Maybe some of you saw my sad poem about my working dog. Well I've come across an old pic of him and I. A transparency and I don't have a transparency scanner so I copied it with my digital camera.
Michael
NZ

Looks to be a good pair, Ciderman. Two working boys.

He looks a real character Michael

What a great old boy!

He sure does look a character, love the way he is leaning on you!!

A very lovable dog!

The poem that goes with him I posted on IDF. Very sad!
Michael
NZ

Idon't really go there Ciderman - put it on here too, some of us aren't members there.

The Dog

You may not see me often as I ride around my sheep
The hills are hard and savage and the bloody things are steep.
I find a seep, a boggy patch and tell my horse to go
But he says “To hell with you, you bastard I say No!”
We struggle some, then I get off and lead him to the place
One step and I am knee deep , then flat upon my face.

I look up to his patient face as he stands up and dry,
While I gaze wet and miserable into a leaden sky.
Back aboard my saddle I let him show me where
The best place to approach and then to get us there.
My silent heading Dog looks up as if to ask the Lord
Where did he get this useless boss who cannot find a ford.

We reach the ridge and Dog has seen a ewe that’s having trouble
He looks at me and sighs and rounds her up quick double,
He eyes her still and I’m supposed to creep up to her with skill,
Assist the lamb to join the world and help him get his fill.
The Dog is thirteen years of age, I lack his expertise
To do the job as well as he, as I fumble on my knees.

For three years Dog encouraged me, and tried to help me learn
But he was aging fast, you see and I had years to burn.
At last his sight was giving in, but agile still and keen
He’d run into a tree or fence his dim eyes hadn’t seen.
I couldn’t leave him left behind when other dogs I ran
He loved the run, the company, the knowledge that he can.

I shot that Dog one evening. Under the kanuka tree
Gave him fillet steak , his favourite , set his spirit free.
I stroked his old grey head before he died under my hand,
Owed him that, I did , a friend , fellow worker on the land.
The tears rolled down my cheeks as I sighted between his eyes
The shot thundered, he twitched a bit, became silent bye and bye

I buried him with care and thought, beneath that tree so old
Wrapped in a blanket bright to keep him from the cold.
A marker showed his place of rest
He was one of nature’s best.
I sat for hours beside his grave , that starry moonlit night
And watched a meteor flash past and thought, “an omen!” right


Michael, all sad.
NZ

Yes, I am reading it again, after first seeing it there, Michael. The words that leap out to me through the sadness, are 'set his spirit free'. A beautiful poem, tender with emotional sadness, yet you know his spirit thanks you.

I'm all sad too now Michael

and so am I GULP GULP GULP. Lovely poem
Cant see the ruddy keyboard for tears.

It must have been one of the hardest things that you ever had to do Michael.

Why dont you put the poem and some photos on the Celebrating pets site.
It would be a lovely memorial to him.
http://www.celebratingpets.thefourcorners.co.uk/

I can't say anything, it's too sad!

That was incredibly moving Michael. How courageous it was of you to be able to set his spirit free.