GOOD PUP PIE

Take 1 puppy dog, roll and play with it until slightly

pampered, and add the following ingredients:

1 cup patience

1 cup understanding

1 pinch correction

1 cup hard work

2 cups praise

1 1/2 cups fun

Blend well. Heat with the warmth of the heart until the
consistency is such that dog and handler are one.

Rainbow Bridge Return

by Joy LaCaille

The little dog arrived at the Rainbow Bridge, and a pack of dogs rushed up
to greet him. He braced himself, expecting a fight, but this was the first
pack that wagged their tails and kissed him instead of attacking him.
It was beautiful here, and everyone was nice to him. None of them had been
born in a puppy mill, like he had, and used for dog-bait fighting and left
to die in a shelter because he was a mix-breed battle-scarred cur and wasn't
cute. They explained why they were waiting... for their humans who loved them. 

"What is love?" he asked, and God let him go back to earth, and find out.
Warm, and dark, he squeezed in with the others and waited for the day to be
born. Scared, he held back as long as he could, but finally got dragged out,
by his hind feet. Hands without fur held him gently and rubbed him dry and
opened his mouth and guided him to a warm nipple with milk. He didn't get a
good hold on it, because one of his big fat brothers pushed him aside. The
human hand moved the other puppy to another nipple and held his body, so he could drink.

"Ahhh, that's better, " he thought, and drank until his jaws got tired and
he curled up to sleep next to his warm hairy mother. "I remember this," he
mused... "Too bad I'll have to grow up to be hit, left out in the cold and
rain, and used for dog-bait fighting, and die as an unclaimed rescue dog. I
remember what it's like, being a dog." he thought sadly.
That night, he crawled up to his mother and tried to nurse, but he kept
getting pushed off to the side. When they were full, the big brothers and
sisters got their bottoms cleaned and he finally latched on to a nipple, but
the human hands weren't there to hold him up, and there wasn't any milk in
any of the nipples, anyway. He was weak and so tiny. It was even hard to
stay upright, and he fell over on his back and couldn't right himself.
So he began to cry, and suddenly the human hands were there, holding him up
and puting a rubber thing in his mouth. It didn't taste or feel like
mother, but it was warm and made the ache in his tummy go away.
He was having trouble breathing ... His lungs weren't fully developed,
because he had waited too long to join the others in the womb, as he took
one last romp at the Rainbow Bridge. He could feel the heartbeat of the
human, who had laid him on her chest and covered him with a soft cloth,
keeping him warm, and soothing his boney body with gentle circling touches.
He kept thinking of his new friends who had been so nice to him at the
bridge and asked God if he could go back. God said "Yes, but not just yet.
You wanted to experience Love."

So for several hours (seemed like days but it was dark and he couldn't tell
what time it was), the human supplemented his feeding and let him experience
the warmth of his mother's body and tongue, and the pile of warm soft
littermates. He got weaker, and the human held him more often, leaving the
littermates to sleep in a pile while he got carressed, kissed, and got to
listen to the heartbeat which was strong and loving.
Finally God came back and asked, "are you ready to come back to the Rainbow
Bridge?".  "Yes, he responded," with a little sorrow, because the human didn't want to
let him go, and was crying.  He pushed the air out of his lungs and floated back to the Rainbow Bridge
and looked back at the human, who was still crying and holding the limp body
that he had borrowed for his trip.

"Thank you, God," he said. "Love is beautiful, and I will wait near the
Bridge and let the human know, when she arrives, that I loved her, too."
 

Dogs master human art of inspiring guilt

by Mickey Guisewite

As the mother of a 5-year-old, I'm still working on my official "Motherly
Stare of Guilt" -- that wordless, steely gaze my mother used to give that
made me want to crawl under a chair.

To learn the art of the stare, I'm taking lessons from the reigning Queen of
Guilt in our family: my dog.

"She's staring at me," I whisper to my husband. "She's staring at me, and
she knows I'm going for a run without her."

"Don't make eye contact," my husband whispers back. "I'll divert her
attention with a squeaky toy, and you sneak out the back door."

Half an hour later, I quietly open the back door to find her forlornly
staring at me.

"OK, OK, I'm really sorry," I say to her, instantly filled with remorse.
"How can I make it up to you?"

I give her a treat. She stares at me. I brush her. She stares at me. I
take her in the back yard to play fetch. She stares at me.

"All right! Fine! You win! I'll take you out for a run."

When we return I feel certain that I've finally made my dog happy.

That is, until I look down and see those unblinking eyes fixated on me.
"What?!" I ask her. "What more could I possibly do?!"

Dog guilt. It's guilt you feel at the office. Guilt you feel at the mall.
Guilt you feel on vacation. It's guilt that never sleeps.

At 3 in the morning I tiptoe past her for a glass of water and her eyes pop
open -- "Anything for me? Did you want to play? Want to go for a walk?
Were you thinking of petting me? Just in case you need a friend, I'm here
waiting."

I slip down the stairs to the kitchen in the morning and she's already
sitting next to the refrigerator -- "What about me?"
I slither out the front door to get the paper -- "What about me?"

I sit down with my cup of coffee and the front page only to find a head on
my knee and those eyes staring through the paper --"What about me?"

I stare back at the set of eyes trained on my face and ask my dog, "How can
you possibly make me feel guilty? You're the one who regularly does
something unspeakable on the rug four minutes after it's back from the
cleaners. You're the one who's chewed the noses off of every stuffed animal
in this house. And I'm the one who feels bad? Ha."

She stares back at me, and I instantly feel guilty for ever having had such
thoughts. I put down my paper and coffee, grab a leash and am dragged out
the front door.

When it comes to guilt, I'll always be 10 steps behind my dog.

AGILITY TIPS FROM ONE DOG TO ANOTHER
 

First, when the instructor is first explaining the
course, break free and run the entire course as fast
as you can to check everything out before the other
dogs get a chance. This will give you that
all-important advantage later on.

When you have satisfied yourself that none of the
obstacles contains any food whatsoever, tear over to
the instructor's bag of goodies and quickly find,
open, and devour the bag of bait tidbits that were
supposed to be used throughout the class. This
will give you energy for the upcoming instructions.
 
(That big sigh you hear coming from the
instructor is no doubt satisfaction that finally he
has such a smart and ENTHUSIASTIC pupil in his class.)
 
The chute and the tunnels--jump over them several
times BEFORE going through. This limbers you up and
increases the lung power of your owner.
 
The tire--this is basically a swing, so place both
legs through the tire, rest on your elbows, and swing
back and forth.
Grinning while you do it amuses the spectators.
 
The A-frame---FUN! Run up one side and down the
other; then back up and down, then back up and down,
then back up...

well, you get the picture. If you do it fast
enough, your owner will get plenty of exercise trying
to meet you at the ends to make you hit those
"contact" points (whatever THEY are).
 
Oh, and you should stop at the top of the A-frame
because you can see all over the neighborhood! Neat!
Be sure to bark ferociously to let everyone know that
you are King or Queen of the Hill!
 
By now, the bait bag will have been replenished,
and all this exercise will have made you hungry, so
tear over there and get a snack! See how the
instructor runs! GREAT exercise!
 
The see-saw----this one needs taming to learn who
is boss. Stand in the center and pounce HARD on it
with your front feet, and it will become submissive
and go back on the ground.
 
The compost pile--not a regulation obstacle. The
trick is to see how much of the lawn clippings you can
scarf up before your feet sink too deeply into the
decomposing pile. Be sure to JUMP out of the pile,
which will scatter the clippings back on the yard
where they no doubt should be.
 
The pause table--this one is a bummer--BIG time.
You will be expected to actually cease all activity
for a few seconds (seems like hours). To pass the
time, pretend to start to jump down and then pull back
just as your owner starts forward to correct you. HAH!
Fools them every time.
 
The weave poles--nothing more than a funny looking
high jump, especially when they are set at 45° angles
for training. Be sure to get a head start and LEAP
over all of them to the other side. (Boy dogs should
be especially careful to leap HIGH).
 
(That sigh from your owner undoubtedly indicates
the same satisfaction the instructor felt at the
beginning of the class)
 
The sunflowers in the garden--again, not a
regulation obstacle, but you will find they make much
easier weave poles because if you swish your bum just
so, they fall down to your height which is where
everything should be anyway!
 

OLD DOG IN A LOCKET

Old dog in a locket
That lies next to my heart
I will always love you
As I did right from the start
You were right beside me
Through the darkest of my days
It was your kind and gentle nature
That made me want to stay.

Now I hold you in my arms
Your breath still warm against my hand
Our hearts still beat together
And I wonder if you understand
Through the hours that I held you
Before the light did leave your soul
I knew a way to keep you
Forever in my hold.

I snipped the hair from around your eyes
So I would always see
The beauty that surrounds me
Even in times of need
I snipped the hair from around your ears
So I would always hear
Music in the distance
To quiet any fears.

I snipped the hair from across your back
To bring me strength in times of need
And the power of your essence
Would always be with me.
I snipped the hair from around your heart
That beats in time with mine
So I would know that love would find me
At some distant time.

And so your life slipped out of mine
On a quiet, spring-like day
But I knew that part of you
Was always here to stay.
Old dog in a locket
That lays next to my heart
I will always love you
Even though we had to part.

TWO LOST SOULS
by Shelly Guidotti

"Did you hear that?" the old dog shouted.
They all ran to the front of their kennel doors to see if someone was coming to "pick them."
"Sorry," he said to the other dogs as his ears fell down from their perked position.
"I could have sworn I heard voices saying, "Isn't he cute?
It's Christmas, can't we take him home with us?"
"You must have been dreaming again old man," said the dog in the cage
next to him. "Anyway, what's the big deal about getting picked up as a Christmas gift?
We've all been through that routine and look where it got us."
The word "home" meant little to these shelter dogs.
"Just once, I'd like to feel the warmth of a hand stroking my head,"
said the old dog. "I'd like to be the one who kisses the tears off a sad face.
I'd like to curl up next to a fire instead of this cold concrete. It hurts my bones."
He curled up and sighed as the others said, "The only place you're
going to find that is in your dreams, old man."
Hank's wife had only been gone a year, but the pain was as fresh as if time had stood still.
He was an old man now, alone and longed for the comfort that he knew
no other person would ever be able to give to him again.
What would his life become without her by his side?
Hank's cupboards were close to bare now, and although he didn't want
to go out, he knew he should at least pick up the basics. He drove slowly
down the side streets, for freeway driving had become too challenging.
Suddenly, the car started chugging and sputtering until finally the
engine quit altogether. One of the basic needs he forgot was fuel for the car!
So he coasted over next to the curb, spotting a building within
walking distance. Hopefully, they'd let him use their phone.
He walked into an office area and rang the bell for service, but no one came.
He spotted another door going outside, failing to notice the sign posted "Employees Only".
As Hank walked out, he was overwhelmed by yaps, barks and insane jumping from
dogs all sizes and shapes. He then realized he had unintentionally gone to the dog shelter.
Slowly, he walked down the concrete aisle looking for an attendant.
Three kennels down on the right, the old dog calmly sat there. Why
should the old dog get excited? No one would want him. But, he sensed a
need and couldn't resist offering a kind look and a gentle wag of the tail.
As Hank neared the old dog's cage, he laced his fingers through the
chain link to steady his gait and the first feeling of comfort he'd remembered
in over a year came from a wet nose and lick across his arthritic fingers.
Just then a voice of authority sounded, and Hank jumped.
"I'm sorry sir, you aren't supposed to be in this area!" she said.
Luckily Hank didn't know he had walked into the "final area" where
unclaimed dogs were scheduled to be put down.
There went the nudge and lick thing again. Hank looked down
to the most pleading eyes he'd ever seen.
Ignoring the attendants order to leave, Hank asked if he could see the dog closer?
Her demeanour changed completely and her sternness melted away.
She had forced herself to be this way so she could do the part of her job she despised.
She brought the old dog out and instantly the two souls
~once so lost -- found reason to hope.
Hank's cupboards were now filled, a warm fire crackled and the old
dog smiled inside as he remembered "only in your dreams." Closing his eyes
he felt Hank's hand stroking his head whispering "sleep in heavenly peace".
It was Christmas after all

How do I Love thee?

I love thee agreeably - enough to let you on the bed after a run
through the damp leaves, mud and slug infested gardens
I love thee steadfastly - enough to devote a year to raising you from a
wobbly speck into a strong healthy adult (who promptly attempts to seize control)
I love thee passionately - despite your repeated efforts to probe my ears,
eyes and mouth with the same tongue you use for various other activities
I love thee well - though you use me as a napkin at every opportunity
I love thee madly - despite the various bodily functions you have performed
at inappropriate moments and in inappropriate places
I love thee truly - despite the" bladder curfew" I have lived by for many years
I love thee truly - despite the" doggie land mines" hidden in the grass
I love thee absolutely – because you never (well, hardly ever) hog the remote control
I love thee gratefully – because you stay by my side or on my side
I love thee devotedly - more than clean carpeting, clothing, furniture or walls
I love thee bravely – enough to battle the indomitable flea on your behalf
I love thee monetarily – enough to put the vet's children through college
I love thee openly – I will bear any embarrassment for your furry sake
I love thee totally - more than free time, excess cash or a predictable life
 

New Puppy

Don't smell crotches, don't eat plants.
Don't steal food or underpants.
Don't eat my socks, don't grab my hair . . .
DON'T RIP THE STUFFING FROM THAT CHAIR!
Don't eat those peas! Don't touch that bush!
Don't chew my shoes ... What IS that mush?
Eat your cookie, drink your drink.
Outta the toilet! Outta the sink!!
AWAY FROM THE CAT BOX, IT'S FOR THE CAT!!
(And MUST you kiss me? After that???)
Yes, raising a puppy is not for the lazy!
Though puppies are funny, they're also quite crazy.
But don't despair, though its toil and strife.
After 3 years, you'll get back your life!
So, let's go for "walkies", you can "do your thing".
(And perhaps I'll get back my GOOD DIAMOND RING!)

A Living Love

If you ever love an animal, there are three days in your life you will always remember . . .

The first is a day, blessed with happiness, when you bring home your young new friend. You may have spent weeks deciding on a breed. You may have asked numerous opinions of many vets, or done long research in finding a breeder. Or, perhaps in a fleeting moment, you may have just chosen that silly looking mutt in a shelter -- simply because something in its eyes reached your heart. But when you bring that chosen pet home, and watch it explore, and claim its special place in your hall or front room -- and when you feel it brush against you for the first time -- it instils a feeling of pure love you will carry with you through the many years to come.

The second day will occur eight or nine or ten years later. It will be a day like any other. Routine and unexceptional. But, for a surprising instant, you will look at your long time friend and see age where you once saw youth. You will see slow deliberate steps where you once saw energy. And you will see sleep when you once saw activity. So you will begin to adjust your friend's diet -- and you may add a pill or two to her food. And you may feel a growing fear deep within yourself, which bodes of a coming emptiness. And you will feel this uneasy feeling, on and off, until the third day finally arrives.

And on this day -- if your friend and whatever higher being you believe in have not decided for you, then you will be faced with making a decision of your own -- on behalf of your lifelong friend, and with the guidance of your own deepest Spirit. But whichever way your friend eventually leaves you -- you will feel as long as a single star in the dark night.

If you are wise, you will let the tears flow as freely and as often as they must. And if you are typical, you will find that not many in your circle of family or friends will be able to understand your grief, or comfort you.

But if you are true to the love of the pet you cherished through the many joy-filled years, you may find that a soul -- a bit smaller in size than your own -- seems to walk with you, at times, during the lonely days to come.

And at moments when you least expect anything out of the ordinary to happen, you may feel something brush against your leg -- very very lightly.

And looking down at the place where your dear, perhaps dearest, friend used to lie -- you will remember those three significant days. The memory will most likely to be painful, and leave an ache in your heart--

As time passes the ache will come and go as if it has a life of its own. You will both reject it and embrace it, and it may confuse you. If you reject it, it will depress you. If you embrace it, it will deepen you. Either way, it will still be an ache.

But there will be, I assure you, a fourth day when -- along with the memory of your pet -- and piercing through the heaviness in your heart -- there will come a realization that belongs only to you. It will be as unique and strong as our relationship with each animal we have loved, and lost. This realization takes the form of a Living Love -- like the heavenly scent of a rose that remains after the petals have wilted, this Love will remain and grow -- and be there for us to remember. It is a love we have earned. It is the legacy our pets leave us when they go. And it is a gift we may keep with us as long as we live. It is a Love which is ours alone. And until we ourselves leave, perhaps to join our Beloved Pets -- it is a Love we will always possess.

I LOVED YOU BEST
by Jim Willis,

So this is where we part, My Friend,
and you'll run on, around the bend,
gone from sight, but not from mind,
new pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on, I'll find the strength,
life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,
but they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
take with you this...I loved you best.
 

I Pity the Man

I pity the man who has never known
The pleasure of owning a pup;
Who never has watched his funny ways
In the business of growing up.

I pity the man who enters his gate
Alone and unnoticed at night,
No dog to welcome him joyously home
With his frantic yelps of delight.

I pity the man who never receives,
In hours of bitterest woe,
Sympathy shown by a faithful dog
In a way only he seems to know.

I pity the man with a hatred of dogs;
He is missing from life something fine;
For the friendship between a man and his dog
Is a feeling almost divine.
 

Yes, I am a Show Dog!
By Marian Whitley

They asked if I’m a show dog,
I heard my Mom say "No".
She said that I was better,
And didn’t need to go.

I show my family that I love them,
With hugs and kisses true,
With extra special tenderness,
When one is sick or blue.

I show my family that I care,
Almost every day,
When strangers pass by our house,
I shoo them all away.

I show my family I adore them,
When I greet them at the door,
With happy yips and wagging tail,
Who could ask for any more?

I show my family that I’m loyal,
And love them all the same,
When they make mistakes with me,
Or forget to play my favourite game.

I show my kids that I’ll protect them,
When Monsters come in the night,
I chase them all out the window,
And cuddle to ease the fright.

So I may not be a show dog,
With pretty hair and bows,
But my family, they do love me,
And it’s for them that I do show.
 

Dogs Who've Shared our Lives

"They will not go quietly,
the dogs who've shared our lives.
In subtle ways they let us know
their spirit still survives.
Old habits still make us think
we hear a barking at the door.
Or step back when we drop
a tasty morsel on the floor.
Our feet still go around the place
the food dish used to be,
And, sometimes, coming home at night,
we miss them terribly.
And although time may bring new friends
and a new food dish to fill,
That one place in our hearts
belongs to them...
and always will."

WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE OLD ONES

The ones that are past, their glory gone by,
The ones that didn't win, however they try,
The ones that did win, but later turned shy,
The first one you bought, that had a light eye.
They're eating their heads off, the food bills are high.

Find them good homes, the answer is clear,
But the only good home that mine wants is here.
Their own special sofa, covered with hairs,
They all cut their teeth on the dining room chairs.
The safe and familiar paths of their days,
The garden, the outing, their own funny ways
That only I know... and even their food
If not given by me, wouldn't taste half as good.

So now I'm deep in old ones, who're not good at all
Who clutter the sitting room, kitchen and hall,
Who need to be brushed, to be walked, to be fed,
Who only want me to put them to bed!
They're faithful and loving and set in their ways,
So I'm stuck with them all, for the rest of their days,
But I have to confess that when we do have to part
I'll miss them so much... it will just break my heart.

A Christmas Tale

"This old one, we will never find a place for him,' said the man with the hat, "he is too old and ugly, nobody wants him in their home. People want young dogs with pedigrees. Not such an ugly sheepdog," he snuffed and pushed his hat tighter on his head as if confirming his words. The other man put down the food bucket, '"Say, is this necessary. You know how much I dislike it," he protested, "and Christmas is nearby," he added a bit illogically. The other was not impressed. "Then you wait until after Christmas, see that you get rid of him." Arguing, they fell through the green door which separated the shelter from the rest of the building. Their voices reached nearly the ears of the old dog. The planks he was laying on started to hurt his old bones, and with much effort he turned on his other side. Suddenly a sunbeam came through the window high on the wall, it struck his nose and he closed his eyes. There it was again, the pleasant feeling, as if nothing had changed and the hand of the old man was caressing him. These were the happy days ... when he was sleeping on his own mattress beside the bed of his master. Always he was the first one awake and waited patiently 'til he heard the voice of the old man. "So, are you here again, old fellow, good morning." Then he put his head on the blanket near the hand of the one he loved most, and he closed his eyes, and waited, and there it was, the pleasant warm feeling of the caressing hand. He enjoyed it quite a time, before the old man got up, and they started the day together. These days, in the mind of the old dog, fulfilled only by long walks, sometimes to the park, but sometimes, also with the car to the forest or to the beach, although lately it happened less, and thereafter resting, laying down on the feet of his master in front of the fireplace. Yes, those were the good days, for the dog as well for the old man. But then there was the one morning, when he waited to hear the voice, which he would know out of thousands with patience he waited, very long, and then he did what a wolf would do when he feels lonely. He howled and howled, but he did not get any answer other people came after some time. Some of them he knew, such as the neighbor. But strangers took his master away. He himself followed a friendly older woman. Full of trust that he would see his old master soon again but they arrived at a big building with only many outside kennels, with all different kinds of dogs, barking at the newcomer. There he was put inside, in a kennel and the door closed behind him. His long wait began. The days passed by, but the person he was waiting for never did show up. Slowly the memories faded, only sometimes, as at this moment when the sun warmed his old head, then it was like in the past, the warmth did well to him. The days were colder and shortened, and sometimes he shivered and did not want to leave his kennel at all, he became stiff, the younger dogs were racing around and playing. But his meant nothing to him, he wanted to rest. It became dark in the shelter. Some of the other dogs were sleeping, some were running around, restless, the two men were gone quite a while. The dog had not touched his food. The last day he was not hungry at all. The night came up and it became quiet outside the snow was falling and the distant sound of church bells came through the night. Then there was a light outside the window as if the sun was rising. The old dog was awake, but the other dogs were deeply asleep. Even when the green door opened and a bright light filled the place, not one of them woke up. In the open door stood a stranger, but in a strange way he seemed to know him. Shivering he got up and walked towards this person, a stream of warmth fulfilled him when the hand touched his nose, passing the kennels with the sleeping dogs, he followed through the doors, opening soundless. Although it was snowing he did not feel cold at all. In front of the building stood a sled, with plenty of different dogs. All happy, tail-wagging and barking, strange, the dogs in the kennels did not seem to hear it. Without hesitation, the old dog jumped in the sled and wondered how easy it was for his old body. At the sign of the leader, the dogs took off so quick, the surrounding faded away, time and distance vanished, all at once they stood in front of a big house, which was familiar to him. It looked like the house where he lived with the old man. In front of the house, there were meadows with groups of trees and small rivers. It was warm, and the trees and the grass were green, but the best was all the other dogs playing, or resting in the shadow of the trees. Some of them chewing on bones or drinking water from the rivers. The sled had disappeared and the trekking dogs joined the other. The old dog entered the building, passed a few rooms, strange enough he knew precisely where to go, and when he reached the last door, he knew what he would find behind it. The room was only lighted by a fireplace and it felt good after all the sunshine outside. From a chair near to the fireplace came a voice he had not heard in a long time, "COME TO ME. I am so happy to have you with me." The old dog cried out of happiness, his whole body was wagging like his tail. He rubbed himself against the knees of his old friend and pushed his muzzle into the hand, which started to cuddle him, with a deep sigh, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the greatest feeling a dog can have. It was late when in the shelter, the man with the food buckets opened the green door. He filled the bowls of the other dogs with food and fresh water. When he reached the outer kennel of the old dog, he saw him laying on his side on the wooden planks. Before his hands opened the door, he knew that this was no normal sleep. 'Poor old chap' he mumbled, looking at the stiff body. In his heart he was relieved that he was taken off his unpleasant task. He took the body of the dog outside in a barn, where he left him to bury him later on in the playing fields. When he headed back to the shelter, he noticed his trace in the snow, 'a white Christmas, that's long time ago' he thought. But what he did not see, were the other traces of the sled, starting at the outer door, crossing the snowfield and vanishing at the end, like somebody had wiped it off.

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