Thank you very much for the information, Mupsy.
Yes, we have also lots of abandoned dogs in shelters.
I don’t know how many are put down. I guess there would be quite a lot.
Most of our dogs have been adopted by us, so to speak.
If I want a third dog, I’ll let you know.
But I think two is a nice even number.
OOOh Mups! Liar, Liar, pants on fire - you know you wouldn’t part with any of them!
Hah 
You know me too well, Tabs.
But Mups, I thought Gertie was going to Mags, Naughty Nellie was coming to me, you have promised Ploppy 2 for the price of one ( so I assumed that Izzy & Liffey were going to Australia ) and I assumed that you were going to keep doggy Mups.
Did I get that wrong?:surprised: 
One more naughty trick they play on me, and I’ve told 'em, that is exactly what’s going to happen to them, Twink.
I’m watching you . . . .
(Little Gertie). 
She looks like she’s been beaten daily! :roll:
My lovely kind, gentle, Izzy.
Lovely, Mups, just lovely!
What lovely gentle looking faces they have, especially (my) Gertie
Mups I think Izzy is lovely. Can I have both her & naughty Nellie, because I will need a gentle one to calm me down when Nellie is very naughty? 
Gertie looks like a little snowball in the last pic of her - has she just had a bath, Mups?
Thank you again, ladies.
You can see why I love 'em, can’t you. 
Mags, Gertie had a bath just before she was poorly, but I will have to give her another one sometime this week, as she needs a haircut again.
She looks rather like a mobile pom-pom dashing about at the mo.
Her hair is unbelievably soft, perfect for cuddling. 
Twink, sorry, there’s only room in the box for Nellie. 
I told Murtagh about Naughty Nellie and he said ‘Pah! Call that naughty, I bet I could teach her some new tricks’ :shock:
I don’t disbelieve him. 
Hah. He’s a good lad.
Keep you on your toes.
Mups, Your dogs look lovely in the pics. I hope that Gertie is ok now. She doesn’t half give you some scares!
I wish you and the others wouldn’t put pics up of your beautiful dogs…as l am hovering at the moment to get another dog!
While we are onto dogs, I was a shepherd on a farm in Hawkes Bay for 3 years before I got back into winemaking but I couldn’t have functioned without this guy on the back.
The Dog
You may not see me often as I ride around my sheep
The hills are hard and savage and the bloody things are steep.
I find a seep, a boggy patch and tell my horse to go
But he is being stubborn - in his minds eye he says ,”No!”
We struggle some, then I get off and lead him to the place
One step and I am knee deep , then flat upon my face.
I look up to his patient face as he stands up and dry,
While I gaze wet and miserable into a leaden sky.
Back aboard my saddle I let him show me where
The best place to approach and then to get us there.
My silent heading Dog looks up as if to ask the Lord
Where did he get this useless boss who cannot find a ford.
We reach the ridge and Dog has seen a ewe that’s having trouble
He looks at me and sighs and rounds her up quick double,
He eyes her still and I’m supposed to creep up to her with skill,
Assist the lamb to join the world and help him get his fill.
The Dog is thirteen years of age, I lack his expertise
To do the job as well as he, as I fumble on my knees.
For three years Dog encouraged me, and tried to help me learn
But he was aging fast, you see and I had years to burn.
At last his sight was giving in, but agile still and keen
He’d run into a tree or fence his dim eyes hadn’t seen.
I couldn’t leave him left behind when other dogs I ran
He loved the run, the company, the knowledge that he can.
I shot that Dog one evening. Under the kanuka tree
Gave him fillet steak , his favourite , set his spirit free.
I stroked his old grey head before he died under my hand,
Owed him that, I did , a friend , fellow worker on the land.
The tears rolled down my cheeks as I sighted between his eyes
The shot thundered, he twitched a bit, became silent bye and bye
I buried him with care and thought, beneath that tree so old
Wrapped in a blanket bright to keep him from the cold.
I made a token to mark the ground that was his place of rest
I knew without a doubt that he was one of nature’s best.
I sat for hours beside his grave , that starry moonlit night
And watched a meteor flash past and thought, “an omen!” right!
Oh Ciderman, that made me cry.
How very meaningful but so sad.
Are they your own words?
I had a lump in my throat reading your poem, Ciderman, it was so sad 
It still makes me sad! He was a real ‘person’.
Gosh Ciderman, I can hardly type for tears