It seems like every time I turn around there are warnings about animal food and human food made in China for consumption in the United States.

I am very careful to give nothing from China to my dogs. Read the alert below:

It seems there’s another dog snack from China to worry about: sweet potato treats.

According to the Veterinary Information Network (VIN) 1, vets are now reporting health problems linked to sweet potato treats similar to those related to chicken jerky treats also made in China.

Test results on sick dogs show kidney problems similar to the symptoms of Fanconi syndrome. Most dogs recover, but there have been some deaths related to the chicken jerky treat problem.

Symptoms may show up within hours or days after a treat is eaten and include decreased appetite, vomiting, diarrhea, lethargy, and increased thirst and urination.

If you’ve fed your dog either chicken jerky treats or sweet potato treats made in China and your pet has fallen ill, I recommend you contact your veterinarian – especially if the symptoms persist for more than 24 hours or are severe.

Read the full story here: http://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2012/07/20/sweet-potato-dog-treats.aspx

I have blogged the following in the past,  but in this series on grief, I thought it appropriate to blog it again.  Meredith

A Dog’s Last Will and Testament—Unselfish to the End     (Author anonymous)

When humans die they prepare a will in order to leave their home and everything they own to all those they love.

If I were able to write I would also make out such a will:

To a poor lonely full of longing stray I would leave my happy home, my food bowl, my cozy bed,

my soft pillow, my toys, and my beloved lap– The gently stroking hand, the loving voice, the place

I had in someone’s heart, and the love which at the end will help me towards a peaceful painless end

while being held in loving arms.

And when I die then please don’t say:

“Never again will I have a dog the loss is much too painful.”

Find yourself a lonely unloved dog and give it my place in your heart.

That is my bequest.  The love I leave behind is all that I have to give.

MY WENDY—THERE WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER AS SHE WAS HER OWN LITTLE PERSON AND MY HEART

It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of my beloved “Wendy” who almost made it to 15. Ch. Rattlebridge Dutch Treat ROM—the first wholecolor ROM. She won the National Brood Bitch Class twice and helped retire two lovely Llardo figurines, which I treasure, of Cavaliers with young girls.  The awards do not matter; she was what mattered.  I loved her with all my heart and she loved me equally. Her heart was great but old age indignities got to the point when she needed to rest.  She rallied so often as she truly did not want to leave me to fend for myself as she was always with me to supervise. I was her total slave and she made sure that I knew it. What can I say?  She was my total heart and I cannot believe her diva bark isn’t ringing in my ears or that her ears are not in my face and her head on my neck.  Over the years her ears caught so many of my tears. I had to let her go one week before the second anniversary of Al’s death. Now she can order Al around and the other Rattlebridges at the rainbow bridge.  I always say that if  you cannot face the agony of losing them, you never have the joy of having them.  She was my joy, my heart, and my salvation after Al died. Rest in peace my Wendy.    Meredith

The following poignant says it all.  I have given my heart to many dogs to tear and with their passing my heart is truly torn.

"The Power of the Dog"

by Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie --
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find -- it's your own affair --
But . . . you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit hat answered your every mood
Is gone -- wherever it goes -- for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept'em, the more do we grieve;

For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long --
So why in -- Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

I just lost my Wendy.  I will blog more about her and the grief associated with losing her.  A friend sent me the following and I feel that it really introduces the themes of grief, dogs and other pets going to heaven, and the rainbow bridge which will appear in subsequent blogs.
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.
He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.
After a while, they came to a high,white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.
When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate,and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.

When he was close enough, he called out, ‘Excuse me, where are we?’
‘This is Heaven, sir,’ the man answered.
‘Wow! Would you happen to have some water?’ the man asked.
‘Of course, sir. Come right in, and I’ll have some icewater brought right up.’
The man gestured, and the gate began to open. ‘Can my friend,’ gesturing toward his dog, ‘come in, too?’the traveler asked.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t accept pets.’
The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.
After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.

‘Excuse me!’ he called to the man. ‘Do you have any water?’
‘Yeah, sure, there’s a pump over there, come on in.’
‘How about my friend here?’ the traveler gestured to the dog.
‘There should be a bowl by the pump,’ said the man.
They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself,then he gave some to the dog.
When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree. ‘What do you call this place?’ the traveler asked.
‘This is Heaven,’ he answered.
‘Well, that’s confusing,’ the traveler said.
‘The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.’
‘Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That’s Hell.’
‘Doesn’t it make you mad for them to use your name like that?’
‘No, we’re just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind.’

Please take a few minutes to watch this short video. It is horrifying to think this can happen in our country. I am sick that the civil rights of these farmers can be trampled by one person from the Dept. of Natural Resources leading the charge to take away these farmers’ livelihoods and way of life. 

http://blog.timesunion.com/farmlife/8892/beyond-horrifying-kill-your-pigs-or-pay-20000-for-each/

You’ll need to click on the orange    Hogwash – the American Pig Tale

It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of my beloved “Wendy” who almost made it to 15. Ch. Rattlebridge Dutch Treat ROM—the first wholecolor ROM. Her heart was great but old age indignities got to the point when she needed to rest.  She rallied so often as she truly did not want to leave me to fend for myself as she was always with me to supervise. I was her total slave and she made sure that I knew it. What can I say? She was my total heart and I cannot believe her diva bark isn’t ringing in my ears or that her ears are not in my face and her head on my neck.  Over the years her ears caught so many of my tears. I had to let her go one week before the second anniversary of Al’s death. Now she can order Al around and the other Rattlebridges at the rainbow bridge.  I always say that if you cannot face the agony of losing them, you never have the joy of having them. She was my joy, my heart, and my salvation after Al died. Rest in peace my Wendy. Meredith

The following vignette emphasizes the honor we owe our servicemen.
I put my carry-on in the  luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned  seat. It was going to be a long flight. ‘I’m  glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will  get a short nap,’ I thought.

Just before take-off,  a line of soldiers came down the aisle and  filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding  me. I decided to start a conversation.

‘Where are you headed?’ I asked the soldier seated nearest to  me. ‘Petawawa. We’ll be there for two  weeks for special training, and then we’re being  deployed to Afghanistan    After flying for about an hour, an announcement was  made that sack lunches were available for five  dollars… It would be several hours before we  reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch  would help pass the time…

As I reached for my wallet, I overheard a soldier ask his buddy if  he planned to buy lunch. ‘No, that seems  like a lot of money for just a sack lunch.  Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks.  I’ll wait till we get to base.’    His friend agreed.    I looked around at the  other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked  to the back of the plane and handed the flight  attendant a fifty dollar bill.  ‘Take a  lunch to all those soldiers.’ She grabbed my  arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with  tears, she thanked me. ‘My son was a soldier in  Iraq ; it’s almost like you are doing it for  him.’  Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the  soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and  asked, ‘Which do you like best – beef or  chicken?’ ‘Chicken,’ I replied,  wondering why she asked. She turned and went to  the front of plane, returning a minute later  with a dinner plate from first class.    ‘This is your thanks.’

After we finished  eating, I went again to the back of the plane,  heading for the rest room.  A man stopped me. ‘I saw what you did. I want to  be part of it… Here, take this.’ He handed me  twenty-five dollars.

Soon after I returned  to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down  the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he  walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but  noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my  side of the plane. When he got to my row he  stopped, smiled, held out his hand and said, ‘I  want to shake your hand.’ Quickly unfastening my  seatbelt I stood and took the Captain’s hand.  With a booming voice he said, ‘I was a soldier  and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought  me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never  forgot.’ I was embarrassed when applause was  heard from all of the passengers.

Later I walked to the  front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A  man who was seated about six rows in front of me  reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He  left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.    When we landed I  gathered my belongings and started to deplane…  Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man  who stopped me, put something in my shirt  pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a  word. Another twenty-five dollars!
Upon entering the  terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their  trip to the base. I walked over to  them and handed them seventy-five dollars. ‘It  will take you some time to reach the base.   It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.’  Ten young  men left that flight feeling the love and  respect of their fellow travelers.    As I walked briskly to  my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe  return. These soldiers were giving their all for  our country. I could only give them a couple of  meals. It seemed so little…

A veteran is someone  who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank  check made payable to ‘The United States of  America ‘ for an amount of ‘up to and  including my life.’    That is Honor, and  there are way too many people in this country  who no longer understand it.’

It is amazing to me how a little authority of certain officials, usually those who take themselves too seriously,

can lead to power trips, bullying tactics, abuse of authority, and lack of respect toward the citizens who put them in office

in the first place. It seems as if our politicians’ lack of respect for “we the people” has grown in proportion to their lack of respect

for what our country has always stood and for the Constitution under which they serve. M

The Arrogance of Authority

A DEA officer stopped at a ranch in Texas , and talked with an old rancher.

He told the rancher, "I need to inspect your ranch for illegally grown drugs."

The rancher said, "Okay , but don’t go in that field over there…..", as he pointed out the location.

The DEA officer verbally exploded saying, " Mister, I have the authority of the Federal Government with me !"

Reaching into his rear pants pocket, he removed his badge and proudly displayed it to the rancher.

"See this badge?!  This badge means I am allowed to go wherever I wish…. On any land !!

No questions asked or answers given!!  Have I made myself clear……do you understand ?!!"

The rancher nodded politely, apologized, and went about his chores.

A short time later, the old rancher heard loud screams, looked up, and saw the DEA officer running

for his life, being chased by the rancher’s big Santa Gertrudis bull……

With every step the bull was gaining ground on the officer,

and it seemed likely that he’d sure enough get gored before he reached safety. 

The officer was clearly terrified. The rancher threw down his tools, ran to the fence and yelled at the top of his lungs…..

          ( just love this part….)

"Your badge, show him your BADGE…….. ! !"

—

In some cultures and countries, history is as current as if events happened yesterday. The Irish can recount every detail of every battle of the history of their country. Memories are long indeed and the same battles fought and dissected in all the local pubs. In our own local Appalachian culture, clan warfare is still hotly remembered just as in the saga of the Hatfields and McCoys. However, as a country, our memories seem very short indeed when it comes to remembering our own history as a nation and all the men and women who fought and sacrificed to keep our Flag waving. Patriotism needs a real shot in the arm in our land and maybe the following will hit its target. Memorial Day is for remembering, honoring, respecting, and emulating our heroes not only those who have won Congressional Medals of Honor like our hero below or shed blood and died to keep us free, but all those unsung heroes who have made and are still making a difference in keeping America the greatest country in the world.

Happy Memorial Day, Meredith.

VanT. Barfoot died at the age of 92 on 2 March 2012.

Remember the guy who wouldn’t take the flag down? You might remember a news story several months ago about a crotchety old man who defied his homeowners association and refused to take down the flagpole on his property and the large flag that flew on it. Now you can find out who, exactly, that old man was. On June 15, 1919, Van T. Barfoot was born in Edinburg — probably didn’t make much news back then. Twenty-five years later, on May 23, 1944, near Carano, Italy, Van T. Barfoot, who had enlisted in the US Army in 1940, set out to flank German machine gun positions from which fire was coming down on his fellow soldiers. He advanced through a minefield, took out three enemy machine gun positions and returned with 17 prisoners of war.

If that wasn’t enough for a day’s work, he later took on and destroyed three German tanks sent to retake the machine gun positions.
That probably didn’t make much news either, given the scope of the war, but it did earn Van T. Barfoot, who retired as a Colonel after also serving in  Korea and Vietnam, a Congressional Medal of Honor.

What did make news… was a neighborhood association’s quibble with how the 90-year-old veteran chose to fly the American flag outside his suburban Virginia home. Seems the rules said a flag could be flown on a house-mounted bracket, but, for decorum, items such as Barfoot’s 21-foot flagpole were unsuitable. 

He had been denied a permit for the pole, erected it anyway and was facing court action if he didn’t take it down. 

Since the story made national TV, the neighborhood association has rethought its position and agreed

to indulge this old hero who dwells among them. “In the time I have left I plan to continue to fly the American flag without interference,” Barfoot told The Associated Press. As well he should. And if any of his neighbors still takes a notion to contest him, they might want to read his Medal of Honor citation. It indicates he’s not real good at backing down.

Van T. Barfoot’s Medal of Honor citation:

This 1944 Medal of Honor citation, listed with the National Medal of Honor Society, is for Second Lieutenant Van T. Barfoot.

WE ONLY LIVE IN THE LAND OF THE FREE… BECAUSE OF THE BRAVE!  AND, BECAUSE OF OLD MEN LIKE VAN BARFOOT!

In Memoriam