Index of UK Animal Sanctuaries and Rescue Centres
These are 'snippets' of information, poems, letters etc. that I have heard, read etc. and think that others should have the benefit of:
Two poems I found recently on the Doris Banham Dog Rescue site:http://www.dogsos.co.uk/
Just a Staffy Cross.
Today is just another day - to me they're all the same
I have the worst of genes you see, I bear the "Staffy" shame.
The shame is in our numbers, there's thousands with no home.
Thousands just like me you'll find, in kennels all alone.
My mum was "just a Staffy", my father - well who knows?
Mum, too, became unwanted, as the last puppy goes.
And then begins the process, of money-making deals
A life of "moving on" unfolds, who cares how the Staffy feels?
If you have the cash to hand, the Staffy pup is yours
But that pup is getting bigger now, just look at those big paws.
You brought me for your image, thought I'd make you look more tough
But you'll find my boisterous nature has already got too much.
If you had thought to train me, with kindness and with praise
You would have had a faithful friend to share your darkest days.
I would lay down my life for you, but you simply cannot see
You make sure you get your money back on what you paid for me.
And on it goes, until one day, I'm no longer worth a dime
The retail on an adult staff - not worth the waste of time.
So what happens to a Staffy now? Do you really want to know?
Do you care what will become of us, when we leave our final home?
Have you ever thought to wonder, "Where is that Staffy now?"
The "Staffy" has another name; he's become a "stray" somehow.
Me, I was put into a car and driven far away
The door held open, I jumped out, I thought to run and play.
It was with joy and happy heart I turned to look for you
You drove away with all my trust and a piece of my heart too.
I wondered round for many days before I was brought here.
Now I wait with heavy heart, trepidation and with fear.
Seven days is all I have you see, seven days for you to claim
The little dog that you threw out, for which you have no shame.
This is my last goodbye now my seven days are up
If only more thought had gone into the future of that pup
As the needle empties to my veins I lay down with one last sigh
I'm sorry I was born a Staffy, because it means that I must die.
No more lonely cold nights or hearing that I'm bad
No more growling belly from the meals I never had
No more scorching sunshine with a water bowl thats dry
No more complaining neighbours about the noise when I cry
No more hearing 'shut up', 'get down' 'get out of here'
No more feeling disliked only peace is in the air
Euthanasia is a blessing, though some still can't see
Why I was ever born, if I weren't meant to be
My last day of living was the best I ever had
Someone held me very close, I could see she was so sad
I kissed the lady's face and she hugged me as she cried
I wagged my tail to thank her, then I closed my eyes and.....
A poem I initially found on a cat rescue website that unfortunately doesn't exist anymore. When I searched the internet though, I discovered it on several websites. It is attributed to both John Quealy and Bev Davenport depending on which website you find it. As I don't know who was the real author I will attribute it to both. Even though it appears on so many sites I feel it epitomises what all the centres on this site are about and therefore feel no guilt at including it here.
"Prayer Of A Stray"
Dear God please send me somebody who'll care!
I'm tired of running, I'm sick with despair.
My body is aching, it's so racked with pain.
And Dear God I pray as I run in the rain,
"That someone will love me and give me a home.
A warm cozy bed I can call my own
My last owner neglected me and chased me away
To rummage in garbage and live as a stray.
But now God I'm tired and hungry and cold.
And I'm afraid that I'll never grow old.
They've chased me with sticks and hit me with stones
While I run in the streets just looking for bones!
I'm not really bad God, please help if you can.
For I have become just a "VICTIM OF MAN!"
I'm wormy Dear God and I'm ridden with fleas and
All that I want is an owner to please!
If you find one for me God, I'll try to be good
I won't run away and I'll do as I should.
I don't think I'll make it too long on my own,
Cause I'm getting so weak and I'm so all alone.
Each night as I sleep in the bushes I cry,
Cause I'm so afraid God, that I'm gonna die!
And I've got so much love and devotion to give,
That I should be given a new chance to live.
So Dear God PLEASE, PLEASE answer my prayer
And send me somebody who WILL really care
That is dear God; if You're really there!...
Author Unknown (John Quealy or Bev Davenport)
"A thought for the Festive Season"
Twas the night before Christmas
when all thru the house
Not a creature was stirring
... not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nick soon would be there.
The children all nestled snug in their beds
With no thought of the dog filling their head.
And mom in her kerchief and I in my cap
Knew the dog was cold, but didnít care about that.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Figuring the dog was free of his chain and into the trash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But Santa Clause with his eyes full of tears.
He unchained the dog once so lively and quick
Last yearís Christmas present now painfully sick.
More rapid than eagles he called the dogís name
and the dog ran to him despite all his pain.
Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen
On Comet on Cupid on Donner and Blitzen.
To the top of the porch to the top of the wall
Letís find this dog a home where he will be loved by all.
I knew in an instant there would be no gifts this year
For Santa had made one thing quite clear.
The gift of a dog is not just for the season
We had gotten the dog for all the wrong reasons.
In our haste to think of the kids a gift
There was one important thing we missed
A dog should be family, and cared for the same
You donít give a gift, then put it on a chain.
And I heard him explain as he rode out of sight,
ďYou werenít given a gift, you were given a life
A letter sent to Bleakholt News:
An old lady once told me that if you have more than 1 pet, you should always let the living see the dead.
Patrick, my feral cat was separated from his girlfriend because he had ringworm, they used to look at each other through the window. On the day he died I let my 5 cats and 2 dogs come into the room, they all stood round his bed with their heads bowed just for a few seconds. It was so beautiful that I cried. I cried because these animals show so much respect to each other, if only human beings followed their example.
In Derek Tangye's book "A cat in the Window"
- about his and his wife's cat Monty, he described how, at the end, a robin, a chaffinch, and a gull who had all shared Monty's days at Minack, stood in silence close by.
A comment from an internet friend
I'm flippin' fed up of seeing tiny little foals and weanlings in horrible tacky market/auction venues being sold by the dozen for less than a ? per head - stupidity of mankind is unfathomable!
A friend and business associate quoted his father as saying: "Always pay a man before he has wiped the sweat off his brow"