For those of you who might be interested in knowing a little more about me. I' been wring articles for an online publisher that I really like, none of which have anything to do with network marketing. One is quite personal and tells alot I think about who I am and where I'm from. I hope you take the time to have a look at.....
Hmmm, I think I pasted the link, if you dont want to leave blogger, I'll put one of the favorite stories my readers have liked here......Sabrina to the rescue
I grew up in Australia, there were seven of us altogether including a very big and fluffy family member, (cause she was much more than just a dog to us) her name was Sabrina. She was an Old English Sheepdog, a very unusual breed in Australia. We had lost her for a while, I remember, she was stolen and kept in unimaginable conditions. Bred with only the only the dollar value of her offspring on her captors mind. It was nothing less than a miracle when one day my mother drove into a gas station to fill up and and on her way to the bathroom, noticed a dog chained in the back.
'That looks like Sabrina' she thought and went to investigate. Indeed, it was her, my mother knew right away! She came back to the car with tears in her eyes saying nothing as she reached for her toolbox; my mother was a seamstress. She took a pair of scissors from her case and walked behind the building, when she returned Sabrina was limping beside her, my mother opened the back of our station wagon and Sabrina jumped in. We learned later that she had be been chained out the back of that gas station for over a year, bred for her puppies and in her desperation to get away her coat had become entangled in the chain and had remained that way for over a year.
When my mother came upon her upon that day and literally cut away the chain from her back, another and very different, unbreakable chain of loyalty began. Sabrina recovered from her ordeal and became an indispensable beacon to our family. My younger sister was born not long after we recovered Sabrina. Unfortunately she was born deaf and with only 15% sight, she was our own little Helen Keller. Regardless of that fact, she was a mischief maker, still like any other child, wanting to explore all that was around her!
There are the times I remember Sabrina holding on to the hem of my sister's dress, pulling her back from our front gate which led to a busy road. And yet another time where, my sister had hidden in the crawl space under the house. No-one could find her, we were all petrified! She was missing.... Till I noticed, Sabrina, trying to tell us by laying beside the area where my sister had crawled to under the house. Sabrina sat at the baseboards and wouldn't move from exactly where my sister was finally located by the fire-brigade later that afternoon.
In March 1984 we prepared for a long journey - a road-trip, a long anticipated holiday coupled in a reunion for my father to reunite with one of his Vietnam War buddies. Incidentally, his daughter suffered the same fate as my sister, a genetic result of Agent Orange. Sabrina seemed listless and worried, so unlike her, she was always so attentive. Always so compliant, she refused to get in the car the day she was to be dropped off to the Kennel. Somehow, she knew.
The day after we left Melbourne upon that road trip to Queensland, my Mother, Father and Sisters were all killed in a car crash and within 3 days of that Sabrina died too from a heart attack at the kennel. It was hard to see in the initial shock of what seems such a horrific event, that loyalty transcends even the 'idea' of death.
To this day, it is Sabrina whom I believe as I cross that river from life into the after-life, will be the one who comes running first in her HUGE, fluffy, awkward gate to be the first to greet and overwhelm me, as I come home, just as she did every day as I came home from school in my childhood.
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I grew up in Australia, there were seven of us altogether including a very big and fluffy family member, (cause she was much more than just a dog to us) her name was Sabrina. She was an Old English Sheepdog, a very unusual breed in Australia. We had lost her for a while, I remember, she was stolen and kept in unimaginable conditions. Bred with only the only the dollar value of her offspring on her captors mind. It was nothing less than a miracle when one day my mother drove into a gas station to fill up and and on her way to the bathroom, noticed a dog chained in the back.
'That looks like Sabrina' she thought and went to investigate. Indeed, it was her, my mother knew right away! She came back to the car with tears in her eyes saying nothing as she reached for her toolbox; my mother was a seamstress. She took a pair of scissors from her case and walked behind the building, when she returned Sabrina was limping beside her, my mother opened the back of our station wagon and Sabrina jumped in. We learned later that she had be been chained out the back of that gas station for over a year, bred for her puppies and in her desperation to get away her coat had become entangled in the chain and had remained that way for over a year.
When my mother came upon her upon that day and literally cut away the chain from her back, another and very different, unbreakable chain of loyalty began. Sabrina recovered from her ordeal and became an indispensable beacon to our family. My younger sister was born not long after we recovered Sabrina. Unfortunately she was born deaf and with only 15% sight, she was our own little Helen Keller. Regardless of that fact, she was a mischief maker, still like any other child, wanting to explore all that was around her!
There are the times I remember Sabrina holding on to the hem of my sister's dress, pulling her back from our front gate which led to a busy road. And yet another time where, my sister had hidden in the crawl space under the house. No-one could find her, we were all petrified! She was missing.... Till I noticed, Sabrina, trying to tell us by laying beside the area where my sister had crawled to under the house. Sabrina sat at the baseboards and wouldn't move from exactly where my sister was finally located by the fire-brigade later that afternoon.
In March 1984 we prepared for a long journey - a road-trip, a long anticipated holiday coupled in a reunion for my father to reunite with one of his Vietnam War buddies. Incidentally, his daughter suffered the same fate as my sister, a genetic result of Agent Orange. Sabrina seemed listless and worried, so unlike her, she was always so attentive. Always so compliant, she refused to get in the car the day she was to be dropped off to the Kennel. Somehow, she knew.
The day after we left Melbourne upon that road trip to Queensland, my Mother, Father and Sisters were all killed in a car crash and within 3 days of that Sabrina died too from a heart attack at the kennel. It was hard to see in the initial shock of what seems such a horrific event, that loyalty transcends even the 'idea' of death.
To this day, it is Sabrina whom I believe as I cross that river from life into the after-life, will be the one who comes running first in her HUGE, fluffy, awkward gate to be the first to greet and overwhelm me, as I come home, just as she did every day as I came home from school in my childhood.
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