Angels Sometimes Have 4 Legs
CHEYENNE
By Catherine Moore
'Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
'I saw the car, Dad.. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then, turned away and settled back. At home, I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day, I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived..
But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned and then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon, I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session, he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day, I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one, but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen, a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement..
'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him; that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in, I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'
'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog..'
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. 'I'll take him,' I said..
I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house, I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.
'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog, I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples..
'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me… 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words, Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.
We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when, suddenly, the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him.. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently.. Then, Dad was on his knees, hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together, he and Cheyenneexplored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew andCheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded and he and Cheyennemade many friends. Then, late one night, I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe, and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned, overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And, then, the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'
'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.
Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter, his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father, and the proximity of their deaths. And, suddenly, I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly, and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
Life Saving Dogs-Two Stories
November 2, 2009 by doggymom
Filed under Dog Heros, Guest Bloggers
Life Saving Dogs: Two Stories
Eve. Rottweiler and extraordinary service dog. When her owner, Kathie, a paraplegic with multiple sclerosis realized the used truck she had just purchased was on fire as she drove it home faced a fiery death, Eve ignored every natural instinct to save Kathie's life.
The truck had suddenly begun fishtailing as Kathie was on her way home with it. She got it stopped and pulled over, then realized the cab was filling with black smoke. Kathie pushed Eve out of the cab, then shoved her wheelchair out of the door, but then couldn't find the wheelchair in all the smoke.
Instead of running from the fire, Eve stayed with Kathie, grabbing her ankle and pulling her from the truck as Kathie was about to pass out from the smoke. She continued to tug Kathie farther from danger, ignoring the now raging flames, not stopping until they were in a ditch about ten feet from the truck.
Emergency personnel arrived and, seeing that the fire was about to reach the gas tank, shouted for Kathie to move farther away from the huge blast that was about to happen. She tried, in desperation, but couldn't move herself.
Even with the proximity of the flames, Eve stayed with Kathie. She calmly positioned herself at Kathie's side, putting her collar in easy reach. Once Kathie had a good grip on the collar, Eve dragged her another forty feet to safety as policemen and emergency personnel looked on.
Eve received an award for bravery, well earned!
Miakoda. 44 pound fawn American Pit Bull Terrier. Family pet, nanny dog. Out for a walk — on a leash — with her owner and baby in a stroller in their own neighborhood, on their own street. Children were playing outside on a sunny September afternoon in 2007 when a neighborhood dog, a 100+ pound Labrador mix, over twice Miakoda's size and larger than the woman who owned her, charged out of a front door and straight for the baby in the stroller. He couldn't see Miakoda because she was on the other side of the stroller, out of his line of sight. He wasn't looking for a dog fight, he was after a baby in a stroller.
Miakoda was the only protection they had and she took her position between her family and the snarling dog.
When the Lab mix hit her, she flew up in the air and landed on her back and the dog attacked Miakoda instead of the baby. A couple of people came to help, one grabbing the baby out of harm's way, the other trying to separate the two dogs. Mia's owner told him to grab Miakoda, knowing that she wouldn't bite a human being, then she reached for the Lab mix, but before she could grab him, he bit down on her thigh and shook hard, leaving her with deep tissue bruises and puncture wounds.
When her owner was attacked, Miakoda launched herself at the big black dog again, hanging on for dear life as the dog over twice her size bit and shook her. The Lab mix' owner finally came out and instead of pulling his dog away, he began beating Miakoda, apparently trying to beat her to death. Others came to help, finally pulling the dogs apart and the Lab's owner off of Miakoda, but before anyone could catch their breath, he returned with a shotgun and, in front of a neighborhood full of children, right next to her owner, he shot and killed Miakoda. She screamed and went limp. And died. But the baby she had watched over since even before his birth was alive and safe.
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Guest Post: All About Police Dogs
October 5, 2009 by doggymom
Filed under Dog Heros, Guest Bloggers
All About Police Dogs
While most of us think of our dogs as the family pet and ourselves as the people who hold down jobs, some dogs actually do work for a living. Among those are police dogs. Police dogs, also known as K9s (because K9 sounds like canine) are specially trained to work in law enforcement in a variety of capacities, as listed below.
Cadaver dogs – Dogs can be trained to detect the specific odor of a decomposing body, even if that body is underwater. This is often used when there is a hurricane, earthquake or other natural disaster where bodies may be trapped under debris caused by the storm.
Tracking dogs – These dogs are excellent for finding missing people or suspects and Bloodhounds are especially good at this because you can let them sniff an article of clothing of the missing person and they can track that specific scent. A dog’s sense of smell is nearly 50 times more powerful (and accurate) than is the human nose. Dogs can catch running suspects faster than can a human and because dogs have strong jaws, they can clamp down on the suspect and keep him there until their human police officer companions arrive to make the arrest.
Drug-sniffing dogs – Some dogs are used to sniff out special things such as drugs or explosives. The specialization is broken down even further as some dogs are marijuana sniffing dogs, some are cocaine sniffing dogs, and so forth. You’ll often see these dogs around the airport sniffing luggage or people. Police use beagles a lot in airports because the larger sniffing dogs, like German Shepherds, tend to scare people.
Public order enforcement dog – This is the dog you see in movies riding around with a police officer who uses him to chase bad guys and even hold them down. Police believe that dogs are a good deterrent against fleeing suspects because suspects won’t generally try to run away if they know a dog is going to be released after them. This is where you’ll see breeds like German Shepherds, Doberman Pinschers, and Boxers being used. Officers say that just having the police dog there prevents physical confrontations.
Police departments throughout the United States (and in other countries) use police dogs to track criminals, search buildings, and sniff out drugs or other illegal substances. On a daily basis, there are thousands of police dogs on duty to help police officers serve and protect their communities. Dogs in some jurisdictions wear bulletproof vests just like police officers because unfortunately they too are subject to the dangers of police work and many have been shot and killed in the line of duty. Killing a police dog is a felony in some states and some departments give a fallen K9 hero a full police funeral.
Not all dog breeds are meant to be police assistants, so the most common breeds used in police work are German Shepherds, Labrador Retrievers, and Beagles. Most police dogs are male. Many police departments get their dogs from people who donate them and then they are sent for a long training program to prepare them for the work they will be doing. Other police dogs are bred and trained in Europe and imported to the United States, but that cost is approximately $7,500 per dog, which is more than most police departments can afford.
Both the officers who will work with police dogs and the dogs themselves are carefully selected because they are expected to be the best of the best. K9 officers are paid more than non-K9 officers, but it’s because they work 60 hours per week instead of 40 because there’s ongoing training and care associated with the human/dog partnership. A police dog usually can work about 5 years before he is retired.
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Faith-A True Dog Hero
Faith: A True Dog Hero!
I received the following in an email. I'm not sure where it originally came from but I was so touched, I wanted all of my readers to read this story too of a true dog hero!
I met this dog in the airport on one of my trips back East.. They were on their way to Chicago for the Oprah show. He is very friendly and sweet, and draws huge crowds everywhere he goes. There was a huge crowd following him as he walked to the waiting area for the plane we were going to board, it got my attention because flashes were going off, I thought it must be a celebrity.
This is 'Faith'
This dog was born on Christmas Eve in the year 2002. He was born with 3 legs – 2 healthy hind legs and 1 abnormal front leg which need to be amputated. He of course could not walk when he was born. Even his mother did not want him.
His first owner also did not think that he can survive. Therefore, he was thinking of 'putting him to sleep'..
By this time, his present owner, Jude Stringfellow, met him and wanted to take care of him.
She is determined to teach and train this dog to walk by himself. Therefore she named him 'Faith'.
In the beginning, she put Faith on a surfing board to let him feel the movements. Later she used peanut butter on a spoon as a lure and reward for him to stand up and jump around. Even the other dog at home also helped to encourage him to walk. Amazingly, only after 6 months, like a miracle, Faith learned to balance on his 2 hind legs and jumped to move forward. After further training in the snow, he now can walk like a human being.
Faith loves to walk around now. No matter where he goes, he just attracts all the people around him.
He is now becoming famous on the international scene. He has appeared on various newspapers and TV shows.
There is even one book entitled 'With a little faith' being published about him. He was even considered to appear in one of Harry Potter movies.
His present owner Jude Stringfellew has given up her teaching post and plans to take him around the world to preach that even without a perfect body, one can have a perfect soul'.
In life there are always undesirable things. Perhaps one will feel better if one changes the point of view from another direction. I hope this message will bring fresh new ways of thinking to everyone and that everyone can appreciate and be thankful for each beautiful day that follows. Faith is the continual demonstration of the Strength of Life
A small request: All you are asked to do is keep this circulating.
When faced with a defining moment, you can either define the moment or the moment defines you!
Have a great day!!
