A story from a grateful rescue dog

A rescue dog black and white



Once I was a lonely dog Just looking for a home.

I had no place to go, No one to call my own.

I wandered up and down the streets, in rain, in heat and snow.

I ate whatever I could find, I was always on the go.

My skin would itch, my feet were sore, my body ached with pain.

And no one stopped to give a pat or gently say my name.

I never saw a loving glance; I was always on the run.

For people thought that hurting me was really lots of fun.

And then one day I heard a voice so gentle, kind and sweet.

And arms so soft reached down to me and took me off my feet.

No one again will hurt you: was whispered in my ear.

You’ll have a home to call your own where you will know no fear.

You will be dry, you will be warm, you’ll have enough to eat

and rest assured that when you sleep, your dreams will all be sweet.

I was afraid, I must admit, I’ve lived so long in fear.

I can’t remember when I let A human come so near.

And as she tended to my wounds and bathed and brushed my fur

She told me bout the rescue group and what it meant to her.

She said, we are a circle, a line that never ends.

And in the centre there is you protected by new friends.

And all around you are the ones that check the pounds

and those that share their home after you’ve been found.

And all the other folk are searching near and far.

To find the perfect home for you, where you can be a star.

She said, “There is a family, that’s waiting patiently

and pretty soon we’ll find them, just you wait and see”.

“And then they’ll join our circle They’ll help to make it grow,

so there’ll be room for more like you, who have no place to go”.

I waited very patiently, the days they came and went.

Today’s the day I thought, my family would be sent.

Then just when I began to think it wasn’t meant to be,

there were people standing there just gazing down at me.

I knew them in a heartbeat; I could tell they felt it too.

They said, “We have been waiting for a special dog” like you.

Now every night I say a prayer to all the gods that be.

“Thank you for the life I live and all you’ve given me.

But most of all protect the dogs in the pound and on the street.

And send a Rescue Person to lift them off their feet”.

~ Author unknown A poem for dog lovers all the way from Scotland


Source:  The Familiar Spirit

Thank you, Notsuredomus


Dee Oh Gee visits Shep, the dog memorial in Ft Benton MT


Ft. Benton is best known for — and most proud of — Old Shep, its “forever faithful” sheep dog.  In the summer of 1936, a sheep herder fell ill and headed to Ft. Benton for treatment.  His dog, Shep, came along.  When the herder died a few days later, his body was crated up and sent back east to relatives.  Shep followed the box to the Ft. Benton train depot, and watched nervously as his master was put on board and taken away.  No one remembers the name of the herder.

But everyone remembers Shep.  Because for the next five and a half years, Shep maintained a vigil at the station, greeting the four trains that arrived each day, waiting for his master to return.

Two and a half years into the watch, Old Shep was featured in Ripley’s Believe It or Not, and became a Depression-era sensation.  Fan mail poured in. School children sent Christmas gifts.  Rail travelers took long detours off the mainline, just to stop in Ft. Benton and see this devoted dog meet their train.

Eventually, tragedy struck. On January 12, 1942, little more than a month after the attack on Pearl Harbor, an old and deaf Shep failed to hear the 10:17, then slipped on an icy rail trying to get away.

Shep’s obituary was carried on both wire services, and his funeral two days later was attended by hundreds, with an honor guard and pall bearers.  “Eulogy on the Dog,” originally written for fellow brave dog, Old Drum, was read by the town’s minister.

Shep was buried on a lonely bluff looking down on the train depot.  The Great Northern Railroad put up a simple obelisk, with a painted wooden cutout of Shep next to it.  Just beneath, white stones spelled out SHEP.  Lights illuminated the display at night, and conductors pointed it out to their passengers.  Eventually, though, the passenger line stopped coming through Ft. Benton, the lights went out, and the grave fell into disrepair.

But a new generation of Shep fans, perhaps motivated by a Paul Harvey mention in 1988, repaired and refurbished the grave.  The Shep cutout is now painted steel, and lights are back up.  The site is well-maintained by the Kiwanis Key Club and Ft. Benton Community Improvement Society, and a small parking area and walking trail have been added behind the monument, so that a grave site visit is easy.  In town, The Museum of the Upper Missouri shows off Shep’s collar and dog bowl.  It is one of many places that sells Shep coins.

And in 1994, the town unveiled a larger than life Shep bronze, both front feet on a train rail, down at one end of its historic levee (Lewis and Clark are on the other end).  The money was raised by selling miniatures of the statue, as well as memorial bricks which were placed in a thirty-foot octagon beneath it.  “Mutt Mitts” are available next to the statue for all those still building bonds with their own dogs.

The three vertical frames are courtesy of a fellow dog-friend, Notsuredomus.  Please visit his site, also devoted to dogs, The Familiar Spirit.  I was tickled with this set of pictures watching his dog, Dee Oh Gee, sniffing the hind-quarters (as dogs all do) of the statue, Shep.

Thanks, Notsuredomus!

Source of Shep: Roadside America



I stood by your bed last night…


I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, You found it hard to sleep.

I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”

I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.

I was with you at the shops today, Your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.

I was with you at my grave today, You tend it with such care.
I want to reassure you, that I’m not lying there.

I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said “it’s me.”

You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.

It’s possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”

You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew …in the
stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.

The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
and say “goodnight, I will see you in the morning.”

And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.

I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out … then come home to be with me.

~ Unknown~

Update: November 17 2014. It appears that there are two people claiming this is their poem. I am contacting them both and the one with proof of ownership will, naturally, receive all the credit.

I am an Animal Rescuer

Annette King-Tucker, Animal Rescuer

Previously I had posted an abbreviated version of this poem below, only because that is all I had.  Now, via an online fellow animal and dog-lover, I have found the full poem, the website, and the author.

Thank you, Notsuredomus and his blog “The Familiar Spirit” (please check it out – some great postings) for helping direct me to the original!

Here is the poem in full from the site “Wild Heart Ranch“.  Photo below of the author and a coyote rescue.

I Am an Animal Rescuer

My job is to assist God’s creatures
I was born with the need to fulfill their needs
I take in new family members without plan, thought, or selection
I have bought dog food with my last dime
I have patted a mangy head with a bare hand
I have hugged someone vicious and afraid
I have fallen in love a thousand times
and I have cried into the fur of a lifeless body

I have Animal Friends and friends who have animal friends
I don’t often use the word “pet”
I notice those lost at the road side
And my heart aches
I will hand raise a field mouse
And make friends with a vulture
I know of no creature unworthy of my time

I want to live forever if there aren’t animals in Heaven
But I believe there are
Why would God make something so perfect and leave it behind
We may be master of the animals,
But the animals have mastered themselves
Something people still haven’t learned

War and Abuse makes me hurt for the world
But a rescue that makes the news gives me hope for mankind
We are a quiet but determined army
And making a difference ever day

There is nothing more necessary than warming an orphan
nothing more rewarding than saving a life
No higher recognition than watching them thrive
There is no greater joy than seeing a baby play
who only days ago, was too weak to eat

I am an Animal Rescuer
My work is never done,
My home is never quiet
My wallet is always empty
But my heart is always full

Written from a wild heart by:
Annette King-Tucker, Animal Rescuer
Wild Heart Ranch Wildlife Rescue
Claremore, Oklahoma

Bobby. The story of a loyal Skye Terrier.

Bobby 2

The Story Begins…

In the early 1800’s a man called John Gray, a gardener, arrived in Edinburgh with his wife and son looking for work. The weather was cold, however, and the ground was hard, so there were no gardening jobs available. He took what work he could find, and became a member of the Edinburgh Police Force – a Constable.

As a condition of his job, John Gray was required to have a dog. He bought a Skye Terrier and named him Bobby (Bobby was the nickname for Constables in the Police Force). Bobby became a loving and loyal companion.

A Sad Event

Unfortunately, after a few years as a policeman, John Gray became ill with tuberculosis, and died in February 1858. He was buried in old Greyfriars Kirkyard (Churchyard) in an unremarkable grave with no gravestone.

Incredible Loyalty

For the next fourteen years, Bobby sat and kept guard over his master’s grave. He left the grave only for food, waiting patiently until the one o’clock gun was sounded, when he visited a nearby cafe which he used to visit with his master. There the owners (who changed over the years) would feed him his dinner. The last owner to feed Bobby, John Traill, had a special dish made for him (engraved “Bobby’s Dinner Dish”), which can be seen in the Museum of Edinburgh.

The gardener and keeper of the graveyard, James Brown, tried often to remove Bobby from the Kirkyard, but finally gave up and provided a shelter instead, at the side of John Gray’s grave.

Fame For Bobby

Bobby’s fame spread throughout Edinburgh. On a daily basis the crowds would gather at the entrance of the graveyard waiting for the one o’clock gun and a glimpse of Bobby leaving for his meal.

In 1867 a law was passed that required dogs to be licensed or destroyed. Sir William Chambers (The Lord Provost of Edinburgh) paid Bobby’s licence himself, and presented him with a collar with the brass inscription “Greyfriars Bobby from the Lord Provost 1867 licensed”.

The people of Edinburgh looked after the faithful Bobby while he watched over his master. Bobby died in 1872.

Statue in Tribute to Bobby

Greyfriars Bobby, Scotland’s most famous dog, is not forgotton. Hearing the story, the President of the Ladies Committee of the RSPCA asked the City Council for permission to erect a granite fountain with a statue of Bobby placed on top. A statue was commissioned unveiled in November 1873 opposite the Kirkyard graveyard, on the corner of Candlemakers Row and King George IV Bridge.

Everlasting Words

Bobby’s grave can be found in Greyfriars Kirkyard, about 75 yards from John Gray’s grave. The headstone is engraved with these words:

Greyfriars Bobby – died 14th January 1872 – aged 16 years
Let his loyalty and devotion be a lesson to us all

Post script:  There are stories to the contrary about Bobby.  But personally, I like to believe this one.  Why not?  Because there is no harm done in believing this version.


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