The Old Man and the Dog

Once again I have resorted to printing a complete article in the blog.  I do not know the author.  This was sent to me in an email.  I touched my heart, I hope it will touch yours.

Subject: NOT SURE IF THIS IS TRUE BUT IT IS NICE!

A beautiful story. Worth the couple of minutes it takes to read  it.


Watch out! You nearly broad-sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't
you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head
toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A
lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another
battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really
felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled
back.

At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my
thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The
rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do
about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being
outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of
nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed
often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to
his prowess.


The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log,
he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone,
straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about
his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger
man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance
sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood
and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating
room. He was lucky; he survived But something inside Dad died.. His zest for
life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions
and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of
visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left
alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We
hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed
nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became
frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick We
began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up
weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he
prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore
on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do
it. 

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the
mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to
each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving
up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that
might help you! Let me go get the article....." I listened as she
read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All
of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their
attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for
a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a
questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of
disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each
contained five to seven dogs Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black
dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each
one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too
small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the
far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat
down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a
caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with
shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was
his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me
unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer
looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out
of nowhere and sat in front of the gate We brought him in, figuring someone
would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard
nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly. As the
words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill
him?" "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room
for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll
take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.
When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out
of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got
for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in
disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have
picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want
it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the
house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my
temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad
ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled
angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with
hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the
pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in
front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw... Dad's lower
jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger
in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging
the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer
Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long
hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks
of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday
services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at is
feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three
years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.. Then
late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing
through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.
I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his
bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the
night. 

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead
beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on.
As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked
the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of
mind.


The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the
way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for
family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made
filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both
Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned
to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by
this some have entertained angels without knowing it." "I've often
thanked God for sending that angel," he said. 

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen
before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...
Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter... his calm
acceptance and complete devotion to my father.... and the proximity of their
deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers
after all.

Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and
forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you
cry. You might not get a second chance. And if you don't send this to anyone
-- no one will know. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be
found.

God answers our prayers in His time... not ours...
AMEN?..

The Lights Are Going Out All Over Europe.

The enemy calls it Islamophobia.   I have no fear of Islam.  I have no fear of snakes.  However every poisonous one around my family, I kill.  I would not go out and bring them into my yard.  Yet we are letting the enemy do just that.  Read and pass on if you feel like it in any way.

Nothing funny about this one. Snopes says the speech is properly attributed:

Here is the speech of Geert Wilders, Chairman, Party for Freedom, the Netherlands, at the Four Seasons, New York,  introducing an Alliance of Patriots and announcing the Facing  Jihad Conference in Jerusalem.

The Lights are Going Out All Over Europe

Geert Wilders is a Dutch Member of  Parliament

In a generation or two, the US will ask itself: "Who lost Europe?"

"Dear Friends,

Thank you very much for  inviting me.  I come to America with a mission.  All  is not well in the old world.
There is a tremendous danger  looming, and it is very difficult to be optimistic. 

We might be in  the final stages of the Islamization of Europe.  This not  only is a clear and present danger to the future of Europe  itself, it is a threat to America and the sheer survival of the  West.  The United States as the last bastion of Western  civilization, facing an Islamic Europe.
First I will describe  the situation on the ground in Europe. Then, I will say a few  things about Islam.  To close I will tell you about a  meeting in Jerusalem.

The Europe you know is  changing.

You have probably seen the landmarks. But in  all of these cities, sometimes a few blocks away from your  tourist destination, there is another world. It is the world of  the parallel society created by Muslim  mass-migration.

All throughout Europe a new reality is  rising: entire Muslim neighborhoods where very few indigenous  people reside or are even seen. And if they are, they might  regret it. This goes for the police as well. It's the world of  head scarves, where women walk around in figureless tents, with  baby strollers and a group of children. Their husbands, or  slaveholders if you prefer, walk three steps ahead. With mosques  on many street corners. The shops have signs you and I cannot  read.  You will be hard-pressed to find any economic  activity.  These are Muslim ghettos controlled by religious  fanatics.  These are Muslim neighborhoods, and they are  mushrooming in every city across Europe. These are the  building-blocks for territorial control of increasingly larger  portions of Europe, street by street, neighborhood by  neighborhood, city by city.

There are now thousands of  mosques throughout Europe With larger congregations than there  are in churches. And in every European city there are plans to  build super-mosques that will dwarf every church in the region.  Clearly, the signal is: we rule.

Many European cities are  already one-quarter Muslim: just take Amsterdam, Marseilles and  Malmo in Sweden. In many cities the majority of the under-18  population is Muslim. Paris is now surrounded by a ring of  Muslim neighborhoods.  Mohammad is the most popular name  among boys in many cities.

In some elementary schools in  Amsterdam the farm can no longer be mentioned, because that  would also mean mentioning the pig, and that would be an insult  to Muslims.

Many state schools in Belgium and Denmark  only serve halal food to all pupils. In once-tolerant Amsterdam  gays are beaten up almost exclusively by Muslims. Non-Muslim  women routinely hear 'whore, whore'. Satellite dishes are not  pointed to local TV stations, but to stations in the country of  origin.

In France school teachers are advised to avoid  authors deemed offensive to Muslims, including Voltaire and  Diderot; the same is increasingly true of Darwin. The history of  the Holocaust can no longer be taught because of Muslim  sensitivity.

In England sharia courts are now officially  part of the British legal system. Many neighborhoods in France  are no-go areas for women without head scarves. Last week a man  almost died after being beaten up by Muslims in Brussels,  because he was drinking during the Ramadan.

Jews are  fleeing France in record numbers, on the run for the worst wave  of anti-Semitism since World War II.  French is now  commonly spoken on the streets of Tel Aviv and Netanya, Israel.  I could go on forever with stories like this. Stories about  Islamization.

A total of fifty-four million Muslims now  live in Europe. San Diego University recently calculated that a  staggering 25 percent of the population in Europe will be Muslim  just 12 years from now.  Bernhardt Lewis has predicted a  Muslim majority by the end of this century.

Now these are  just numbers.  And the numbers would not be threatening if  the Muslim-immigrants had a strong desire to assimilate. But  there are few signs of that. The Pew Research Center reported  that half of French Muslims see their loyalty to Islam as  greater than their loyalty to France. One-third of French  Muslims do not object to suicide attacks.  The British  Centre for Social Cohesion reported that one-third of British  Muslim students are in favor of a worldwide caliphate   Muslims demand what they call 'respect'.  And this is how  we give them respect.  We have Muslim official state  holidays. 

 The Christian-Democratic attorney general is  willing to accept sharia in the Netherlands if there is a Muslim  majority.  

We have cabinet members with passports from  Morocco and Turkey.

Muslim demands are supported by  unlawful behavior, ranging from petty crimes and random  violence, for example against ambulance workers and bus drivers,  to small-scale riots. Paris has seen its uprising in the  low-income suburbs, the banlieus.  I call the perpetrators  settler's. Because that is what they are.  They do not  come to integrate into our societies; they come to integrate our  society into their Dar-al-Islam.  Therefore, they are  settlers.

Much of this street violence I mentioned is  directed exclusively against non-Muslims, forcing many native  people to leave their neighborhoods, their cities, their  countries.  Moreover, Muslims are now a swing vote not to  be ignored.

The second thing you need to know is the  importance of Mohammed the prophet. His behavior is an example  to all Muslims and cannot be criticized.  Now, if Mohammed  had been a man of peace, let us say like Ghandi and Mother  Theresa wrapped in one, there would be no problem. But Mohammed  was a warlord, a mass murderer, a pedophile, and had several  marriages - at the same time. Islamic tradition tells us how he  fought in battles, how he had his enemies murdered and even had  prisoners of war executed. Mohammad himself slaughtered the  Jewish tribe of Banu Qurayza.  If it is good for Islam, it  is good. If it is bad for Islam, it is bad.

Let no one  fool you about Islam being a religion.  Sure, it has a god,  and a here-after, and 72 virgins. But in its essence Islam is a  political ideology. It is a system that lays down detailed rules  for society and the life of every person. Islam wants to dictate  every aspect of life.  Islam means 'submission'.   Islam is not compatible with freedom and democracy, because what  it strives for is Sharia.  If you want to compare Islam to  anything, compare it to communism or national-socialism, these  are all totalitarian ideologies.

Now you know why Winston  Churchill called Islam 'the most retrograde force in the world',  and why he compared Mein Kampf to the Quran. The public has  wholeheartedly accepted the Palestinian narrative, and sees  Israel as the aggressor.  I have lived in this country and  visited it dozens of times.  I support Israel.  First,  because it is the Jewish homeland after two thousand years of  exile up to and including Auschwitz.  Second because it is  a democracy.  And third because Israel is our first line of  defense.

This tiny country is situated on the fault line  of jihad, frustrating Islam's territorial advance.  Israel  is facing the front lines of jihad, like Kashmir, Kosovo, the  Philippines, Southern Thailand, Darfur in Sudan, Lebanon, and  Aceh in Indonesia.  Israel is simply in the way.  The  same way West-Berlin was during the Cold War.

The war  against Israel is not a war against Israel.  It is a war  against the West.  It is jihad.  Israel is simply  receiving the blows that are meant for all of us.  If there  would have been no Israel, Islamic imperialism would have found  other venues to release its energy and its desire for conquest.  Thanks to Israeli parents who send their children to the army  and lay awake at night, parents in Europe and America can sleep  well and dream, unaware of the dangers looming.

Many in  Europe argue in favor of abandoning Israel in order to address  the grievances of our Muslim minorities.  But if Israel  were, God forbid, to go down, it would not bring any solace to  the West.  It would not mean our Muslim minorities would  all of a sudden change their behavior, and accept our  values.  On the contrary, the end of Israel would give  enormous encouragement to the forces of Islam.  They would,  and rightly so, see the demise of Israel as proof that the West  is weak, and doomed.  The end of Israel would not mean the  end of our problems with Islam, but only the beginning. It would  mean the start of the final battle for world domination. If they  can get Israel, they can get everything.  So-called  journalists volunteer to label any and all critics of Islam as a  'right-wing extremists' or 'racists'.  In my country, the  Netherlands, 60 percent of the population now sees the mass  immigration of Muslims as the number one policy mistake since  World War II.  And another 60 percent sees Islam as the  biggest threat.  Yet there is a greater danger than  terrorist attacks, the scenario of America as the last man  standing.  The lights may go out in Europe faster than you  can imagine.  An Islamic Europe means a Europe without  freedom and democracy, an economic wasteland, an intellectual  nightmare, and a loss of military might for America - as its  allies will turn into enemies, enemies with atomic bombs.   With an Islamic Europe, it would be up to America alone to  preserve the heritage of Rome, Athens and Jerusalem

Dear  friends, Liberty is the most precious of gifts.  My  generation never had to fight for this freedom, it was offered  to us on a silver platter, by people who fought for it with  their lives.  All throughout Europe, American cemeteries  remind us of the young boys who never made it home, and whose  memory we cherish.  My generation does not own this  freedom; we are merely its custodians.  We can only hand  over this hard won liberty to Europe's children in the same  state in which it was offered to us.  We cannot strike a  deal with mullahs and imams.  Future generations would  never forgive us.  We cannot squander our liberties.   We simply do not have the right to do so.

We have to take  the necessary action now to stop this Islamic stupidity from destroying the free world that we know.
 

Please take the  time to read and understand what is written here, please send it  to every free person that you know - it is so very  important."