bestofwordsanimals01.html

God is the final authority here, and I thank Him for you,
and allowing me to share with you in this way.
Lord, please continue to use me to do Thy Will.
Continue to bless me that I may be a blessing to others.
Keep me strong that I may help the weak and unsaved.
Keep me uplifted that I may have words of encouragement for others.
May the Holy Spirit always continue to guide me.
I ask for your continued prayers, and please pray for each other

Bunny's Words © 1999-2004 All rights reserved

Gard61@aol.com

Song Playing is: "Bless The Beasts And The Children" by The Carpenters

Music is for evaluation purposes only.
If you like the music, please support the artists by purchasing the CD.

I absolutely do not receive any monetary gain for anything.
Everything I do is freely given, as it was freely received.

I want to give Thanks to God,
for all the special pets He has sent me to love in my lifetime....
especially my best friend....Harly

Franciscan Pet Blessing
Blessed are You, Lord God,

maker of all living creatures. You inspired St. Francis to call all animals his brothers and sisters. We ask You to bless these animals. By the power of Your love, enable them to live according to Your plan. Amen.

Oct. 6 is the Feast of St. Francis and the day for blessing all our pets--
May God Bless your puppy and keep him safe and well all during this year and for many years to come.

Most people love animals, but it seems folks that are ill or lonely, share a closer bond with our beloved friends, ...be they dogs, cats, birds or animals of a different sort. I certainly don't know what life would be like without my puppy

Old Shep

When I was a lad and Old Shep was a pup ...
Over hills and meadows we'd stray.
Just a boy and his dog,
We were both full of fun.
We grew up together that way.

I remember the time at the old swimmin' hole,
When I would have drowned beyond doubt.
Shep was right there to the rescue he came
He jumped in and then pulled me out.

As the years fast did roll,
Old Shep he grew old.
His eyes were fast growing dim.
And one day the doctor
looked at me and said,
"I can do no more for him, Jim."

With hands that were trembling,
I picked up my gun
And aimed it at Shep's faithful head.
I just couldn't do it, I wanted to run.
I wish they would shoot me instead.

He came to my side, and looked up at me.
And laid his old head on my knee
I stroked the best friend that a man ever had,
I cried so I scarcely could see.

Old Shep he knew he was going to go,
For he reached out and licked at my hand.
He looked up at me just as much as to say,
We're parting, but you understand.

Old Shep he has gone
Where the good doggies go,
And no more with Old Shep will I roam.
But if dogs have a heaven,
There's one thing I know ...
Old Shep has a wonderful home.

************************

Struggling upward from the darkness,
I burst the bonds of sleep to wake in dusty dawn.
Stifling a cry left from my dream, I look for you.
The ground where you should lie is empty,
Bereft of your small form and gentle spirit,
As is my heart.
I curse forgetfulness of sleep
That, each waking day, this discovery awaits me:
You are forever gone, and dreams of you are all I'll ever hold.
A cry tears from my throat and rends my breast.

************************

A calico kitten is a patchwork of love, happiness, fun and grace,
all stitched together in a beautiful coat of colors.

If A Pet Could Say Farewell

I will always remember and treasure the day you chose me to be yours.
I was one of the many pets you came to see,
and I hoped I was making a good impression.
I was so elated when you selected me to share your home and heart.
I knew from that very moment on, I was so lucky to be owned by you.

While I was growing every day, maturing little by little,
you fed me...you watered me...you trained me.
I loved it when you shared your precious time playing with me.
I eagerly anticipated each morning when I licked your face.
It was my desire to awaken you
before that dreadful alarm clock would rudely rouse you from sleep.
I felt it was my duty because I was so lucky to be owned by you.

I made my share of mistakes.
There were times I erred on your carpet.
There were moments when the "animal beast"
buried deep in me somehow encouraged a little destruction of the furniture.
I'm sorry. You scolded me. You understood and forgave me.
Could you see the devotion to our home? I was so lucky to be owned by you.

I wondered why you took me on those visits to see the veterinarian.
I never fully understood those examinations, vaccinations,
blood tests done to check for heartworms
or fecal tests that always seemed to be necessary.

You knew what was best for me and I learned to trust your judgment.
I couldn't remember much about what occurred
during my neutering surgical visit but somehow I came to realize
you left me there because you respected me
and wanted to ease the animal kingdom's vast overpopulation problem.
I was so lucky to be owned by you.

The days you called holidays were always such fun.
Presents for everyone in our family even me!
How did you ever guess those toys and treats were just what I wanted?
After the visitors left our home, could you feel my love as I sat by your side?
I was so lucky to be owned by you.

These days, I haven't felt as well as I used to in my prior days.
My bones are quite stiff and sore.
The pills you gave me helped for a while
but my time here with you is drawing to an end.
It's extremely hard to walk and I long for my rest.

As we ride to the vet hospital,
one final time, I see your tears and oh,
how deeply I feel your love.
It was such a wonderful life here with you.
Remember me and know that when you pass your love
onto another pet, you honor my memory.
I want you to be as happy as you have made me.

I am sending you a final message as I look up at you
with my big brown eyes and lick your hand for the last time.
Thank you for everything. I love you.
I was so lucky to be owned by you.

************************

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal who has been especially close to someone dies,
that pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends
so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food and water and sunshine,
and our friends are warm and comfortable.

Animals who were ill and old are restored to health and vigor;
those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again,
just as we remember them from days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one thing:
they miss someone very special to them; the person they left behind.

All of the animals run and play together,
but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.
His bright eyes are intent; his eager body quivers.

Suddenly he begins to break away from the group,
flying over the green grass,
his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you
and your special friend finally meet,
you cling together in joyous reunion,
never to be parted again.

Happy kisses rain upon your face;
your hands again caress the beloved head,
and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet,
so long gone from your life
but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together...

William Britton

"UGLY....."

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was.
Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in the world:
fighting, eating garbage, and, shall we say, love.

The combination of these things, combined with a life spent outside,
had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye
and where the other should have been was a gaping hole.
He was also missing his ear on the same side,
his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time,
and had healed at an unnatural angle,
making him look like he was always turning the corner.
His tail had long ago been lost leaving only the smallest stub
which he would constantly jerk and twitch.

Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby, striped type,
except for the sores covering his head, neck,
even his shoulders with thick yellow scabs.
Every time someone saw Ugly, there was the same reaction.
That's one UGLY cat!

All the children were warned not to touch him,
the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down,
squirted him when he tried to come into their homes,
or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.
Ugly always had the same reaction.
If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there,
getting soaked until you gave up and quit.
If you threw things at him, he would curl up his lanky body
around feet in forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running,
meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands,
begging for their love.
If you ever picked him up,
he would begin immediately suckling on your shirt,
earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's huskies.
They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled.
From my apartment I could hear his screams,
and I tried to rush to his aid.
By the time I got to where he was laying,
it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.

Ugly lay in a wet circle,
his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape,
a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front.
As I picked him up and tried to carry him home,
I could hear him wheezing and gasping,
and could feel him struggling.
It must be hurting him terribly, I thought.

Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear.
Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying,
was trying to suckle my ear.
I pulled him closer to me,
and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head,
then he turned his one golden eye towards me,
and I could hear the distinct sound of purring.
Even in the greatest pain,
that ugly battle-scarred cat was asking only
for a little attention,
perhaps some compassion

At that moment, I thought Ugly was the most beautiful,
loving creature I had ever seen.
Never once did he try to bite or scratch me,
or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way.
Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside,
but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards,
thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray
could so alter my opinion about what it means
to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.
Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion
than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could,
and for that I will always be thankful.
He had been scarred on the outside,
but I was scarred on the inside,
and it was time for me to move on
and learn to love truly and deeply.
To give my total self to those I cared for.
Many people want to be richer, more successful,
well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be like Ugly.

A Stray Dog

Dear God please send me somebody who'll care!
I'm tired of running, I'm sick with despair.
My body is aching, it's so racked with pain
And Dear God I pray as I run in the rain.
That someone will love me and give me a home
A warm cozy bed and a big juicy bone.
My last owner tied me all day in the yard
Sometimes with no water and God that was hard!
So I chewed my leash God and I ran away
To rummage in garbage and live as a stray.
But now God I'm tired and hungry and cold
And I'm so afraid that I'll never grow old.
They've chased me with sticks hit me with stones
While I run the streets just looking for bones!
I'm not really bad God, please help if you can
For I have become just a victim of man!
I'm wormy dear God and I'm ridden with fleas
And all that I want is an owner to please!
If you find one for me God, I'll try to be good
I won't chew their shoes, and I'll do as I should.
I will love them, protect them and try to obey
When they tell me to sit, to lie down or to stay!
I don't think I'll make it too long on my own
Cause I'm getting so weak and I'm oh so alone.
Each night as I sleep in the bushes I cry
Cause I'm so afraid God, that I'm gonna die!
I've got so much love and devotion to give
That I should be given a new chance to live.
So Dear God please, please answer my prayer
And send me somebody who will really care,
That is, Dear God, if You're really there!

************************

Rites of Passage

Some of the most poignant moments I spend as a
veterinarian are those spent with my clients assisting the
transition of my animal patients from this world to the
next. When living becomes a burden, whether from pain or
loss of normal functions, I can help a family by ensuring
that their beloved pet has an easy passing. Making this
final decision is painful, and I have often felt powerless
to comfort the grieving owners.
That was before I met Shane.
I had been called to examine a ten-year-old blue heeler
named Belker who had developed a serious health problem.
The dog's owners - Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little
boy, Shane - were all very attached to Belker and they were
hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was
dying of cancer. I told the family there were no miracles left for
Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for
the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and
Lisa told me they thought it would be good for the four-
year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt Shane
could learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as
Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm,
petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he
understood what was going on.
Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without
any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while
after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact
that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I
know why."
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his
mouth next stunned me - I'd never heard a more comforting
explanation.
He said, "Everybody is born so that they can learn how
to live a good life - like loving everybody and being nice,
right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, animals already
know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

************************

A Man And His Dog

A man and his dog were walking along a road.
The man was enjoying the scenery,
when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying,
and that the dog had been dead for years.
He wondered where the road was leading them.

After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall
along one side of the road.
It looked like fine marble.
At the top of a long hill it was broken by a tall arch
that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it,
he saw a magnificent gate in the arch
that looked like mother-of-pearl,
and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold.

He and the dog walked toward the gate,
and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.

When he was close enough, he called out,
"Excuse me, where are we?"

"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?"
the man asked.
"Of course, sir. Come right in,
and I'll have some ice water brought right up."
The man gestured, and the gate began to open.
"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?"
the traveler asked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought a moment and then turned back
toward the road and continued the way he had been going.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill,
he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate
that looked as if it had never been closed.
There was no fence.
As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside,
leaning against a tree and reading a book.

"Excuse me!" he called to the reader.
"Do you have any water?"
"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there."
The man pointed to a place that couldn't
be seen from outside the gate. "Come on in."
"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.

"There should be a bowl by the pump."
They went through the gate,
and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump
with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the bowl
and took a long drink himself,
then he gave some to the dog.
When they were full, he and the dog
walked back toward the man who was
standing by the tree waiting for them.
"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.
"This is Heaven," was the answer.
"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said.
"The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."
"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates?
Nope. That's Hell."

"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"
"No. I can see how you might think so,
but we're just happy that they screen out the folks
who'll leave their best friends behind."

************************

And Adam said,
Lord, when I was in the garden,
You walked with me everyday.
Now I don't see You anymore.
I am lonesome here and it's difficult for me
to remember how much You love me.

And God said,
No problem! I will create a companion for you
that will be with you forever, and who will be a reflection
of My love for you, so that you will know I love You,
even when you cannot see Me.
Regardless of how selfish and childish
and how unlovable you may be,
this new companion will accept you as you are and
will love you as I do, in spite of yourself.

And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam.
And it was a good animal. And God was pleased.
And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and
he wagged his tail.
And Adam said,
But Lord, I have already named all of the animals in the Kingdom
and all the good names are already taken and
I cannot think of a name for this new animal.
And God said,
No problem. Because I have created this new animal to be
a reflection of My love for you,
his name will be a reflection of My own name,
and you will call him dog.
And dog lived with Adam and was a companion to him
and loved him. And Adam was comforted.
And God was pleased. And dog was content and wagged his tail.
After a while, it came to pass that Adam's guardian angel
came to the Lord and said, Lord, Adam has become filled with pride.
He struts and preens like a peacock
and he believes he is worthy of adoration.
Dog has indeed taught him that he is loved,
but no one has taught him humility.

And the Lord said,
No problem! I will create for him a companion
who will be with him forever
and who will see him as he is.
The companion will remind him of his limitations,
so he will know that he is not worthy of adoration.
And God created cat to be a companion to Adam.

And cat would not obey Adam.
And when Adam gazed into cat's eyes,
he was reminded that he was not the supreme being.
And Adam learned humility. And God was pleased.
And Adam was greatly improved.
And cat did not care one way or another.

Anna Hefele

************************

If people were superior to animals,
they'd take better care of the world.

Winnie the Pooh

I heard a story once about a farmer who had some puppies for sale. He made a sign advertising the pups and nailed it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was nailing the sign to the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down to see a little boy with a big grin and something in his hand. "Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies." "Well," said the farmer, "these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal." The boy dropped his head for a moment, then looked back up at the farmer and said, "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look? "Sure," said the farmer, and with that he whistled and called out, "Dolly. Here, Dolly." Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy's eyes danced with delight. Then out from the doghouse peeked another little ball; this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid and began hobbling in an unrewarded attempt to catch up with the others. The pup was clearly the runt of the litter. The little boy pressed his face to the fence and cried out, "I want that one," pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you the way you would like." With that the boy reached down and slowly pulled up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking up at the farmer, he said, "You see, sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands."

Many, many moons ago, there was a magnificent white wolf.
She was a loyal, gentle, soul.
She stood tall and proud,
her essence reached out and touched you.
The wolf had everything, but she was lost.
All she could do was wander around in the mist looking
for something that could make her feel real.
The wolf wandered around for how long?
For how long, she did not know.
All she knew was that it felt like a lifetime.
One day, she allowed herself to step out of the mist.
In doing so, she stumbled, on a wee bird.
The bird was so cute.
He had no wings, a flightless bird.
He was wandering around just like her,
but with his own purpose.
The two of them formed a special friendship,
they played together, laughed together,
talked for hours about everything they could think of.
The wolf was so happy she had found a friend.
She had come to know the essence of the wee bird,
and allowed him to touch her soul.
It didn't matter what he looked like,
even his faults didn't matter to her,
she knew his essence and that was all that mattered.
One day she noticed a change in their friendship,
she saw a sad distant look in his eyes,
she knew he couldn't hurt her by saying goodbye.
With her heart weighing heavy,
she wondered what she could do to make it easier on the wee bird.
Going away she went to ponder on it, then it came to her,
"a pair of wings."
It was then she realized that she could give him a pair of wings,
and it suddenly dawned on her that friendship was freedom.
She had seen the eagles fly, and watched the hawks soar.
To be given wings, he too could fly.
It was with a heavy heart that she gave her tiny friend
the most precious gift of all.
Tenderly bending over to attach the wings,
she kissed him on the beak and wished him safe flight.
Turning to walk back towards the mist,
she wiped a tear from her eye.
It was then that she realized she hadn't lost anything,
but had gained.
She still had her memories, they were all hers to keep.
With that she was then able to turn back
and give the friend she had grown to love a smile.
She hoped in her
heart he would find what he was looking for.
Her wish for him was that he find love and happiness.
She was a very wise wolf indeed for she knew
that to really love is to be able to let go.

Author.......White Wolf

************************

It is a man's sympathy with all creatures
that truly makes him a man.
Until he extends his circle of compassion to all living things,
man himself will not find peace.

************************

Welcome At Rainbow Ridge

On the morning of September 11, 2001, there was an unprecedented amount of activity at the Rainbow Bridge. Decisions had to be made.
They had to be made quickly. And, they were.

An issue, not often addressed here,
is the fact that many residents
really have no loved one for whom to wait.
Think of the pups who lived
and died in hideous puppy mills.
No one on earth loved or protected them.
What about the many who spent
unhappy lives tied in backyards?
And, the ones who were abused.
Who are they to wait for?

We don't talk about that much up here.
We share our loved ones as they arrive,
happy to do so.
But we all know there is nothing
like having your very own person
who thinks you are the most
special pup in the Heavens.

Last Tuesday morning,
a request rang out for pups,
not waiting for specific persons,
to volunteer for a special assignment..

An eager, curious crowd surged excitedly forward,
each pup wondering what the assignment would be.

They were told by a solemn voice that unexpectedly,
all at once, over 4,000 loving people
had left Earth long before they were ready.
All the pups, as all pups do,
felt the humans' pain deep in their own hearts.
Without hearing more,
there was a clamoring among them -
May I have one to comfort?
I'll take two, I have a big heart.
I have been saving kisses forever.

One after another they came forward
begging for assignment.
One cozy-looking fluffy pup hesitantly asked,
Are there any children coming?
I would be very comforting for a child 'cause I'm soft and squishy and I always wanted to be hugged.
A group of Dalmatians came forward
asking to meet the Firemen and be their friends.
The larger working breeds offered
to greet the Police Officers
and make them feel at home.
Little dogs volunteered to do what they do best,
cuddle and kiss.

Dogs who on Earth had never had
a kind word or a pat on the head,
stepped forward and said,
I will love any human who needs love.

Then all the dogs,
wherever on Earth they originally came from,
rushed to the Rainbow Bridge and stood waiting,
overflowing with love to share -
each tail wagging an American Flag.

I wish someone had given 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 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 hands 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. Day after day, the whole day through, Wherever my road inclined, Four feet said, "I am coming with you!" And trotted along behind.

High up in the courts of heaven today
a little dog angel waits;
with the other angels he will not play,
but he sits alone at the gates.
For I know my master will come says he,
and when he comes he will call for me.
The other angels pass him by as they hurry toward the throne,
And he watches them with a wistful eye as he sits at the gates alone.
But I know if I just wait patiently that someday my master will call for me.
And his master, down on earth below, as he sits in his easy chair,
forgets sometimes, and whispers low to the dog who is not there.
And the little dog angel cocks his ears
and dreams that his master's voice he hears.
And when at last his master waits outside in the dark and cold,
for the hand of death to open the door,
that leads to those courts of gold,
he will hear a sound through the gathering dark,
a little dog angel's bark.

************************

Purple Martins swooped wildly over the jumping fish in the pond in the backyard, plucking the early mosquitoes out of the humid air. Branches full of apple blossoms swayed rhythmically back and forth in the breeze. The scent of lilac wafted through the open windows, and the old boxer lay dying.
It had begun early in the pre-dawn hours. Hurried last minute instructions had been written down for me along with emergency numbers in case there were any problems. Chardo's owners were well aware that their dog was dying of heart failure, but legal matters in the city compelled them to go. It was only for a day, but it hurt them greatly to leave. They just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to Chardo and him being alone.
I had agreed to close up my photographic studio for the day and dog sit. Chardo had immigrated to Canada from Germany along with his owners and four cats almost seven years ago. They must have been quite a sight in the arrival area. I have witnessed many a cat on a luggage carousel mewing pitifully while waiting for their owners to claim them. Two of the cats had met with those various ends that seem to befall farm felines. Now only Chardo and two remained.
He had been a lovely dog, dark chocolate brown with just the right amount of white to contrast. Over the years his cropped ears had grown deaf, and arthritis had crippled and twisted his powerful legs. Old age always seems to come too soon to boxers, and he was no exception.
I watched him vigilantly. He slept in the sun, struggling for every breath. When he woke, he checked out the window to see if his family had returned. Finding they had not, he would flop down with a heavy sigh and return to the comforts of sleep. He ate with gusto the chicken they had left for his lunch, and even ventured outside for awhile. Every few steps he was forced to pause to catch his ever decreasing breath. It was bitter sweet watching him turn his face up to the sun filled air to sniff those far off smells that he was incapable of pursuing.
The afternoon passed in that slow dreamlike fashion that accompanies spring. It was during that time that I witnessed something that moved me beyond words. Throughout the day, I had been listening to Chardo's labored breathing. I was apprehensive when I realized that I could no longer hear it. I ventured out into the sun room and peeked around the corner, afraid that he had passed while his owners weren't home to say goodbye.
Instead, I saw him laying in the warm rays that spilled through the window. Next to him was Daisy the cat. She had her paws wrapped gently, but firmly around his neck and was licking him intently. Starting with his ears, she cleaned thoroughly inside and out. Once finished on one side, she would move to the other and patiently begin again. The effect on Chardo was positively medicinal. His breathing was more even and less raspy. The look on his face seemed one of pure gratitude.
His eyes were blissfully closed as he was attended to by his furry
nursemaid. I honestly don't know where Daisy found the stamina, but she washed the big dog from head to his hind quarters. When she had finished, she collapsed between the two enormous paws and together they lay, face next to face sharing each others breath. I fancied that she somehow sensed that he lacked his own and was trying to provide even that. They slept
contented until Chardo's family was home once again.
The owner called me that night at supper time to tell me that Chardo had passed away, and to thank me for taking care of him on his last day. I told her it had been my pleasure, but that the real hero was a small black and white angel named Daisy. She had comforted him in a way none of us ever could by giving him everything that was possible for her to give.
I will never forget her brave efforts on behalf of her friend. I only hope that, I too, will always be willing to comfort until I am exhausted, and then be willing to share my tired breath.

************************

The Lassie Dog

As Kevin sat intently in front of the old 19 inch Zenith television set with 'rabbit ears' and poor reception, his mother watched her little seven year boy move almost theatrically as he cheered Lassie on. "Go get 'em girl, go get 'em!" He'd look forward to each episode as Lassie would save the day on each and every airing of this show. His mother had memorized Kevin's question as it was sure to follow at the end of every episode of "Lassie." Per usual, he quickly spun around while sitting 'Indian Style' on the floor and asked, "Mom?, Can I have a Lassie dog? Please Mom!?"

As she gazed into his eager eyes she replied, "Honey, I'd love to
give you a dog like Lassie, but I've said it before--dogs like Lassie
like to be outside and run." Desperately trying to convince him she added, "Kevin, I have told you over and over again that our yard is too small for a Lassie dog!"
Kevin appeared pensive for a moment and then excitingly exclaimed, "I have an idea Mom! I'll teach the Lassie dog to stay by me all of the time so she won't get lost or hurt!" His mother appeared surprised that Kevin could creatively think on his feet so quickly.
"That's a really neat idea sweetheart, but Lassie is what's known as a Collie and you can't teach a Collie to stay by your side all of the time because they're outside dogs and I'm afraid your Lassie dog would run away. Do you understand what I'm saying honey?"
Kevin looked down and was clearly disappointed by what he felt was his last ditch effort to gain his mother's favor as it would relate to his getting his youthful mind's hero--a dog and friend like Lassie.
Months passed and Kevin stopped asking his mother whether or not he could get a dog like Lassie. She noticed his increasing quietness and sadness with each passing episode and thought back to her childhood. Her parents surprised her one Christmas with a little scroungy mutt that she adored. She got this ugly little dog that Christmas when she was about her son's age and the guilt of not allowing Kevin to have a dog to be his best friend finally got to her. One afternoon after yet another episode of "Lassie," she decided, right or wrong, to give in to Kevin's earlier repeated desire to have a dog of his own. "Kevin", she asked,
"How about us going down to the dog pound today and getting you a dog? The dog won't be as pretty as Lassie, but I know we can find a dog that you'd love."
Kevin's eyes lit up like a 50 watt bulb with no lamp shade as he
exclaimed, "Really Mom?! Yes, I don't care anymore about getting a Lassie dog! Can we go now?", he enthusiastically asked. "We sure can honey! Put your shoes on and let's go on down to the dog pound and find you the perfect dog!" Kevin jumped up and hurriedly put his shoes on and headed directly to the car.
Upon arriving at the dog pound, she asked the old man who ran the shelter which dog out of all of the dogs there would be the most loyal and well trained dog for her eager little boy. Without a moment's pause, the man replied, "Oh, that's an easy question to answer. Follow me back and I'll show you the perfect dog for your son."
Kevin and his mother followed the old man back to the last cage on the right. "There she is ma'am. This would be the dog I'd choose and I'd already have her myself but we have a half-dozen dogs at home and just don't have room for "Fire." She was taken back as she looked at this homely dog with little hair as the mutt looked like she had been badly burned. After she got over the initial shock of such a sight, she asked,
"Has this dog been burned and are you sure this would be the right dog for Kevin?" The old man looked at Kevin and noticed his eyes were misting with tears. "Oh I'd bet my life on it ma'am!", he confidently replied.
"Ma'am?", he inquired, "Did you not hear about the dog that laid on top of the little girl during the forest fire up on Red Bird Mountain? This was the dog that they featured in the local paper. This rascal saved the little girl's life and just about lost her own by covering that little girl with her body!" She thought for a bit and answered, "Well of course I did! Are you telling me that this is that dog?" "Yes, it sure is. No one has taken her because of how she looks and I would have put her to sleep but it's hard to end a life that saved one!", he somberly replied.

"Do you want this dog Kevin? Sounds like you'd have yourself a hero like Lassie if we brought her home." Kevin's eyes had full-blown tears in them now. "I want her Mom! Can we take her back with us?" She quickly glanced at the old man who was moved to tears himself at this point.
"She's ours sweetheart."
They took "Fire" home and she never left Kevin's side and was his
constant companion--never once even attempting to leave the yard or run out of the gate if mistakenly left open. Every night Kevin would say his prayers when his mother would tuck him in and he never failed to pray that "Fire" would be healed and get her hair back. After about five weeks, Kevin's constant prayers were obviously being answered as the once terribly disfigured mutt's hair rapidly began to grow back. Perhaps
it was Kevin and his mother's imagination, but the more "Fire's" hair grew back, the more she resembled Lassie.
Kevin's mother opted to call the old man at the dog pound as her
curiosity was overwhelmingly piqued. "Hello," the old man responded on the other end of the phone, "Corbin County dog pound. My name is Joe and how can we help you today?" "Hi Joe, I came in a month or so ago with my son and we got the dog you named "Fire." "Yes ma'am, he replied happily,
"I'm glad you called...been wondering how old "Fire" has been doing. How can I help you?" She took a deep breath and asked, "Well Joe, I'm curious about just one thing and thought you might know the answer. What kind of mutt is 'Fire'?"
The old man softly chuckled before replying. "Ma'am," 'Fire' isn't a
mutt." Confused she continued, "If she's not a mutt, what kind of dog is she?" He chuckled again and replied, "Fire's momma' and daddy are both show dogs. 'Fire' is a full-bred Collie."

My family brought me home cradled in their arms. They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm. They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.

The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats. They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets. I used to go for walks, of fun several times a day. They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say. These are the things I'll not forget - a cherished memory, because I now live in the shelter without my family.

They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe. But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new. The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug. So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug. They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside. This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.

The walks stopped, one by one, they said they hadn't time. I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime. My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain. I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.

So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why. They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye. If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup, then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.

Killer Angels

I had just graduated from veterinary school, and I was volunteering at the local shelter in Twin Falls, Idaho. As I looked down at the dog napping in her run, I knew I was going to have to wake her up to put her "to sleep." What a cruel euphemism. She was a Heinz-57 mixed-breed with no name, no home, no hope. She was horrifically malnourished, and her coat was a mass of mats and burrs. In a way, she was lucky to be here. Found on the side of the road - like living garbage - she'd been left to die in a remote area of our county. The kind rancher who found her brought her to the local shelter where she joined dozens of other cuties and uglies pressing against the front of the cages hoping to catch the eye of someone who had a heart and home big enough to give them another chance. Problem was there were too many homeless pets and not enough homes. Day after day for a week the dog waited and waited, her still-wagging tail marking the time. But on this day, her time was up. No one had adopted her; like many in the shelter, the animals were too big, too small, too hairy, too young, too old. Without enough cages to hold all that came through our doors, we were prepared to end her life quickly and without suffering. "Better than starving to death in the country," I said, finding little solace in the words. I was inspired to enter this profession because of a deep love of animals. I had been highly trained and entrusted to save lives and prevent pain and suffering. Yet here I was about to end the life of this innocent creature. I hated this part of the job, but I had to do it. Choking back my emotions, I readied myself to perform the procedure for which I'd been trained. I set her on the table, and she wiggled her gaunt frame with delight as I spoke some soothing words and patted her head. The tempo of her tail quickened as she looked up at my face. Looking into her eyes, I saw total trust, unconditional love and absolute loyalty. I felt the cruel irony of what was taking place. God's precious creatures, embodying the kindest virtues on the planet, being killed for the crime of not being wanted. She held out her leg for me to inject and licked my hand. She was ready. I wasn't. I collapsed onto the dog and held her tight as I bathed her with tears. Never, ever would I do a convenience euthanasia again. I'd euthanize a pet if it was suffering terribly, or had an incurable disease, but never again because of an uncaring owner's mere request. I took the dog back to my veterinary practice and named her G.H. - short for Good Home. I'd observed over the years that people who raised litters of puppies or kittens always said, "I just want to find them a 'good home.'" I soon entrusted G.H. to a loving client who had a heart and home big enough to welcome yet another four-legged family member. Saving G.H. set me on a new path as a veterinarian. Although my hands still held the power of death, my heart didn't. Now, whenever I look into the dancing liquid eyes of a pet, brimming with love, I realize that looks can save. They did me.

************************

Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably someone would forget and something would come up missing. Mary or Jim
would go to Lucky's toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky's favorite toys. Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease...she was just sure it was fatal. She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky.

A thought struck her...what would happen to Lucky? Although the three year old dog liked Jim he was Mary's dog through and through. If I die Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won't understand that I didn't want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the dog just drooped, whining and miserable. But finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home Mary was so exhausted she couldn't even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap.

Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn't come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed. When Mary woke for a second she couldn't understand what was wrong. She couldn't move her head and her body felt heavy and hot.

Panic soon gave way to laughter though when Mary realized the
problem....she was covered, literally blanketed in every treasure Lucky owned! While she had slept the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement and back bringing his beloved mistress his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love. Mary forgot about dying. Instead, she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every night.

It's been 12 years now, and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky? He
still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box, but Mary
remains his greatest treasure.

************************

A Dog's Prayer
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than this loving heart of mine.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your
hand between blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as
you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footsteps fall upon my ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a
domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you though ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my God and I am your worshiper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not
reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer from thirst.
Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and to stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the Great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest--- and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever in your hand.

The Potato Puppy

     My four-year-old son, Shane, had been asking for a
puppy for over a month, but his daddy kept saying, "No
dogs! A dog will dig up the garden and chase the ducks and
kill our rabbits. No dog, and that's final!"
     Each night Shane prayed for a puppy, and each morning
he was disappointed when there was no puppy waiting outside.
     I was peeling potatoes for dinner, and he was sitting
on the floor at my feet asking for the thousandth time,
"Why won't Daddy let me have a puppy?"
     "Because they are a lot of trouble. Don't cry. Maybe
Daddy will change his mind someday," I encouraged him.
     "No, he won't, and I'll never have a puppy in a
million years," Shane wailed.
     I looked into his dirty, tear-streaked face. How
could we deny him his one wish? So I said the words that
were first spoken by Eve, "I know a way to make Daddy
change his mind."
     "Really?" Shane wiped away his tears and sniffed.
     I handed him a potato.
     "Take this and carry it with you until it turns into a
puppy," I whispered. "Never let it out of your sight for
one minute. Keep it with you all the time, and on the
third day, tie a string around it and drag it around the
yard and see what happens!"
     Shane grabbed the potato with both hands. "Mama, how
do you make a potato into a puppy?" He turned it over and
over in his little hands.
     "Shh! It's a secret!" I whispered and sent him on his way.
     "Lord, you know what a woman must do to keep peace in
her home!" I prayed.
     Shane faithfully carried his potato around for two
days; he slept with it, bathed with it and talked to it.
     On the third day I said to my husband, "We really
should get a pet for Shane."
     "What makes you think he needs a pet?" My husband
leaned against the doorway.
      "Well, he's been carrying a potato around with him
for days. He calls it Wally and says it is his pet. He
sleeps with it on his pillow, and right now he has a string
tied to it and he's dragging it around the yard," I said.
     "A potato?" my husband asked and looked out the window
and watched Shane taking his potato for a walk.
     "It will break his heart when the potato gets mushy
and rots," I said and started getting out food for lunch.
"Besides, every time I try to peel potatoes for dinner,
Shane cries because he says I'm killing Wally's family."
     "A potato?" my husband asked. "My son has a pet potato?"
     "Well," I said shrugging, "you said he couldn't have a
puppy. He was so disappointed, in his mind, he decided he
had to have a pet..."
     "That's crazy!" my husband said.
     "Maybe you're right, but explain to me why he is
dragging that potato around the yard on a string," I said.
     My husband watched our son for a few more minutes.
     "I'll bring home a puppy tonight. I'll stop by the
animal shelter after work. I guess a puppy can't be that
much trouble," he sighed. "It's better than a potato."
     That night Shane's daddy brought home a wiggling puppy
and a pregnant white cat that he took pity on while he was
at the shelter.
     Everyone was happy. My husband thought he'd saved his
son from a nervous breakdown. Shane had a puppy, a cat and
five kittens and believed his mother had magic powers that
could change a potato into a puppy. And I was happy
because I got my potato back and cooked it for dinner.
     Everything was perfect until one evening when I was
cooking dinner, Shane tugged on my dress and asked, "Mama,
do you think I could have a pony for my birthday?"
     I looked into his sweet little face and said, "Well,
first we have to take a watermelon..."

Answered Prayers

It was a Sunday afternoon, and we were returning from one of our weekend trips to my mother's home in south Alabama. My husband was driving and our 4-year-old daughter, Nova, was sitting quietly in the back-seat. We had just crossed the state line into Florida when our daughter spoke up. "Can I have a kitty?"

Her father's immediate response was a resounding "No!" Then his voice softened as he explained that daddy was just not a cat person. We had Gooch, our toy poodle, and that was enough for now.

Of course our sweet daughter could not let it go with just that
explanation. She told her daddy that it would be her kitty, not his. Still, his answer was no. It was very quiet in the back-seat, and I didn't know if Nova was pouting or thinking of another argument -- but I got my answer. "Well, I will just pray to God and ask Him for a kitty," she said. And she was quiet again.

We continued our journey home, not quite knowing what to say to that comment. We pulled into our driveway just before dark, unloaded our belongings and headed for the back door. We had just closed the gate to the back yard when we heard a noise coming from under the deck. To our amazement, a pitiful looking white, bony, long-legged, huge, green eyed critter shyly crept out from under the deck. It looked at us. We looked at
it. Then it made a bee line for our daughter.

We were shocked. We advised her not to touch it because it looked very sickly and we had no idea what might be wrong with it. And, it might scratch or bite her. Of course, our words went unheeded, as she immediately bent down and petted that pitiful looking, long-legged, green eyed critter, who was by now winding its bony little body around her.

My husband and I stood there for a second taking in the sight. The smile on our daughter's face was radiant as she rubbed and petted the poor cat that was curling around her. I looked at my husband and he looked at me.
Then came the words from my husband that changed our lives.... "I'm not telling her she can't have that cat!" We both laughed. We had taught Nova to believe in the power of prayer, and to tell her she couldn't have the cat was out of the question. But we did explain that we had to check around the neighborhood and make sure this kitty wasn't just separated from it's family. After all, some other little girl or boy might be very sad that he was missing. Nova understood, but was sure in her little mind
that he was not lost -- only not wanted.

We brought the kitty into the house, fed him and cleaned him up. We checked around the neighborhood -- no one had ever seen this cat before. We contacted the pound and no one had reported a white cat missing. Our next step was to visit the vet for a check up... The vet said the cat was a couple of years old and in pretty good shape considering he was half starved and had been out in the weather.

So we brought him back home and there he remained, for many, many years, until he quietly slipped out of our lives just as he had quietly slipped in. Our daughter named him Salem, and he was her kitty from the moment they laid eyes on each other. He was by her side constantly -- slept on her bed, rode in her baby stroller, and lay beside her as she watched TV or colored, or talked on the phone as she grew older. His love for her
never wavered nor did her love for him. He grew into the most
beautiful, snow white cat with large grape green eyes that could melt any heart.

Our daughter is 18 years old now and still misses Salem. He was her "special friend" sent to her by God. She still has a tremendous faith in God and believes that God answers all prayers no matter how small. We thank Him for answering the prayer of a small little girl, who wanted nothing more than her own kitty.

By Linda Franklin

************************

I don't understand these humans.
God placed them here
To cherish us
To enjoy us
In the simple stillness of nature
But they busy themselves with power and complexity
In their artificial world
That pollutes ours
For a perfection
Free from chaos
Free from pleasure
Free from life.
They labor
Day after day
To create a dream
That they never make time to experience
While we
Simply savor the blessings
Of Him who shaped us
To play without the need of invention.
And then they boast on
how they've just recently learned to fly
But we've been doing it effortlessly
As a gift
From the Beginning
And all they know of the art
Was given them
Through us.
Oh, if someone could explain to us
How they
With no higher predator
Are more cruelly consumed
By lust to prey on one another.
And so as men and women move
Cursing and complaining
Striving and struggling
We yet arise
Each morning
To sing and soar
In this, our land
Our home..............Our Heaven.

Ray McAllister (5 May 2002)

Index	Ten	Twenty	Thirty
One	Eleven	Twenty-One	Remembering One
Two	Twelve	Twenty-Two	Remembering Two
Three	Thirteen	Twenty-Three	Remembering Three
Four	Fourteen	Twenty-Four	Animals One
Five	Fifteen	Twenty-Five	Animals Two
Six	Sixteen	Twenty-Six	Animals Three
Seven	Seventeen	Twenty-Seven	Heroes
Eight	Eighteen	Twenty-Eight	Holidays
Nine	Nineteen	Twenty-Nine

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