Hurricane Harvey

Dedicated to Aliesha Myers Medley founder of Houston Huts 4 Mutts

MEAN RAIN (August 29, 2017)

I’m so thankful to be warm once more

And to feel the sun on my face.

I don’t really know how I made it this far

But miracles are meant to chase.

It wasn’t the only time but it was the worst

That master had left me alone.

I could never understand why he wouldn’t let me in.

Why he yelled and cursed and moaned.

His anger was always so very quick

To hit me or grab me or kick.

I’m so tired of the fear and so tired of the pain.

And so tired of this constant rain.

The rain wouldn’t stop.

The food bowl floated away.

So I struggled to find a small space.

A little less wet and maybe some grass

In this god-awful, nasty place.

I wallowed around my bed, now a mud pit

Looking for somewhere to fit

But here I was waiting and wondering

Just how long I would have to sit.

I’M HERE, SOMEONE SAVE ME FROM THE END OF THE THIS CHAIN!

I’M HERE, SOMEONE TAKE ME FAR AWAY FROM THIS RAIN!

I trusted you man, and you left me to drown

Leaving me with no means of escape.

You placed me in chains, bound and locked ‘round my neck.

No high ground to crawl to, no soggy cardboard deck.

I was born to swim but found I could not.

I barked till my head went under.

I hoped you would come and care for me

But there was only lightning and thunder.

I couldn’t get away from the wet and the cold.

The rain kept on pounding my little dog soul.

The wind became stronger as my own strength gave out

And the night was pitch-black as the water sloshed about.

My chain kept on pulling as I surrendered to sleep

And my mind, it so gradually slipped into the deep.

For three years now I have survived by this tree

On a short heavy chain that’s too tight on me.

I live in a yard through the heat and the cold

And sleep on the ground where I dug out a hole.

The first year I dreamed

Surely Master would be kind

That he would come out and unchain me

And take me inside.

Where a big bowl of food

He’d give me to eat

And he’d pet me and cuddle me

And sing me to sleep.

But gladiators aren’t groomed to be treated right.

They’re meant to slay dragons in nightly dog fights.

For a while I believed this and did as obeyed

Until all of it ended when the glory went away.

So as the fear gripped hard and my breath was all gone

And the chain was chocking my neck.

I let go of any hopes to ever be happy

And I didn’t even look back.

The Father of all of us is the reason I’m here.

It’s my reward for the pain I’ve endured.

Some folks on earth don’t believe that it’s true

But for all life created He saves them all too.

Lightness lifted me to this lovely backyard.

I’m warm with a full belly too.

No food was before me but I no longer feel starved.

I’m comfy and clean and new.

There is meaning I hear through my new ears

As gentle white feathers brush away all my tears,

“Over there is your playground and behind you your past.

Your new Master is here and you are home at last”.

 

By Ellen Turner Johnston

DOG’S PRAYER

Guard me Father through this darkness.

Please watch me till the early dawn.

Bid the angels enter meekly.

Take my soul to Heaven yon……

Calm the storms and shield my forehead.

Protect me from the flood this night.

Hold me safe within your keeping.

Lift me Father to the light.

When my legs become too weary

Please hold me gently as your own

And through the rain help me to see things.

Please guide my footsteps to my home.

By Ellen Turner Johnston

In memory of all those animal casualties of Hurricane Harvey 

Pride of a Poor Village Dog

Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico
Help Tulum Dogs (FB)/www:lostdogfoundation.org

PRIDE OF A POOR VILLAGE DOG

My name is Benito and this is my home.

I have heard the tourists as they go by saying that I must be homeless.  I am no homeless street dog.

My home is here.  Four years I have lived, born back there under that shed.  These people that live here are my family and they do the best they can.

Most of us around here are tethered but I am not.  If I roam it is never far.  My job is to protect so that is what I do.

My water bowl is empty because I sometimes forget and kick it over in the night.  There is no other reason.  More water will come.  Just in time.

There is no food but I ate day before yesterday.  The boy will bring me food when it is time.  I have yet to starve or get too thirsty in my years of being on this earth and serving my family.

I am strong and healthy.  My people love me as best they can.  They allow me to stay here.  I know I am loved.

My name is Benito and this too is mine.  Not all of us have a name.
 

by Ellen Turner Johnston

August 19, 2016   

White Dog Sleeping

If only all animals had a soft warm bed I could finally rest knowing none would die in a shelter tonight.  -Terri Davis -

Master Bedroom by Andrew Wyeth















 

White Dog

First snow-I release her into it-
I know, released, she won't come back.
This is different from letting what,
already, we count as lost go. It is nothing
like that. Also, it is not like wanting to learn what
losing a thing we love feels like. Oh yes:
I love her.
Released, she seems for a moment as if
some part of me that, almost,
I wouldn't mind
understanding better, is that
not love? She seems a part of me,
and then she seems entirely like what she is:
a white dog,
less white suddenly, against the snow,
who won't come back. I know that; and, knowing it,
I release her. It's as if I release her
because I know.

Written by Carl Phillips

Briton Riviere, Sympathy

Briton Riviere, Sympathy. 1877. oil on canvas. Royal Holloway Collection.

Riviere’s Sympathy was among the most well-known animal portraits of the day, as discussed by the Royal Holloway Collection: The Spectator made an important point: Riviere was the natural successor to Landseer, who had died in 1873, and that he had even surpassed Landseer in his own way, ‘for he has given feeling to his animals, and yet kept them strictly within their own nature . . . Never attempting to render in his works human expression in a dog’s face, he has nevertheless mastered the points where canine and human nature touch, and painted them with an insight and comprehension with which no other artist of whom we know can at all compare’.

LissiS, Ghost Dog. 2008. published in Worth1000.com

The painting has had a resurgence since 2007 when an artist rendered the dog as a ghost.