edwinharrisworld.com Blog

May 19, 2013

Attack

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

DOGS

Who is the one, that always greets you,
Happy and friendly, in humans so few .

His anatomy differs, from humans for sure,
Yell and scream, he’ll come back for more.

Big or small, it matters not,
Panting its tongue, means he’s hot.

Tail wagging fiercely, true to his mood,
Loyal and trustworthy, and often times lewd.

He scratches and licks, whenever he please,
These may be signs, of infestation with fleas.

Have you guessed yet, of the species I speak?
A canine of coarse, some scary some meek!

A wolf its thought his ancestors be,
Domestic now, his spirit still free.

Just watch him run and tear out the door,
The outdoors ingrained, they always need more.

Time in the wild, to sniff and run free,
They know the location, of every tree.

Be smart or dumb, it matters not,
Unconditional loyalty is what you’ve got..

Rich or poor, your dog doesn’t care,
Short or tall or what you wear.

They give you love, asking little in return,
Just food and drink, you may treat them stern.

And still a dogs master, is forever his chum,
Even if the master, to his dog is a bum.

We humans with all are gadgets and IQ,
Can’t match the canine’s ability to be true.

Let’s take a lesson, from mans best friend,
Love and loyalty to others, is the message to send.

December 24, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

WHAT IS A PUPPY ?

A puppy is a fluffy bundle of joy
Who can turn any object into a toy
With four paws and a wagging tail
He will try and beat you to pick up the mail

He likes to chew on anything new
A ball, a bone or even a shoe
He loves to run and likes to be
Chasing the neighbours cat up a tree

A puppy is loveable and so cute
Even when he ruins your favourite boot
His adoring look will melt your heart
And you know from him you won’t want to part

A puppies love just grows and grows
Through all of the little highs and lows
He truly will be your best friend
A great companion to the end.

Copyright ©2007 Stella Mortazavi

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

A PUPPY’S PRAYER

Now I lay me down to sleep,
The king-size bed is soft and deep..
I sleep right in the center groove
My human being can hardly move!

I’ve trapped her legs, she’s tucked in tight
And here is where I pass the night
No one disturbs me or dares intrude
Till morning comes and “I want food!”

I sneak up slowly to begin
my nibbles on my human’s chin.
She wakes up quickly,
I have sharp teeth-

I’m a puppy, don’t you see?
For the morning’s here
and it’s time to play
I always seem to get my way.

So thank you Lord for giving me
This human person that I see.
The one who hugs and holds me tight
And shares her bed with me at night!

Sammy

September 22, 2012

“How could you?”

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02


When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask “How could you?” – but then you’d relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because “ice cream is bad for dogs,” you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a “dog person” – still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a “prisoner of love.

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch- because your touch was now so infrequent – and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered “yes” and changed the subject. I had gone from being “your dog” to “just a dog” and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your “family,” but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said “I know you will find a good home for her.” They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with “papers.” You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar as he screamed “No, Daddy! Please don’t let them take my dog!” And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home.
They shook their heads and asked “How could you?”

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you – that you had changed your mind – that this was all a bad dream…or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein.
As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured “How could you?”

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said “I’m so sorry.” She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself – a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

Alone Again

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02


I wish someone would tell me
what it is that I’ve done wrong.
Why I have to stay chained up
and left alone so long.
They seemed so glad to have one
when I came here as a pup.
There were so many things we’d do
while I was growing up.
They couldn’t wait to train me
as a companion and a friend.
And told me how they’d never fear
being left alone again.
The children said they’d feed me
and brush me everyday.
They’d play with me and walk me,
if only I could stay.
But now the Family “Hasn’t Time”;
they say I often shed.
They do not want me in the house
not even to be fed.
The children never walk me,
they always say “Not Now!”
I wish that I could please them;
won’t someone tell me how?
All I had, you see, was love;
I wish they would explain.
Why they said they wanted me,
then left me on a chain!!!

DO I GO HOME TODAY?

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

DO I GO HOME TODAY?

My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats.
They even let me sleep with them – all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I’m very proud to say.
These are the things I’ll not forget – cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter – without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn’t know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn’t time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
I barked and barked, all day long, just to keep from going insane.
So they brought me to the shelter, but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I’d only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would have been a better dog when I was all grown up.
“You only have one day left.” I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance?
DO I GO HOME TODAY?

July 18, 2011

The Rescuer

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

Unlike most days at Rainbow Bridge, this day dawned cold and gray, damp as a swamp and as dismal as could be imagined. All of the recent arrivals had no idea what to think, as they had never experienced a day like this before. But the animals who had been waiting for their beloved people knew exactly what was going on and started to gather at the pathway leading to The Bridge to watch

It wasn’t long before an elderly animal came into view, head hung low and tail dragging. The other animals, the ones who had been there for a while, knew what his story was right away, for they had seen this happen far too often.

He approached slowly, obviously in great emotional pain, but with no sign of injury or illness. Unlike all of the other animals waiting at The Bridge, this animal had not been restored to youth and made healthy and vigorous again. As he walked toward The Bridge, he watched all of the other animals watching him. He knew he was out of place here and the sooner he could cross over, the happier he would be. But, alas, as he approached The Bridge, his way was barred by the appearance of an Angel who apologized, but told him that he would not be able to pass. Only those animals who were with their people could pass over Rainbow Bridge.

With no place else to turn to, the elderly animal turned towards the fields before The Bridge and saw a group of other animals like himself, also elderly and infirm. They weren’t playing, but rather simply lying on the green grass, forlornly staring out at the pathway leading to The Bridge. And so, he took his place among them, watching the pathway and waiting.

One of the newest arrivals at The Bridge didn’t understand what he had just witnessed and asked one of the animals that had been there for awhile to explain it to him.

“You see, that poor animal was a rescue. He was turned in to rescue just as you see him now, an older animal with his fur graying and his eyes clouding. He never made it out of rescue and passed on with only the love of his rescuer to comfort him as he left his earthly existence. Because he had no family to give his love to, he has no one to escort him across The Bridge.”

The first animal thought about this for a minute and then asked, “So what will happen now?” As he was about to receive his answer, the clouds suddenly parted and the gloom lifted. Approaching The Bridge could be seen a single person and among the older animals, a whole group was suddenly bathed in a golden light and they were all young and healthy again, just as they were in the prime of life.

“Watch, and see.”, said the second animal. A second group of animals from those waiting came to the pathway and bowed low as the person neared. At each bowed head, the person offered a pat on the head or a scratch behind the ears. The newly restored animals fell into line and followed him towards The Bridge. They all crossed The Bridge together.

“What happened?”

“That was a rescuer. The animals you saw bowing in respect were those who found new homes because of her work. They will cross when their new families arrive. Those you saw restored were those who never found homes. When a rescuer arrives, they are allowed to perform one, final act of rescue. They are allowed to escort those poor animals that they couldn’t place on earth across The Rainbow Bridge.”

“I think I like rescuers”, said the first animal.

“So does GOD”, was the reply.

June 15, 2011

Llittle Lost Dog

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

He was lost!-not a shade of doubt of that;
For he never barked at a slinking cat,
But stood in the square where the wind blew raw
With a drooping ear and a trembling paw
And a mournful look in his pleading eye
And a plaintive sniff at the passer-by
That begged as plain as a tongue could sue,
“O Mister! please may I follow you?”

A lorn wee waif of a tawny brown
Adrift in the roar of a heedless town.
Oh, the saddest of sights in a world of sin
Is a little lost pup with his tail tucked in!
He won my heart, for I set great store,
on my own Red Beaut, who is here no more.
So I whistled clear, and he trotted up,
and who so glad, as that small lost pup.

Now he shares my board and he owns my bed,
And he fairly shouts when he hears my tread;
Then, if things go wrong, as they sometimes do,
and the world is cold, and I’m feeling blue
He asserts his right to assuage my woes
With a warm, red tongue and a nice, cold nose
And a silky head on my arm or knee
And a paw as soft as a paw can be.

When we rove the woods for a league about
He’s as full of pranks as a school let out;
For he romps and frisks like a three months’ colt,
And he runs me down like a thunderbolt.
Oh, the blithest of sights in the world so fair
Is a gay little pup with his tail in the air!

Arthur Guiterman, Little Lost Pup

——————————————————————————–

June 13, 2011

Tank

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

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, 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.

For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls — he wouldn’t go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes.
I guess I didn’t really think he’d need all his old stuff, that I’d get him new things once he
Settled in. But it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn’t going to.

I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like “sit” and “stay” and
“come” and “heel,” and he’d follow them – when he felt like it.
He never really seemed to listen when I called his name — sure, he’d look in my
Direction after the fourth or fifth time I said it, but then he’d just go back to doing whatever.
When I’d ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn’t going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes.
I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell.
The friction got so bad that I couldn’t wait for the two
Weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search
Mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I
Remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest
Room, but I also mumbled, Rather cynically, that the
“damn dog probably hid it on me.”

Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the
Shelter’s’ number, I also found his pad and other toys
From the shelter…I tossed the pad in Reggie’s
Direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most
Enthusiasm I’d seen since bringing him home. But
Then I called, “Hey Reggie, you like that? Come
Here and I’ll give you a treat.” Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction — maybe “glared”
Is more accurate — and then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down … With his back to me.

Well, that’s not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number.

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

____________ _________ _________ _________

To
Whoever 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. If you’re reading this,
It means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab
After dropping him off at the shelter.
He knew something was different.
I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back door before a trip,
But this time… it’s like he knew something was wrong.
And something is wrong…which is why I have
To go to try to make it right.

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 hordes the m. 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 the m, he’ll bound after it, so be
careful – really don’t do it by any roads. I made
that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly.

Next, commands. Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I’ll go over them
again: Reggie knows the obvious ones —
“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”
He knows hand signals:
“back” to turn around and go back when you put
your hand straight up; and “over” if you put your
hand out right or left. “Shake” for shaking
water off, and “paw” for a high-five. He
does “down” when he feels like lying down — I bet
you could work on that with him some more. He knows
“ball” and “food” and “bone”
and “treat” like nobody’s business.

I trained Reggie with small food treats.
Nothing opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in
the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots.
Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with
yours; the y’ll make sure to send you reminders for when
he’s due. 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.
I’ve never been married, so 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.

Which means that this transition is
going to be hard, with him going to live with someone new.

And that’s why I need to share
one more bit of info with you….

His name’s not Reggie.

I don’t know what made me do it, but
when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told the m
his name was 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. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that
handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting
that I’d never see him again. And if I end up
coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it
means everything’s fine. But if someone else is
reading it, well … well it means that his new owner should
know his real name. It’ll help you bond with
him. Who knows, maybe you’ll even notice a change
in his demeanor if he’s been giving you problems.

His real name is “Tank”.

Because that is what I drive.

Again, if you’re reading this
and you’re from the area, maybe my name has been on the
news. I told the shelter that they couldn’t make
“Reggie” available for adoption until they
received word from my company commander. 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 the y make one phone..
call the shelter … in the “event” … to tell
Them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily,
my colonel 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.

Well, this letter is getting downright depressing,
even though, frankly, I’m just
writing it for my dog. I couldn’t imagine if I was
writing it for a wife and kids and family … but still,
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 and that he will adjust and
come to love you the same way he loved me.

That unconditional love from a dog
is what I take with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do
something selfless, to protect innocent people from those
who would do terrible things … and to keep those terrible
people from coming over here. If I have to give up Tank
in order to do it, 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. I don’t think I’ll say anothe r
good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first
time. 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.

“C’mere boy.”

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 in the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

June 5, 2011

A Dog’s Prayer

Filed under: Uncategorized — Administrator @ 11:02

Dear God: Is it on purpose that our names are
spelled the same, only in reverse?

Dear God: Why do humans smell the flowers,
but seldom, if ever, smell one another?

Dear God: When we get to Heaven, can we sit
on your couch? Or will it be the same old story?

Dear God: Why are there cars named after
the jaguar, the cougar, the mustang,
the colt, the stingray, and the rabbit, but not ONE
named after a Dog? How often do you
see a cougar riding around? We dogs love a nice car
ride! Would it be so hard to rename the ‘Chrysler
Eagle’ to maybe the ‘Chrysler Beagle’?

Dear God: If a Dog barks his head off
in the forest and no human hears him,
is he still a bad Dog?

Dear God: We Dogs can understand human
verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles,
horns, clickers, beepers, scent IDs,
electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee
flight paths. What do humans understand?

Dear God: More meatballs,
less spaghetti, please.

Dear God: Are there mailmen in Heaven?
If there are, will I have to apologize?

Dear God: Here is a list of just some of the things
I must remember to be a good Dog:

1. I will not eat the cat’s food before he eats
it or after he throws it up.
2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish,
crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.
3. The Litter Box is not a cookie jar.
4. The sofa is not a ‘face towel’.
5. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.
6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad’s
underwear when he’s on the toilet.
7. Sticking my nose into someone’s
crotch is an unacceptable way of saying ‘hello’.
8. I don’t need to suddenly stand
straight up when I’m under the coffee table.
9. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before
entering the house.
10. I will not drag my butt across the carpet.
11. I will not lick my crotch in the middle of the
living room.
12. The cat is not my ‘squeaky toy’, because when
I play with him and he makes that noise,
there is suddently a loud unpleasant human noise.

P.S. Dear God: When I get to Heaven,
will I have my testicles back?

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