Found Treasures

Today I found a back up disk from 'waaaayyyyyy baaackkkk' when. I think this is from a computer that primarily ran Windows ME (millenium edition) ... badly at that. Although,I think I eventually upgraded it to 2000. In fact, now that I think about it, we still have it and it still 'works' after a fashion but it's many a reformat ago that this disk is a back up of.

On it were a number of files I'm glad I found. Some patterns I'd saved from here and there on various websites that are long gone. Some notes for stories I was writing at the time (and still to be honest lol) and a few other saved emails and such.

The following was among these files, and since at the end of it, it says to repost freely I'm doing so. If anyone knows where this is from or who wrote it, please let us all know in the comments as it deserves credit.

Enjoy...

I went out last night, just after midnight, to make sure all the heat lamps
were working in the goat, chicken and turkey houses. The temperature was
supposed to go to zero or below. All the dogs had long gone to bed and the
night was silent. Stepping on the porch I was greeted with the sight of a
crystal clear sky and multitudes of stars. Turning on the flashlight (we
refuse to have one of those blasted dusk to dawn monstrosities that keep the
stars from shining) I made my way to the barn.

Earlier in the evening I had taken some straw to freshen the farm animal's
bedding, and had dropped a flake outside the gate that I failed to retrieve.
Walking down the drive, I saw a set of bloody paw prints pressed into the
snow, that came out of the woods and ended at the pile of straw by the gate.

Curled on the pile of straw was a dog. Medium sized. Could have been any
kind of dog. It was hard to tell in the darkness. The only thing for sure
was that it was a dark color. I put my hand on the back and felt cold ribs.

I took my gloves off and felt behind the front leg. A heart beat. Then I
heard a faint thump. The end of the tail was going up and down making a
slight impression in the snow, but the head didn't move. I saw the deep
brown eyes that seemed to say, "please don't run me off. I can't take
another step." The feet
were cracked and bleeding. I checked to make sure the heat lamps were
working and gently scooped up the frozen dog. No resistance, just the thump
of the tail. Not much weight for the size of the bundle. I made my way to
the front door.

Coming inside I laid the dog down inside the door. It never moved. Checking
to make sure everyone was still asleep, I began the search for a blanket. I
was pretty sure we had used the last dog blanket for our latest rescue.
Nothing in the closet, nothing in the dryer, nothing on the couch. I went to
the bedroom
and gently retrieved the one off the bed. Even it, was old and beginning to
fray around the edges, but it was the last one available. I folded it and
set it by the heat register closest to the furnace. Then I picked up the dog
and laid it down on top.

After midnight, on New Year's Eve, in a very rural area of Southwest
Missouri no way I could get a Vet to see this one tonight. We would have to
try tomorrow. I went to the kitchen and took a container of chicken broth
out of the fridge and popped in the microwave. I went back to the living
room and set the bowl down next to the blanket, within easy reach of the
cold nose. Another thump of the tail, was the only movement.

I reached down and put my hand under the chin, gently lifting the head. Now
inside I could see that the dog was black, at least on the parts that had
not turned gray. Almost the entire face showed the white signs of time past,
and the pupils surrounded by those dark brown eyes were blue. The ears were
that of a Lab and so was the tail which thumped every time I came near. The
body was skin and bone. There were no front teeth. The canines were worn or
broken down to nubs, and I was able to see three teeth in the back. I didn't
want to pry to see if the old dog was a male or female. It really didn't
matter anyway. I told the old dog I was going to go to bed and patted it's
head which was met by another thump of the tail.

On my way to the bedroom, I wondered how in the world the dog had gotten to
our farm. It came through the woods which were large and uninhabited. I also
wondered why here. The answer was simple. The hand of God had brought the
old dog to the right place.

It's morning now and I've been up for a few hours. The bowl of broth was
empty and the blanket was much as I had left it. No bloody paw prints on the
carpet, only on the old blanket. Sometime after I went to bed, the old dog
lapped up the chicken broth and licked the bowl clean. The blanket had been
fluffed a little and the old dog had curled into a tight ball with the nose
tucked inside the tail. When I bent down to say good morning, there was no
thump of the tail. I knew then that the old dog had crossed the Rainbow
Bridge in the night. Kneeling there in front of the old dog, I thanked God
for the one old blanket I had left and for the hand that gently guided the
old dog to Rainbow Farms. It was then
that I thought of the poem that Walt had written for us:

"Listen to the kindness, spoken softly,
Often lost behind the tears.
Place your hand upon my shoulder,
Let it take away my fears."

- --Walt Zientek

May the New Year bring you closer to the hand of God, and all the old
blankets you may need.

Permission is given to repost anywhere - maybe it'll catch a few who don't
appreciate the gift they have.