Salty- A tribute in Retrospect
Posted 15 August 2008 - 09:27 AM
I found you at the high school, remember by the old wool mill? You followed me home and that was the old days so on that country school bus you and I went home together.
You helped me at our old ranch. You warned me of the rattlesnake, that Pop then shot and ate.
You were a good dog, maybe not the best dog with stock, something had happened to you? Maybe thats why you ran away from some other farm? Or were you dumped?
But I loved you.
When Pop got sick we were forced to sell the ranch, we had to give all our animals away.
The man that bought the ranch kept you and I greived and grieved for I missed you. But I couldn't help you Salt, I couldn't help my family or my poor sick father.
When Cap came into my life, many years later, sitting there looking at him I called your name and little Cap turned and gave me your look.
So we come around. Thank you, because that brought me comfort and healing.
Good Dog, Salt.....walk on.
Posted 15 August 2008 - 09:52 AM
Poetry in motion with Sophie, Taz, Meg, Ike, and puppy Gus!
And Craig waiting at the bridge.
See profiles of many top competitors from the 2011 National Sheepdog Finals in Carbondale, Colorado
My Flickr page
Posted 15 August 2008 - 07:43 PM
A little dog-angel waits.
With the other dogs 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.”
And his Master far down on the earth below,
As he sits in his easy chair
Forgets sometimes, and he whistles low
For the dog that is not there;
And the little dog-angel cocks his ears
And dreams that his Master's call he hears.
And I know when at length his Master waits
Outside in the dark and cold
For the hand of Death to open the gates
That lead to the Courts of Gold,
The little dog-angel's eager bark
Will comfort his soul while he's still in the dark.
Posted 16 August 2008 - 09:13 AM
Posted 16 August 2008 - 07:02 PM
Twenty years now,
I was surprised after so many years how painful leaving that dog was.
Where'd they go?
I dont know.
I sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they've gone.
And sometimes late at night,
When I'm bathed in the firelight,
The moon comes calling a ghostly white
And I recall,
(from "Like A Rock" by Bob Seeger)
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