Archives at Zinester: Dec 31, 2005 - Storytime Tapestry Animal Awareness Issue. Storytime

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Tink and Poo here. We was thinking it is about time for us to write all you good people about our thoughts on this here thing you call Christmas. We notice some people are sour on about every thing up till about this time of year. Then they change and start acting more friendly toward one another.

So we got to doing some more reading. We read about every thing we could find in the books on the human habits. Nothing seemed to give us a answer.

Poo said you know I wonder could it be in that big black leather covered book. So we got into that thing. Now we have done a lot of heavy reading for the last few weeks, But we sure learned a lot in that book.

We figured it was about some people that God called his chosen people. Now these people had some good times, also some rough times. Seem like they turned their backs on God's plain more then once. Every time they did so things after a bit, they were in deep [as Dollie says Doo Doo]trouble.

These ups and downs goes on all the ways in this book. They wanted a king, so they got a king. Now at first they had a good one, then after a while they started getting a rotten apple for a king. Then maybe a good one for a few years. Every time they had a good king things seemed to be better. Then a rotten apple king. Things hit rock bottom.

Then we read that they were over ran by this tribe of people at some parts in this book. Well this happened many a time. They once again were crying that they needed a king to lead them out of these dark days. A war type of king. A man with a big sword.

Funny how people are always asking for things, Most of them never get what they ask for, but in looking back they got what they needed.

Any ways we got to the part that said end. But there is more. This more says "New" Well we get in the new, thinking maybe this was the last few years

We read about this older man and his new young bride. Well she wasn't just yet new bride. Guess they were in the planing stage. You know he may have placed the big rock on her finger, but the knot wasn't tight yet. She must have been about 21, maybe 18, we don't know. But she was of noble birth, guess he was too. The book says they were from the line of King David. Now both were poor as Job's turkey. Both were as pure as the driven snow. Anyways she was with child. A not married girl, and with child. This is a thing that he could have walked away from, wasn't his child. But God sent a angel to tell him to marry the girl. This is a special event. A once in a forever event. Her name was Mary, what a beautiful name. His name was Joseph.

Well people the child came into this world we are told in a very humble place. The child grew up. The book don't tell us a whole lot. We guess it tells us what we need to know, and no more.

We read that this man went forth and talked, preached, and did a lot of healing of the sick, lame, and restoring eye sight to some.

We also know he had large groups of people to hear him. The leaders of these people grew frighten of what he was doing. They was still looking for the King with the sword. All this man was doing was talking about the Kingdom of Heaven. Something about he was the light, the way and so on to the Kingdom of Heaven. Nuts they wanted a sword man. This man talked peace, good will toward others, nothing about a sword.

Well when this man became too big a thorn in these so called preachers side. They could no longer stand it. They got the Roman flunkie to hold a trial of this man. In the end he was hung on a cross to die. Well we read all this.

We also read that he rose from the dead. And we also read he is alive and is today the center of a religion called Christian. All that believe on him will never die. Guess they die a earth death, but the soul goes to heaven to be with him.

Now we started to write about this time of year. Christmas time. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Christmas was all year long. People would do unto others like they would like to be done unto?

Merry Christmas one and all from Tink and Poo.

BARK BARK

"Poo. pass me that chunk of turkey if your not going to eat it."

"Go jump in the river Tink this is mine.. GRRRR"

Just kidding folks. We share with one another. Maybe we got more of this thing called brother love.

Tink & Poo

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I thought maybe? should send Tink and Poo Christmas story out that is in their little book.? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

It was a frigid Christmas Eve afternoon, 1959, and I was 10 years old. The snow had begun falling in earnest--a flurry of big white fluffy flakes covering the landscape in a beautiful silken scarf.? We were at our cabin in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York.? Bitter
cold had settled on the countryside, crisping up the dead cornstalks with a hard freeze.
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My father was standing at the window looking out toward the thick woods that bordered our property.? His aging eyes--my father was 50 when I was born--scanned the acres of pastureland looking for my return.
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I had gone to the woods--alone--carrying a small axe to cut down our annual Christmas tree.? The frost on the window panes began to obscure the view like little paw prints overlapping each other on the glass.? The leaden sky began to darken with the heavy curtain of snow. Butchy, my first dog and my first best friend, paced anxiously around my father's feet instinctively fearing the worsening weather conditions. The 35-pound black and tan terrier-mix--now 10 years old--was an avid hunter.? She had been raised from a puppy with me as a baby??”oftentimes sharing my cradle.
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My father had taught me that there is a little bit of Heaven born in each and every dog.? It is this "bit" that gives every dog his or her unconditional love--that special love that is shared with each special owner.? Unconditional love--is something of which no human being is capable.? People always have strings attached.? Always.? But from a dog unconditional love is a fact of life--pure and simple.
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My father was becoming worried.? He realized that because of the heavy snowfall and imminent darkness, visibility would soon be gone. Butchy then began to howl.
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My trek to the woods had been long and arduous.? My boots sank six inches into the crusted snow with every step, tiring my legs and slowing my progress to the center of the clearing.? But as I walked I thought to myself-- as least I will have an easy path to follow back to the cabin.? Unknown to me--the heavy falling snow drifting in the wintry wind--was obliterating my tracks.
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The tall dark green pines densely laden with snow on their boughs began to surround me shutting off much of the light reflecting from the cornfield.
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After scoping out the perfect tree because only "perfect" would do for Christmas, I set my axe in motion.? Although I was young, I had very strong arms and my father kept a well-honed axe.? In two shakes I had our Christmas tree felled.? I bundled it with the rope I had brought and
secured all of my knots so that it could be easily dragged from the woods.
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I got up from my crouched position and looked around.? Now that it was darker, considerably darker, my pathway was gone.? Branches??”so caked with snow--were now touching the ground--obscuring the pasture-- and confining me within the clearing.? I also realized as my teeth began to
chatter that the cold was becoming more intense.
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With Butchy's second howl, my father grabbed his coat and scarf off the coat hooks on the entryway wall and pulled on his snow boots.

My father liked calling me James--it was his name too.? I was his only child. Butchy was my only dog.? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ?

My father's neck was wrapped warmly in the hand-knitted scarf made for him by my mother.? The fringed ends blew over his shoulders in the swirling snowy wind.? His brown corduroy jacket--the color of? the cornstalks--was buttoned snugly down the front and he wore thick woolen
socks inside his boots to protect his feet.
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Butchy loved the winter.? Her thick coat kept her warm and agile and she loved running in the snow.
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I realized my father knew where I was and as he had always told me,

"Stay in one place; do not wander.? The more you wander, the more lost you become!"? I also knew I should not be afraid.
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Sitting on the big tree stump near the center of the clearing and waiting, I said to myself, "Patience."? I knew my father was probably on his way, and I had no idea which way was out.
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As he was walking into the woods my father came to an abrupt halt. His gold-rimmed Ben Franklin-like glasses had become so fogged with his breath that he could not see.? Butchy sensing my father--also stopped and turned to look at him.
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Knowing how anxious she was, my father yelled to her, "Go on girl, go find James, and wait for me there."? Immediately her back legs kicked up the snow and she raced between some downed branches and then into the woods heading for the clearing.
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The cold began eating through my gloves and unlike my father's,? my thick white cotton socks offered no protection.? I looked up at the darkening ceiling above me.? Flakes of snow--adhering first to my eyelashes and then melting--stung my eyes with their cold sensations.? Blue
shadows began to dance and flitter all around me.? But still I waited.
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Looking over my left shoulder I spied a big black dot pushing up the snow and coming toward me.? Butchy was pedaling through the snow as fast as she could go.? When she reached the stump she made one big leap onto my lap and started warming my face with her hot dog tongue.
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My father, arriving a few minutes later, and not being the type of person to make a bad situation worse simply asked, "Have you got the tree?"
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I pointed to the neatly balled and bundled fir tree by my side and said, "What took you so long?? I've just been sitting here waiting for you both."

I let my father drag the tree from the woods that night and I? carried Butchy in my arms.
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Over the years that warm, raspy tongue would be a source of inspiration, courage, and just plain friendship.? We had grown up together----we had taught each other to walk or rather she had held
me up while I was learning.? She was there beside me when I soloed on my first two-wheeler.? She lived to be at my side.
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Six years later on a cold, bleak rainy morning my best friend, my companion Butchy would teach me the hardest thing about love-- that it sometimes means saying "goodbye."
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I arose early on that fateful morning and sauntered down to the kitchen.? My father, who always arose much earlier to feed the animals, was looking out the window as he drank his third cup of
coffee.? Butchy's food dish--which was still full--sat on the counter.
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My mother entered the kitchen unable to hide the tears that leaked from beneath the hankie she held to her face.? I knew something was terribly wrong without anyone speaking a word.
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My father said to me, "If you want--go out and say goodbye to Butchy before I bury her in the garden.? She's in her dog house."
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Butchy, my faithful friend for sixteen years had died during the night. The tears plummeted down my face, tearing small bits from my heart as they fell into my coffee cup. But I could not go.? I had to say goodbye but in my own special way.? I could not go out and look at her lifeless shell that had
licked me and comforted me so many times throughout the years.

I stared out the fog covered window----and looking toward Heaven I whispered to my best friend-----, "Goodbye Butchy."
? ? ? ? ? ?

James is a lead clerk for Barnes & Noble Booksellers.? He shares his home with his housemate; 21 dogs; and a cat named Pumpkin.? He is working on his memoir ONE GOOD DOG

DESERVES ANOTHER--sharing his life with 36 dogs.? His stories have appeared in Dog & Kennel Magazine; Pasta Magazine; Best Friends Magazine; Greensboro News/Record; and also in the archives at Petwarmers.com.? He can be reached at:? onegooddog1@bellsouth.net

Grandpa's Dogs.
by Clara Wersterfer
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My Aunt June recently told me this story. It happened about 1920. My grandpa loved hunting, his dogs and fishing in that order. He trained his dogs well and swore by them. If he
left one to guard a rabbit or other game he shot, it would be there twohours later. When he
told them to stay, they would not move. Grandpa took excellent care of his "boys" as he called them, but some were female. He took them out hunting on a regular basis. When Grandpa
wanted to hunt, his excuse was that the "boys" needed a good run.

Claude, a neighbor wanted to buy a couple of Grandpa's dogs, and was given an emphatic "NO" by Grandpa. He was told repeatedly that the "boys" were not for sale. Finally one day, Claude was nagging Grandpa again about the dogs. Grandpa said "Claude, I am tired of telling you that these dogs are dear to me. I intend to keep them all until they pass away. If I wanted to
sell one, I would not sell to you. I have seen the way you abuse your animals and don't
give them the care they should have. I've seen your horses with out water on a hot day more than once. I've even stopped and watered them and told you about it. Now you? get off my land, and don't ever come back asking about my dogs."

This angered Claude, who left in a huff. A few days later, Grandpa came home to find one of his dogs dead and three more stretched out on the ground dying. Despite the best efforts of the
vet and Grandpa, the other three died. The vet said they were fed poisoned meat. Grandpa buried his boys with many tears at the senseless killing of his dogs. Grandpa could barely speak for several days, so deep was his grief.

After a week or so, a man called the sheriff to report to him someone was hanging? in a tree near his house. He was tied by the feet and too high up for him to reach. The sheriff came with some men and ladders and cut the man down.

It was Claude, wearing only his underwear. He was alright, and told the sheriff he had been hanging in the tree about an hour. He had been beaten with switches (tree limbs) until he was
bleeding from many places. Claude told the sheriff it was Grandpa who took him from his bed and dragged him outside and beat him with the switch. The sheriff, who knew about the dogs
being killed, asked Claude if he saw the person's face.

"No, he was wearing a bandanna over his face, but I know who it was by the size, and the mean looking eyes." said Claude. "Did he speak or say anything that could help us? to identify him?" asked the sheriff.

"No, he didn't say a word. He just came into my house and tied my hands behind my back before he dragged me outside and beat me with a switch," answered Claude.?

"Well, as you know, it has been dry of late, and there are no footprints or other evidence to make a case. I just have your word against Bob, and if he denies it I will have to believe him, being a
church going man, deacon and all. Never been in trouble with the law or anything.? He? didn't hit you
? with his fist, so there are no bruises to be found on his knuckles. I can't go accusing him without more to go on than your word. I believe the best thing for you to do, Claude, is to get yourself out of this town.

Someone thinks you needed a good whipping and gave it to you. It could have been a lot worse. You were not badly injured this time. It may have only been a warning and the next time you might not live to tell the tale." advised the sheriff.

The sheriff wrote it up as an unexplained incident and closed the books on it. ? A few days later Claude sold his livestock and moved away. There was a lot of talk and speculation among the town folks about who could have done that to Claude.? However, no one ever asked Grandpa if he was
the man who gave Claude the whipping. In fact, it was never mentioned within earshot of my grandpa.?

CBWEST @webtv.net

About me
Born in the mountains of NC, I learned to love story telling at a young age. For the past 36 years, I have lived in Texas. Three dogs, numerous cats and other critters share my home.

Nik ki's condition? has been downgraded from serious to critical... her body is shutting down.. my son has just been called to the hospital... love, Al

? Agee, Vance;? Apted, Violet;? Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al;? Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela

Boda, Ginger;? ? Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.;? Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark;?

Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Gilbert, Robert Jr; Goodier, Steve; Halley, Ellie Braun;

Jacobson, Gary;? Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim Jenkins, Pamela;

Liles, Norma; Lilly, Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Mazzella, Joe;? Morris, Deepak;

? Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan;? Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan