Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world's sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshiper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And beloved master, should the Great Master see
fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you.
Rather hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful
boon of eternal rest....and I will leave you knowing with the last breath
I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
My shadow is ever with me
It follows me each day;
I never have to worry,
It never strays away
It's there in stormy weather,
It's there in blackest night,
When things are bright and cheery
I am never out of sight.
It takes the greatest interest
In me the whole day thru,
In work or play or sorrow,
As Shepherds always do.
And if my step it falters,
She will always understand,
And come to my assistance
With her cold nose in my hand.
Is there anything more assuring
Than this loyalty and love?
We'll find it not of this world
Nor the one far up above.
As I see the look of worship
In those eyes so true and brown,
I am all the better for it,
For they have never let me down.
I still work and strive each day
To be a better man,
And try to be just half the god
My Shepherd thinks I am.
----Anonymous
A Breeder (with a capital B) is one who thirsts for knowledge and never really knows it all, one who wrestles with decisions of conscience, convenience, and commitment.
A Breeder is one who sacrifices personal interests, finances, time, friendships, fancy furniture, and deep pile carpeting! She gives up the dreams of a long, luxurious cruise in favour of turning that all important Show into this years "vacation". The Breeder goes without sleep (but never without coffee!) in hours spent planning a breeding or watching anxiously over the birth process, and afterwards, over every little sneeze, wiggle or cry. The Breeder skips dinner parties because that litter is due or the babies have to be fed at eight. She disregards birth fluids and puts mouth to mouth to save a gasping newborn, literally blowing life into a tiny, helpless creature that may be the culmination of a lifetime of dreams.
A Breeders lap is a marvelous place where generations of proud and noble champions once snoozed. A Breeders hands are strong and firm and often soiled, but ever so gentle and sensitive to the thrusts of a puppy's wet nose. A Breeders back and knees are usually arthritic from stooping, bending, and sitting in the birthing box, but are strong enough to enable the breeder to show the next choice pup to a Championship. A Breeders shoulders are stooped and often heaped with abuse from competitors, but they're wide enough to support the weight of a thousand defeats and frustrations. A Breeders arms are always able to wield a mop, support an armful of puppies, or lend a helping hand to a newcomer. A Breeders ears are wondrous things, sometimes red (from being talked about) or strangely shaped (from being pressed against a phone receiver), often deaf to criticism, yet always fine-tuned to the whimper of a sick puppy. A Breeders eyes are blurred from pedigree research and sometimes blind to her own dog's faults, but they are ever so keen to the competitions faults and are always searching for the perfect specimen.
A Breeders brain is foggy on faces, but it can
recall pedigrees faster than an IBM computer. It's so full of knowledge
that sometimes it blows a fuse: it catalogues thousands of good bonings,
fine ears, and perfect heads... and buries in the soul the failures and
the ones that didn't turn out. The Breeders heart is often broken, but
it beats strongly with hope everlasting... and it's always in the right
place! Oh, yes, there are breeders, and then, there are BREEDERS!!
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---Author Unknown