Category: Morality

Reggie the Black Lab.

To whomsoever gets my dog!

With thanks to Suzann Reeve who sent this on to me.

You all have a very wonderful Autumn weekend.

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They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie,
as I looked at him lying in his pen.
The shelter was clean, no-kill,
and the people really friendly.

I’d only been in the area for six months, but
everywhere I went in the small college town, people
were welcoming and open. Everyone waves
when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle
in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt.
Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen
Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter
said they had received numerous calls right after,
but they said the people who had come down
to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,”
whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me
in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted
of a dog pad, a bag of toys almost all of which were
brand new tennis balls, his dishes and
a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home.
We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter
told me to give him to adjust to his new home).

Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten
about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see
if your previous owner has any advice.”

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this,
a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by
Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it.

He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes
that it will help you bond with him and he with you.
First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier.
Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them.
He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet.

Doesn’t matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the
obvious ones —“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”
He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball”
and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.
Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular
store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.
He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet.
Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he
knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.
Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and
me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me,
so please include him on your daily car rides if you can.
He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark
or complain. He just loves to be around people,
and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this …well it means that his new owner should know his real name.
His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.
I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander.
You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with … and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter …in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption.
Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word. Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me.
If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.
All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.
Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and
give him an extra kiss goodnight – every night – from me.
Thank you,
Paul Mallory

_____________________
I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope.

Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.
“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.
The dog’s head whipped up, his ears
cocked and his eyes bright.

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered. His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.
“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.”
Tank reached up and licked my cheek.
“So whatdaya say we play some ball?”
His ears perked again.
“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”
Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

If you can read this without getting a lump in your
throat or a tear in your eye, you just ain’t right.
============================== ========
“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” G.K. Chesterton

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Millions of us have to fight our demons, both real and imagined. Doing it without a dog by one’s side is so much harder!

Life Lessons from Maggie

But not before I celebrate this:

The September equinox marks the moment the Sun crosses the celestial equator – the imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s equator – from north to south and vice versa in March.

That moment is at precisely 14:21 UTC today, September 22nd. Welcome to Autumn, or Fall in American speak!

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I was contacted by Susan Leighton recently offering me a guest post. Susan is a regular follower of this place and frequently drops in with responses and comments. Susan is also the founder of the blog: Woman on the Ledge (I can recommend her blog, by the way!)

Here is Susan’s guest post.

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Life Lessons from Maggie

I have walked this earth for fifty years and I have been a proud dog parent several times over. My latest child is an incredibly exuberant eight-year-old Boston Terrier named Maggie. Maggie Mae’s Up, Up, and Away is her full name. My husband and I got her in New Mexico which is the site of a world famous hot air balloon festival so hence the nod to the 5th Dimensions song.
Maggie was actually a surprise. I was going through an exceptionally rough time (unfortunately it was the beginning of several trying years) and my husband thought that she would cheer me up. The moment she was placed in my arms, a love affair and deep bond began. I looked into her expressive brown eyes and knew that I had just met my canine BFF.
When she was a puppy, we had a bit of a health scare with her. She was diagnosed with a severe case of giardia. The medication we were given to combat the illness wasn’t working. Our vet decided to treat her with a round of shots. It was touch and go for a few days but she came through with flying colors.
From an early age, she was our little toughie. Small in stature, she refused to let her bigger sisters get the best of her. Their long legs might have surpassed hers but she never gave up and would constantly compete to be number one in back yard games.
Dogs are amazing creatures. They are incredibly intuitive and sometimes I think they just might be smarter than us. In the years that I have been privileged to know Maggie she has taught me many life lessons. I would like to share some of that knowledge with you.

Every day is an adventure – don’t be a slave to routine. Maggie definitely isn’t one. Yesterday, she had an impromptu game of keep away with her stuffed animal. Today she was feeling like playing tug of war with her rope. Try something new. Even if you work 8 hours a day, you can still incorporate little surprises into your schedule. Maybe you always eat the same lunch every day. Change it up. Instead of that boring sandwich, opt for a salad or even a taco! Have a break between meetings or conference calls? Go outside and take a brisk walk for 10 minutes. Every day is new, treat it that way!

Make time to play – you know what I dislike the most about being an adult next to paying bills? I miss not having recess. That was my favorite time of the day when I was a kid. School stopped for an hour and I could run around with my friends and have fun. Why is it that we lose our sense of play when we grow older? Maggie has helped me to realize that it is possible to metaphorically return to the school yard. Every day we go outside and play catch in the back yard. Not only is it good bonding time for us but it is also a chance for me to relax and let go of the stress of the day.

Love unconditionally – this seems simple right? It really isn’t. So many people make it their mission to change the ones they love. Their significant other has a personality quirk that is less than endearing, why not try to lessen it or eliminate it altogether? I understand that life is about compromise but at the expense of not being able to be comfortable in your own skin? Maggie has been with me through many changes and throughout those changes, she has done nothing but support me. She loves me if I am having a bad hair day or if I have gained a few pounds. She loves the real me blemishes and all!

Be curious – whenever we take Maggie on a jaunt to the local pet store, she is more than willing to approach other dogs and other people. She wants to know more about everything in life. I jokingly tell her that she suffers from FOMO (fear of missing out) because she wants to be involved in every activity. I guess this is why I challenge myself to learn about new technologies, new books, new music, etc. The more engaged I feel, the more alive I am. I have never stopped learning.

Give thanks – whenever Maggie is presented with food, a treat, her ball, a toy, she is thankful. She is just glad that she is able to enjoy these things but mostly she is thrilled that she gets to have time with her family. As the years pass by, I am acutely aware of how tenuous life is and how in the blink of an eye, the people that we cherish may not be around for us to tell them how much we value their presence in our life. I make it a point to let the people closest to me know that I am thankful for them each and every day.

Hug your dog and let him or her know how grateful you are for the life lessons that they have shared with you. That is what I will be doing with Maggie. I could not have asked for a better teacher.

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No more words from me – just this picture!

And Another Saturday Smile

Enjoy your weekend, and don’t miss the Harvest Moon!

Another fabulous reposting of an article that first was seen on the Care2 site.

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This Man May Wear a Hard Hat, But He Sure Has a Soft Spot for Dogs

By: Laura S. September 11, 2016

About Laura

Max Kahrimanovic lives in his hard hat. It’s covered in the dust of three continents where he programs wind turbines, often at a dangerous height. But some may say Max’s greatest accomplishments unfold in the far less intricate scenarios down on the ground where he feeds hungry, and often very thirsty, stray dogs. This is the story of how Max won the trust of one of those dogs and the remarkable new life she is now beginning.

my-work1 — So close he could kiss the clouds, Max programs wind turbines internationally.

“I saw her the very first day I came to the construction site,” Max said of the shy sweetheart he encountered during his latest assignment in Turkey. “She was scared and wouldn’t approach no matter what. I would leave food and would have to walk away. Then, from the far, I would see her eating and drinking what I left for her. Slowly she started to trust me and one day she finally let me pet her on the head.”

From that day forward Karis (as Max named her) decided that she had adopted Max. She would keep watch outside his office door and she would be waiting for him when he arrived at work each morning.

Although she was once so afraid of human touch, Karis soon learned that Max was different than the others she’d encountered.

“She can be naughty at times,” Max laughs, thinking of the occasions Karis dumped over the trash cans. “She wasn’t hungry, I know that much. I was feeding her three times a day. But I guess the leftovers smelled delicious to her and she had to check it out.”

And one day, when Max arrived, Karis had a surprise for him. Overnight, she had delivered seven puppies.

“My first thought was devastation,” Max said candidly. “I know, you’ll think how can I be devastated seeing so much cuteness. But in all these years of traveling through Europe, Morocco, New Zealand, etc. I’ve seen so much misery involving these animals, that I couldn’t feel anything else at that moment.”

At this point, Max had already found a home for Karis in the U.S. and was making arrangements to transport her there. But with seven more lives to worry about, now what?

“How are we gonna manage 7 pups too?” Max wondered. “Knowing what will happen to them after I leave was devastating. I knew they will either die under car wheels, die of starvation, diseases or they will get killed by other bigger dogs that wander around there.”

So, despite the enormity of the costs and challenging logistics, Max and his wife Neli – back in Sweden – began making arrangements to transport the entire family of dogs to the U.S. for adoption. They turned to the Harmony Fund international animal rescue charity for help with the costs of the rescue.

The whole family will be coming to the U.S. soon, and Karis already has a permanent home with one of Max’s friends who has adopted internationally before. Max has no doubt that Karis will be very good to her pups during the transition as she has always been such an excellent mother.

Karis and her pups were moved to a safe location where they await travel to the U.S.

“When she had the puppies, I admired how she never went to eat their food that I gave them,” Max said. “She waited for me to get hers ready. One time I left 6 hard boiled eggs on the table for her lunch. I just stepped out to wash my hands and when I got back eggs were gone. She ate them like that, not peeled or anything.”

Max isn’t always admired for his devotion however. He said he’s known by management as “the guy who feeds strays” and that he has received warnings not to do so. But he simply can’t go against his own moral compass.

Max always makes time to offer food and water to strays like this one in Turkey.

“This is much stronger than me,” Max explains. “I can’t eat my lunch knowing there is a being, not far from me, starving and hasn’t had a piece of bread for days…. We usually work in small villages far from civilization or any bigger cities. If it is possible to buy it, then I always have one or two huge bags of dry food and some cans in the trunk of my car. And on my way from the site to my hotel, I stop and feed strays that I see. If it isn’t possible to buy dog food, then I improvise with our food by either taking extra breakfast from the hotel or just by buying extra food when I go shopping for myself. I know I can’t save them all. But for that day or that time when I meet that dog I can feed him at least and give him some water.”

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I am so pleased to promote what Max Kahrimanovic is doing and to thank Laura for writing this up in the first place.

Max’s admission in that last paragraph uses words that I have heard Jean using when I first met her back in December, 2006 when she was living in Mexico and rescuing so many street dogs and finding loving homes for them in the USA.

More floating kindness.

This time it is not deer but kangaroos!

Huge numbers of you reacted so wonderfully to my post of last Tuesday, Afloat on a Sea of Kindness, in which I republished the account of the boat Alaska Quest saving the lives of four deer that were somehow cast into the water.

One of the many comments to that post was from Barb who writes the blog Passionate about Pets.

Barb left a comment to say that she had recently published an account of drowning kangaroos being saved and I thought all you good people would enjoy reading Barb’s post.

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Drowning Kangaroos Hitch Boat Ride

This photo of kangaroos hitching a boat ride touched my heart, and I felt I had to share it with you guys.

The photo was sent to me from friends during the recent evacuation of Theodore, a small country town in Queensland, Australia, which felt the full brunt of the recent floods.

Animal losses were high during the floods with farmers losing livestock, and wild animals were no exception – many got swept away in the flood waters and drowned – but these guys got lucky.
Under normal circumstances a kangaroo would normally panic and take a swipe at a human, easily tearing him to pieces with his long, strong claws. The feet and tail are even more powerful and dangerous.

So you can imagine how hard it would be to get wild kangaroos into, and then sit, in a boat under normal circumstances . . . this is not a sight you will see often . . . but then, these were not normal circumstances.

These desperate and drowning kangaroos willingly accepted human help and were quite happy to hitch a ride to dry land. Better than the alternative.

I think even wild animals recognize when a human is trying to help them and the compassion this kind man showed to these kangaroos certainly restores my faith in human nature.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

©passionateboutpets.com

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Two very cool acts of love towards our animals!

Anyone got a story of an animal saving a human from drowning? (I bet there must be more than one account in history!)

Standing up for the future.

This is no sinecure – the future of mankind is at risk.

Very often I find a topic for Saturday that is easy on the mind. But I make no apologies for republishing, with Jennifer’s permission, a post that she published over on Transition Times yesterday. When you read it you will see clearly that promoting this today is right. For many readers may well be able to join thousands of others in showing their support for the Standing Rock Sioux tribe.

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World War III Has Begun: Which Side Are You On?

Although you wouldn’t know it from scanning the front pages of the mainstream media, a major battle in what Bill McKibben has called World War Three, the war to save the planet from human destruction, has been going down in Indian Country for the past six months.

Thousands of Native Americans, members of a whole host of tribes, have gathered at Standing Rock, North Dakota, to protest the North Dakota Access Pipeline (#NoDAPL), which was sited by the Army Corps of Engineers to run dangerously close to the Missouri River and the Standing Rock Reservation.

But as the protesters say, they are not just defending Indian country, they are defending everyone who relies on the Missouri for water—and not just humans but all life.

If there is anyone to look back at this turbulent period in human history on Earth—now coming to be known as the Anthropocene—they will surely wonder at the suicidal tendency of human civilization in the 20^th and early 21^st centuries.

Why, they will ask, would such an intelligent species willingly—even enthusiastically—engage in the poisoning of its waterways and underground water resources; the destruction of its forests; the chemical contamination of its soils and oceans; the overheating of its precious atmosphere by relentless burning of fossil fuels? Why would humans put so much of their intelligence and technological prowess into developing ever more lethal weapons of mass destruction, used to bludgeon each other? Why would they preside blithely over the extinction of millions of other species, the vicious ripping of the great ecological web of life on Earth?

Why indeed?

I know it’s hard for any of us to escape the clutter of our everyday lives, with the constant pressures and worries that beset us on the personal level. But this is precisely what is being asked of us now.

The courageous defenders out at Standing Rock dropped their ordinary lives to be part of the historic encampment protesting the stranglehold of the oil companies on our waterways and our lands. They are fighting in the courts, through the media, and most importantly with their physical presence, standing up to the bulldozers, the attack dogs and the pepper spray.

This is what McKibben’s World War Three looks like—it’s already begun. It will be fought locally, as communities and individuals wake up to the implications of the destruction and decide that hell no, they won’t take it any more.

pipeline_line_map — Oil and gas pipelines in the U.S. Image source: https://projects.propublica.org/pipelines/

In my own corner of the world, we are under assault from General Electric, wanting to create toxic waste dumps right in the middle of our small rural towns. We have a gas pipeline being constructed, despite vehement protests, through a pristine old-growth state forest. We have oil tanker trains running constantly right through our communities. Despite a thriving organic and biodynamic farm renaissance, we still have far too many pesticides, herbicides and fungicides being used locally, and too many trees being cut down.

I have been thinking and writing for some time now about how important it is to align the personal, political and planetary in our own lives and in the way we relate to the world around us. On all three of these levels, 21^st century American life is way out of balance.

It is time to focus, each one of us, on using our brief lifetimes to create balance and harmony on Earth. Sometimes the way to harmony leads through protest and discord, as is happening now in Standing Rock. Sometimes it can be as simple as choosing to support local, low-impact agriculture rather than industrial agriculture. Leaning on our political representatives to move faster on policy that will shift our society to renewable energy is key.

Wind farm in Ireland. Source: http://www.iwea.com/_wind_information

There are so many ways to get involved in this War for the Planet, many of them quite peaceful. The important thing is to get off the sidelines. Get involved. Feel the potential of this moment—it’s literally a make or break period for the future of humanity on Earth, and many other living beings too.

The brave defenders at Standing Rock are reminding us that we are all “natives” of this Earth, and we all have a stake in protecting her. Which side are you on?

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Yes, we are all natives of this world and that includes our dear animals and our wonderful animal companions.

Make a promise to yourself to make a difference; even one small difference. With that in mind, if you want to find an event close to you then the Sierra Club have a page where you can look up which event you would like to attend.

Make a difference!

Afloat on a sea of kindness!

There can never be too much trust and love in the world!

As many of you know we feed the wild deer as indeed do many of our neighbours.

So with that in mind just read the following incredible and wonderful story that recently came my way thanks to Dordie from next door.

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Quite a Catch

Awesome act of trust and love!

A once in the history of mankind kind of thing. The Best Day Of Fishing Ever! Some fishing stories are a little hard to believe but this guy has pictures to prove his story… I’ve heard of salmon jumping into boats, but never anything quite like this.

Tom Satre told the Sitka Gazette that he was out with a charter group on his 62-foot fishing vessel when four juvenile black-tailed deer swam directly toward his boat.
“Once the deer reached the boat, the four began to circle the boat, looking directly at us. We could tell right away that the young bucks were distressed.

I opened up my back gate and we helped the typically skittish and absolutely wild animals onto the boat. In all my years fishing, I’ve never seen anything quite like it! Once on board, they collapsed with exhaustion, shivering.”

“This is a picture I took of the rescued bucks on the back of my boat, the Alaska Quest. We headed for Taku Harbour .

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Once we reached the dock, the first buck that we had pulled from the water hopped onto the dock, looked back as if to say ‘thank you’ and disappeared into the forest.

After a bit of prodding and assistance, two more followed, but the smallest deer needed a little more help.

This is me carrying the little guy.

My daughter, Anna, and son, Tim, helped the last buck to its feet. We didn’t know how long they had been in the icy waters or if there had been others who did not survive.

My daughter later told me that the experience was something that she would never forget, and I suspect the deer felt the same way as well!”

I told you! Awesome!

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Kindness is the language the blind can see and the deaf can hear. – Mark Twain

Truck buddies!

Of people, dogs and mutual love!

(The second part of Peter and Leslie Sonne’s guest post. Do read the first part before today’s post.)

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It was December 2010. We didn’t need another dog. We had four at the time, one of whom had just started chemotherapy.

A staff member at our specialty vet knew of a rescue that reminded her of our beloved cattle dog, who we had lost the year before, and pushed us to contact the foster mom. Peter had really been missing his truck buddy and none of the other dogs had worked as his constant companion.

The photos melted our hearts and we contacted the foster mom, Jenn. The little girl was called Hedgehog, as she had lost much of her hair due to neglect and as it was growing back in, everyone thought she looked like a hedgehog. It was love at first sight, but Jenn diligently ensured that “Hedgy” got along with the rest of the ranch hands before approving the adoption. Peter teaching her to roll over within 5 minutes of meeting her helped seal the deal. The adoption led to an immediate name change and our Peggy Sue joined the pack. We thank Jenn for giving us the thumbs up and allowing us to share the second half of Peggy’s life.

Peggy acclimated to the pack quickly, although she was a loner. Fiercely independent, she would often be in her rocker in the great room, keeping an eye on the scary ceiling fan, while the rest of the gang was in the office or kitchen with us. She sort of just tolerated the others, although on rare occasion her nub would go up and she would play with someone for about 30 seconds – almost like she figured it was expected of her now and then.

One of Peggy’s favorites things was to go for rides in the truck. She preferred to be alone, but would grudgingly share her backseat with one or more siblings if necessary. We think she actually preferred to be with only one of us so that she could ride shotgun, resting her head on the console and gazing at us with eyes full of love. The ear massages as we meandered down the road helped!

We discovered right away that she was a foodie. While she never really begged, actually feigning a look of boredom at the human meal process, she moved with lightning speed to get any morsel that fell to the ground and the others quickly learned to not even try to out maneuver her.

Peggy was not overtly affectionate, did not like to cuddle and really did not give kisses. However, it was certainly OK for some humans to give her belly rubs, neck massages and her favorite, massages to her ears. Peggy had a signature gait where as she trotted along every few steps her back legs would do a little hop, which would propel her back end forward, causing her to look like the letter “J.” I loved to watch, as she would trot down the hall each morning beside Peter.

Last August, we found a small lump on her neck and she was diagnosed with lymphoma. She breezed through the chemotherapy and was in remission when a different lymphoma was discovered. She breezed through that treatment and all was good. She was in remission from both when she started having GI problems and unspecified infections. Initially, she was able to respond and rebound but a couple of days ago she got sick again. Hoping for the best, we treated her, but when our little foodie stopped eating, not even tempted with the tastiest morsel, we felt that she was giving us a sign.

Last night, we spent a couple of hours with her as she relaxed on the lawn. Her nose was often raised in the air as if taking in all the smells of the ranch that she loved so much. This morning, Mille, Samantha and Jake all said their goodbyes, and she accepted their kisses, which was another sign to us that she was ready to go.

As we sat with her this morning we knew that she was dancing across the Rainbow Bridge, with her signature hop, as she went to join all of our other ranch hands that have gone before. We pictured Bucky and Spencer playing in the river with Lexy and Minnie, Sundance egging Jack and Gus into a game of tag and Queenie impatiently waiting for Peggy to brief her on the ins and outs of her new pack. Big Jake happily grazes nearby and looks forward to a nap in the sun while the others watch his back.

From the bottom of our hearts we thank Dr. Merrianne Burtch from Pacific Veterinary Specialists for her initial treatment and Dr. Theresa Arteaga from Animal Cancer Center for her loving extended treatment (and both of them for their friendship). Dr. Arteaga and her fantastic staff (Jodi, Linda, Nicole and Elizabeth) always made Peggy’s treatments as relaxing as possible and this morning was no exception.

To know us is to know our dogs. To know us is to know our heartache.

Peter and Leslie

PS- Miss Peggy Sue most certainly did become Peter’s truck buddy and constant companion!

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When I was working on this post yesterday afternoon, I didn’t have a clue as to how to close it off. This from someone who is not normally lost for words.

But I wanted some words that would leave the most glorious echo or afterglow of Peggy, and of every other dog that brings out the best of love in us.

One of the followers of this place is Susan Leighton. This is her blog: Woman on the Ledge.

I will close with Susan’s words:

I guess one of the reasons I am enamored with dogs is because they give to us unconditional love. They don’t care what we look like, if we are rich or poor, they are attracted to our souls.

Delivering a new purpose in life.

Such a precious relationship!

Very frequently when I connect with dog lovers I make it clear that if they have any stories that they would like to share with you good people that they don’t hesitate to submit something. I am always blown away by these submissions. Indeed, there are two being offered to you dear readers this week.

So the first is from Maria Matthews and without any further delay from me, here it is.

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How an amazing Collie pup gave me a new purpose in life.

By Maria Matthews, 28th August 2016.

I was redundant, sitting at home, days divided between housekeeping, writing and walking Bob our dog who was then 7 years of age.

The trouble was I hate cleaning a house, and Bob an Norwegian elk-hound is allergic to being energetic.

My husband mentioned he would love to find a husky and as I was at home I agreed; I was 51 years of age and didn’t hold out much hope of finding work. Our search took us to a well known dogs rescue centre. They suggested we needed to build up our walls, as a husky needs a secure environment, plus the home and us would have to be inspected. We agreed, went home and made the necessary changes. When we returned we discovered there was one hiccup in the plan, a dog taken from the centre had to be housed indoors. We couldn’t agree to it, as Bob loves being outdoors.

I pointed this out and stressed that the backdoor is always open, but it was useless for they wouldn’t budge. The internet is a terrific place and google, God Bless him, suggested loads of places but when I rang there was no husky available. Until I contacted a lady in Easky, County Sligo (the Western side of Ireland) and she informed me she had twenty dogs for re-homing.

So on a sunny Saturday morning we, including Bob, set off. He wasn’t impressed with spending more than half an hour in the car and refused to lie down. We joked that he was watching the road, noting the sign posts, etc., in case he needed to make his own way back. However to cut a long story short, none of the twenty dogs liked him or he them. “We do have one other option,” she paused. “We have a collie cross husky who is extremely active, but she is still a pup.”

We decided to meet the pup.This time when the gate opened there was a pause of maybe thirty seconds while this tiny pup, with the biggest ears ever seen, inspected us. Then she raced into the compound, ran around Bob, jumped over him, turned about, and then ducked under him. He responded by diving down, front paws on the ground and joining in the game.

An hour later we left, with Bob snuggling up to his new companion in the back. She snored for most of the way home and once there took control of his bed, his life and everyone’s hearts.

However, we discovered a downside to having a clever pup. She loved balls, would do anything to find one, and learned how to open gates, upend the laundry basket and sneak socks and other pieces of underwear out into the garden.

She needed a job. We tried agility, and she excelled at it, but the class was too crowded for her and a distance away from the house. Then I stumbled on an article about dogs that search for people who are lost.

I began by hiding her ball. She loved this game. I made contact with Irish Search Dogs and a local man who agreed to meet with me. He was bowled over by her ability. She quickly began learning how to find people. Our new weekly regime included a drive to County Cork at 6 am on Sunday mornings, a drive of three-and-a-half hours there and another three-and-a-half back home. All for a training session of fifteen to twenty minutes. I needed to find someone closer to home. After much searching I met Fred Quinn a dog trainer of 40 years who agreed to take a look at her.

He was impressed but decided our training methods needed adjusting. And she loved it. We searched: woods; water; urban areas; for our hidden helpers. It became a challenge to think of new places to hide. So we used cars, car boots, trees, dried out ditches, derelict sheds, wheelie bins, massive drainage pipes under the roads, and on one occasion a huge hollowed out hole in the ground with shrubs, etc., covering the opening. And on each occasion she found our volunteer missing body. Then we upped her training further and began using dead scent.

At each change in her training she took it with a big wag of her tail.

She continues to love it. Three years ago we met with a group who recover and rescue people from the rivers and lakes in the County. They were intrigued with her and asked us to join their group. Now it was my turn to train, I learnt how to cox a boat, took more first aid courses, learnt how to walk a river bed, swam in the river Boyne on a star-filled night, learned how to cross a weir safely and feed a boat across it by rope. I think Ellie viewed my training sceptically as she sat on the boat and watched with interest.

When we are on call out, we are a team. We have worked through rain, snow, freezing temperatures even having a picnic in a wood on the top of a hillside during a snow storm and all through it this medium-sized dog was urging me to get up and move again. She knows she has a job to do and is eager to complete it.

In the past two years she has helped in nine recoveries. People wonder why we do it and I suppose now the answer simply is, because she has this great ability or gift and it would be a shame not to make use of it. However, the greatest gift she has given me are the friendships I have gained and the extra life-skills made during the past few years. It is probably down to all of this extra or new found confidence that I have a blog site, two books published and a great amount of energy.

And I thank my four legged friend, my dear Ellie, for bringing me on so many adventures.

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Not only is this a wonderful story but it is yet another insight into the precious relationship that so many of us humans have with our dogs. Beautiful!

I’m also going to close by including a little of what was in Maria’s covering email.

Ellie has been working now as a search and recovery dog for the past three years and more than proven her worth to all around us.

I would love to think other people might read it and consider doing something with their own dog even if it was only to bring them on visits to elderly relatives as I have noticed that my own father and mother-in-law get comfort from Bob’s visits to them.

Many times I stop and ponder about these very strange times we are now living in. How they have the potential to be most unsettling.

Then just as many times I know that while I have my darling Jeannie in my life and so many dogs who make me feel so special to them those strange times ‘out there’ are, to me, like water off a duck’s back.

Maria’s story just reinforced that feeling in me and I bet I’m not the only one affected in that way by Maria’s words!

The power of love …

….. for the animals in our lives.

In yesterday’s post Senior Smiles there was a lovely exchange between Cindy and me. Cindy wrote:

Just a few days ago I relived in my mind the pain of losing our 16 year old Bichon- and that was a year and a half ago! Honestly, that is my biggest fear of adopting another dog- esp an older one.

Cindy then, mistakenly in my view, thought that, “it’s selfish to hang on to grief like this, and I REALLY don’t mean to“, to which I replied:

Grief is not a selfish attitude, far from it! You will know when it’s the right time to adopt, and love, a new dog.

You can then easily imagine my pleasure when thinking of what to write for today’s post to see a recent item over on the Care2 site about our commitment to our pets. About our love for our pets.

The item was called How Far Would You Go For Your Pet? and is republished here today. I would like to dedicate this post to Cindy! Cindy is the author of the blog: Mermaid in a Mudslide.

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How Far Would You Go for Your Pet?

By: TreeHugger. August 23, 2016

There is simply no denying the power that pets hold over us.

I suppose there are a number of reasons why we love our dogs and cats (and others) so much, but surely their innocence and unconditional love rank right up there on top. Plus they’re cute, and furry, and funny, and sweet, and overall good companions. But I have to think there is something about them providing access to the larger animal world in general as well – domesticated animals are like a bridge between us civilized humans and wildlife, and for this they serve an important role. If we can find compassion for our companion animals, in many cases that compassion seeps out and becomes extended to other elements of the natural world as well.

And we really, really have compassion for our pets. Like, approaching fervency. Last year Americans spent over $60 billion on their pets, a number expected to increase by another $2 billion this year. That. Is. So. Much. Money. If you spent $20 per second, it would take 95 years to spend $60 billion.

But even more telling than how much we spend on our pets is the other sacrifices we would make for them. With pets on their mind, the website Abodo conducted a survey of 2,000 dog and cat owners and asked them all kinds of bordering-on-Sophie’s-Choice type of questions. The following results display just how cuckoo we are for our creature cohabitants.

See more of the survey’s results here.

Written by Melissa Breyer, this post originally appeared on TreeHugger.

Photo Credit: dougwoods/Flickr

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The power of (unconditional) love!

Dusk to Dawn Commitment!

The love that exists between so many humans and so many dogs!

Yesterday, after I had returned from my morning bike ride with our local group of friends, Brandy was incredibly pleased to see me. To the extent that he crouched down, his head and front legs on the hardwood floor, his rear hips still up in the air, so to speak (Jean said that this posture is called a play bow), and everything about him signaling that he wanted to play with me.

I could not resist adopting a similar physical position and then we both rolled onto our backs with our heads locked together ‘cheek to cheek’ in the most exquisite and intimate bond between dog and human.

Such gorgeous events produce a loyalty and affection from me (and, I suspect, from Brandy too) that would mean that there would be no limit within me if I had to protect and save Brandy from harm.

Countless numbers of you dear readers will know precisely what I feel and how I expressed it.

Thus the example of others showing not the slightest hesitation in rescuing a dog trapped underground both makes sense and makes us feel so proud. Here it is reproduced from a recent Care2 posting.

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Firefighters Dig Until Dawn to Rescue Underground Dog

By: Laura S. August 14, 2016 About Laura
Could it be that when you name a dog “Tiger” you can expect him to be especially territorial? Well, perhaps that’s why this dog in Gulfport, Miss., decided to race down the street in pursuit of a neighborhood cat. Only problem is, there’s something just as dangerous as quicksand in the concrete “jungle” and it swallowed poor Tiger just as quickly.

Tiger fell deep into a concrete culvert pipe near the intersection of Mississippi Avenue and Tyler Street around 9 p.m. one evening, and it wasn’t until residents exhausted their own resources that they decided to call for help at around 3 a.m. the next morning.

Gulfport Fire Department Battalion Chief Chris Henderson, along with seven other firefighters and a pair of workers from the public works department, began working together to extricate the dog.

It was a tedious rescue because the pipe was far too narrow for any rescue worker to fit through, so the team had to cut their way through the pipe.

“We counted the joints in the pipe to estimate the distance, then walked off the distance on the top above the ground,” Henderson told the local ABC News affiliate.

The firefighters dug down and then drilled holes to locate Tiger before bringing in a concrete saw to cut through the pipe and reach him.

By 7 a.m. Tiger was pulled to safety and reunited with his guardian who planned to take him to the veterinarian as a precautionary measure although the dog appeared unharmed.

(All the photographs are Credit: Chris Henderson of Gulfport Fire Department / Facebook)

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Nothing further to add from me!

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Life Lessons from Maggie

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This Man May Wear a Hard Hat, But He Sure Has a Soft Spot for Dogs

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Drowning Kangaroos Hitch Boat Ride

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World War III Has Begun: Which Side Are You On?

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Quite a Catch

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How an amazing Collie pup gave me a new purpose in life.

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How Far Would You Go for Your Pet?

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Firefighters Dig Until Dawn to Rescue Underground Dog

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