head, wag her tail, and make this sound which at times almost seemed like a question more than a statement.

We took Snoopy almost everywhere we traveled. When I was growing up, my grandfather owned a fairly large cattle ranch and we would often spend several weekends there during the summers.

Snoopy of course, seemed to enjoy being there more than she did being at home. She would often jump out of the car when we got there and dart across one of the fields closest to the house, seemingly just to catch up on what all of the animals had been up to while we had been gone.

For an animal that stood only about 10 inches tall, she was fearless. I once saw her corner one of our Charolais bulls against one of the barns. He would try and stomp on her but she simply darted between his hoofs and nipped at his lower leg. He finally bellowed and ran across the field to flee this small black and tan demon. My grandfather and I both stood there and laughed for several minutes before he finally had me go out and save the poor bull from this tiny monster.

I remember on one occasion my brother was just barely able to catch her before she followed an armadillo down into its hole. She had chased it across a 40 acre field and desperately wanted to take her pursuit even into its fortress. I often reminded people dachshunds were actually bred as hunting dogs; they were often used to coax badgers out from their dens. Once for ounce, these dogs definitely have more spirit and fight than almost any other breed of dog.

When we were at home or at the ranch snoopy would often rotate sleeping in one of our beds, sometimes she seemed to try and hit all of them in one night.

I remember one day though, when I came home from school my mother and father got all of us kids together. They told us that Snoopy had jumped off one of the beds and had broken her back.

Yes, this is one of the risks a dachshund faces, especially when they get older. My parents had taken Snoopy to the vet but it was decided that she had to be put down. I think everyone in the family cried that night.

A few nights later I remember I was laying in bed, half awake, when I heard my bedroom door slowly partially open. (The hinges squeaked, so it was almost impossible to enter my room without making some kind of sound.) Moments later I felt a small pressure at the foot of my bed, one that I had become very accustomed to. I laid there for a couple of minutes, I have to admit, somewhat terrified by the possibility. I finally decided I had to sit up and look. No, I was alone in bed that night. Part of me thinks that in some way I might have frightened her, her spirit anyway; and part of me still wishes that somehow I could have just laid there longer and let her spend one more night in my bed.

I have always felt we never lose the ones we love, we simply carry their love with us inside wherever we go. I feel that this also applies to special animals that we decide to share our home with as well.

Ed Roberts 7/19/16