Claudia Closmann
12.12.2003, 09:12
Dies kam heute morgen ueber RR-Folk, verfasst von Elizabeth Akers.
T'was the night before Christmas, And all through the pound
Not a creature was hopeful, Not even the hound.
The dogs stayed together, all piled in a mound,
they dreamed of past lives and of homes yet unfound
The food bins were full though - fresh water aflowing
Some puppies huddled and whimpered, they did not know it was snowing
They dreamed of a warmth they had not yet been given
such bliss that would be, could they be in such heaven?
The stench overwhelmed them, the death overpowering
The hopelessness evident in all their surrounding
Yet every so often a head would raise up and
a noise could be heard that sounded like "help"
The chain link a-clanking, the cold and the smell
They watched dogs arrive - there many unwell
The officer dragging the pit by the chain, was he tame?
The rottweiler snarling, cold, afraid and so lame.
The springer a snoring, the bulldog awake
The lhasa so matted it needs a good rake
The cocker had cherry eye,a man picked him up quick
He took little Muffin to a vet who was slick
the shepherd so loyal, cast out all the same -
alone and unhappy to the shelter it came
A small little Pom, half naked, not at all bold
Some one had dumped her out into the cold
The Ridgeback was dying, his life almost gone
when a young little voice cried "Oh Mum, he's the one."
They swathed him in blankets turned the heater up high.
The old hound was delirious and gave a huge sigh
The boy said please hurry to his mom in the car
and they raced the old Ridgeback to the vet not too far
The boy prayed for the hound dog, that one with the ridge
and hoped that soon he would steal food from the fridge
The vet treated him well and the hound soon sat up
he thought he was dreaming that he was again a small pup
He was dry, warm and toasty, he was really not wet,
He had arms all around him, they held him tight yet
He thought back to the shelter and what he had left
and hoped very fervently the others had not wept
as they sat in the cold and the damp and the wet
just waiting and waiting to go to the vet
The hound hoped for saviours for the rest at the pound
It was Christmas after all, they deserved to sleep sound
The hound, he was rescued, just in time, so it would seem
The others - forgotten - except for the rescuer's dream
To save them all finally, let not one of them die
Is each rescuer's fantasy, let us not live a lie
We can spay, we can neuter, we can chip and tattoo
Let us give them a Christmas and a whole life anew
Elizabeth Akers
December 2003
T'was the night before Christmas, And all through the pound
Not a creature was hopeful, Not even the hound.
The dogs stayed together, all piled in a mound,
they dreamed of past lives and of homes yet unfound
The food bins were full though - fresh water aflowing
Some puppies huddled and whimpered, they did not know it was snowing
They dreamed of a warmth they had not yet been given
such bliss that would be, could they be in such heaven?
The stench overwhelmed them, the death overpowering
The hopelessness evident in all their surrounding
Yet every so often a head would raise up and
a noise could be heard that sounded like "help"
The chain link a-clanking, the cold and the smell
They watched dogs arrive - there many unwell
The officer dragging the pit by the chain, was he tame?
The rottweiler snarling, cold, afraid and so lame.
The springer a snoring, the bulldog awake
The lhasa so matted it needs a good rake
The cocker had cherry eye,a man picked him up quick
He took little Muffin to a vet who was slick
the shepherd so loyal, cast out all the same -
alone and unhappy to the shelter it came
A small little Pom, half naked, not at all bold
Some one had dumped her out into the cold
The Ridgeback was dying, his life almost gone
when a young little voice cried "Oh Mum, he's the one."
They swathed him in blankets turned the heater up high.
The old hound was delirious and gave a huge sigh
The boy said please hurry to his mom in the car
and they raced the old Ridgeback to the vet not too far
The boy prayed for the hound dog, that one with the ridge
and hoped that soon he would steal food from the fridge
The vet treated him well and the hound soon sat up
he thought he was dreaming that he was again a small pup
He was dry, warm and toasty, he was really not wet,
He had arms all around him, they held him tight yet
He thought back to the shelter and what he had left
and hoped very fervently the others had not wept
as they sat in the cold and the damp and the wet
just waiting and waiting to go to the vet
The hound hoped for saviours for the rest at the pound
It was Christmas after all, they deserved to sleep sound
The hound, he was rescued, just in time, so it would seem
The others - forgotten - except for the rescuer's dream
To save them all finally, let not one of them die
Is each rescuer's fantasy, let us not live a lie
We can spay, we can neuter, we can chip and tattoo
Let us give them a Christmas and a whole life anew
Elizabeth Akers
December 2003