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    High up in the courts of heaven today
    a little dog angel waits;
    with the other angels he will not play,
    but he sits alone at the gates.
    "For I know my master will come" says he,
    "and when he comes he will call for me."

    The other angels pass him by
    As they hurry toward the throne,
    And he watches them with a wistful eye
    as he sits at the gates alone.
    "But I know if I just wait patiently
    that someday my master will call for me."

    And his master, down on earth below,
    as he sits in his easy chair,
    forgets sometimes, and whispers low
    to the dog who is not there.
    And the little dog angel cocks his ears
    and dreams that his master's voice he hears.

    And when at last his master waits
    outside in the dark and cold,
    for the hand of death to open the door,
    that leads to those courts of gold,
    he will hear a sound through the gathering dark,
    a little dog angel's bark.

  • #2
    Dogs don't have souls so they don't go to heaven.

    It's a pretty crap place, or so i've heard... no pets :|











    edit:
    not religious. the above is one of the many reasons why....
    “Crashing is shit for you, shit for the bike, shit for the mechanics and shit for the set-up,” Checa told me a while back. “It’s a signal that you are heading in the wrong direction. You want to win but crashing is the opposite. It’s like being in France when you want to go to England and when you crash you go to Spain. That way you’ll never get to England!” -- Carlos Checa

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    • #3
      The Below Poem was passed onto me by my vet after I had laid to rest my 18Y/O Kelpie cross. I thought I would share for those that are interested...

      Dog's-Prayer

      Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, 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 blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me learn,

      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 footsteps fall upon my waiting ear.

      Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside hearth. Keep my pan filled with water, for 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 my friend, when I am very old, and no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I shall leave this earth knowing with the last breath that I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands, ...

      I will always be your best friend,


      Unknown Author 1982

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      • #4
        Two very good poems showing great love of dogs.... Here is one that means a lot to me being a Dog Handler in Defence.


        I Wait By The Gate...

        In a strange land I was sent, not knowing my fate,
        In a pen I was put and I sat by the gate.
        I watched and I wondered what do I do now?
        Then I looked up and saw you as you walked up and smiled.
        We trained and we worked and I showed you my best,
        You rewarded me and patted me and I did the rest.
        Through trails and paths and roads we did go,
        And I was to smell, for traps that would blow.
        Many times I stopped you from ending your life,
        From enemy trip wire, that was set to end life,
        Never had I thought that we would ever part,
        Because of the love, that we had in our hearts.
        Oh I was proud to walk by your side,
        With all of your friends and being your guide.
        Then one day you put me back in my pen.
        You smiled, you patted me and said "Goodbye my friend."
        You looked back one more time,
        And I saw the tears in your eye,
        And I knew it was the last, Your way of saying goodbye.
        My life, it so changed when you went back home,
        And I stayed behind to a fate still unknown.
        Its been over 30 years since Ive seen your face,
        But I never forgot you, my friend and my mate.
        So please dont worry, Im waiting by heavens gate,
        For my best friend, my brother, but mainly my mate.


        This poem was written for all the dogs that were used during Vietnam war that had to be left in country due to quarantine issues.... The dedication and the unwavering love a dog has towards his handler is limitless... To all those dogs who served our country and were abandoned in a foreign land.. I salute you...


        Jarrod
        Handled by one.... Feared by all

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        • #5
          I must stop reading in this thread. Its heartbreaking.

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          • #6
            ^^^WSS im off to go hug my dogs ( sniff sob sniff )
            In The PSB Garage http://www.perthstreetbikes.com/foru...vehicle&id=114
            The build/tidy thread http://www.perthstreetbikes.com/foru...how-tos-56314/

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            • #7
              i too love my dog to bitzes (11mth old boxer white) aww wis i was home with her now thanks guys
              TIP: if you get pulled over by a young copper let him play with your bike, its amazing what you can get away with

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              • #8
                The best friend a man has in this world may turn against him and become his enemy.
                His son and daughter that he has reared with loving care may become ungrateful.
                Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their faith.
                The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him when he may need it most.
                Man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action.
                The people who are prone to fall on their knees and do us honour when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles it's cloud upon our heads.
                The absolutely unselfish friend a man may have in this selfish worls, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.
                A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in health and in sickness.
                He will sleep on the cold ground when the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only to be by his masters side.
                He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer, he will lick the wounds and sores that come encounter with the roughness of the world.
                He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince.
                When all other freinds desert, he remains.
                When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in it's journey through the heavens.
                If fortune drives the master fourth an outcast in this world, friendness and homeless, the faihtfill dog asks no higher priviledge than that of accompanying him, to guard against danger, to fight his enemies, and when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other freinds pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws and his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even to death.

                The late senator George G. Vest of Missouri
                in a court action to recover damages for the
                wanton killing of a neighbour's dog, made this
                speech to the jury. The suit was for $200 damages, but
                following this appeal, the jury, after two minutes of
                deliberation found for the plaintiff and assessed
                the damages at $500.


                If there's no dogs in heaven, I'm not going...

                Comment


                • #9
                  Originally posted by jakam04 View Post
                  Two very good poems showing great love of dogs.... Here is one that means a lot to me being a Dog Handler in Defence.


                  I Wait By The Gate...

                  In a strange land I was sent, not knowing my fate,
                  In a pen I was put and I sat by the gate.
                  I watched and I wondered what do I do now?



                  This poem was written for all the dogs that were used during Vietnam war that had to be left in country due to quarantine issues.... The dedication and the unwavering love a dog has towards his handler is limitless... To all those dogs who served our country and were abandoned in a foreign land.. I salute you...


                  Jarrod

                  thats would suck - fucken should have done better than that - bloody customs

                  bit like the anzacs in eygpt at the end of ww1 putting a bullet into their horses rather than leaving them for the towel heads

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Heres another for you jakam04

                    Why? (Why I became a Police Dog Handler)


                    A torch & a radio hang off my belt
                    In winter I freeze, in summer I melt.
                    I’m awake all night, I’m asleep all day,
                    Will I patrol my life away?

                    Ours is to see, and not to be seen,
                    That black & tan shepherd with the handler in green.
                    If you don’t see us, the man or the dog
                    Rest assured we’re doing our job.

                    Those long conversations where nothing is said,
                    Where he lifts his paw & I pat his head.
                    He gets all the attention, and deservedly so,
                    He’s the most courageous creature I know.

                    He’ll sit, down or stay, or rip off your legs,
                    One word from his handler, and he’ll tear you to shreds.
                    When he brings down a man, his tail will be wagging,
                    Though seldom in anger, more likely just bragging.

                    My big furry playmate, so fearsome & tough,
                    And I’ll never tell you how much is bluff.
                    All that excitement by the light of the moon,
                    We’ve waited for months, it’s all over too soon.

                    This same old patrol is becoming a habit,
                    The only excitement, a cat or a rabbit.
                    From sunburn to frostbite, from mozzies to flies,
                    To the wind in your face and the sun in your eyes.

                    We’ve braved all the elements to make piles of money,
                    The piles I’ve got, and the pay just ain’t funny.
                    So why you may ask do I favour this life,
                    Where I talk more to ‘him’ than I do to the wife.

                    If it isn’t the pay, the perks or conditions,
                    Then what is the reason for this silly rendition?
                    The reason I stay here, and the reason I slog,
                    Is not for the money, but for the love of a dog.

                    So why, you may ask when you quiz,
                    Is the friendship between us so fine,
                    Because the life he lays down will be his,
                    And the life that he saves will be mine.

                    ************

                    Grant Teeboon
                    Feed 'em to the pigs, Errol....

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Originally posted by corks67 View Post
                      thats would suck - fucken should have done better than that - bloody customs
                      Nothing to do with Customs or AQIS, but rather a decision by the Military that it was too expensive and unproductive to have an animal out of training/work for such a lengthy period of time on return to Australia, was cheaper and 'easier' to reteam the handler with a 'new' dog once they had returned to Oz.

                      I know coz i left PD824 SPARTAN in Malaysia in 1986.
                      Feed 'em to the pigs, Errol....

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