To Make Britain Great


This poem is written in the aftermath of this week’s decision to Leave the European Union. For the Good or Bad of our future is a simple matter of opinion on which so many are currently divided. This is a timely reminder that whether you agreed with the outcome or were against it, we have to join together to make it work.

In moments of recent uncertainty,
My thoughts are peppered with “What might be?”
Should we have chosen to remain,
Will their loss be Our gain?
“There’s Hundreds of Millions of pounds available
To spend on our resources here we’d be able.”
Did we believe the politicians lies?
They did it again, it’s no surprise.
But as they go to greater lengths
We decide to show our hidden strengths.
So instead of thinking “The end is nigh”
Remember that the limit’s the sky
Before we joined the European Union, easy to forget
That our Kingdom was once United, don’t waste time on regret.
Were once Great Britain, will be so again.
So from back where we started is where we begin.
Everyone’s worried, our future’s unknown,
As we took this decision to go it alone.
A chance to rebuild and find a new friend,
New business relations, or money to lend.
Did we cut off our nose to spite our face?
Forget that our Kingdom is of mixed race.
It’s not about colour, Black, Brown or White.
It was simply about standing up for what’s right.
To make our decisions, affecting our land
Without bureaucrats leading us by the hand.
So as we found out how the votes have been drawn,
It’s about facing the day, with the new dawn.
Making our country one of the best,
Not settling for anything less.
Creating a place where we can be free,
To live and work together, happily.
A place where children can grow,
Learning that what we reap, we sow.
As time goes on so much may change.
Lives adjust to the new and strange.
So many have fled our sinking ship,
We hope that you enjoyed your trip,
But now is not the time to gloat
An Island fighting to stay afloat.
But to those who seek to take fright,
Off to places where the future’s bright.
This is not the place to decide to desert,
Whilst you are in pain and feeling the hurt.
Left reeling from the this country’s action,
It was just a temporary reaction.
We will come back kicking with all our might
Encouragement again to our Kingdom unite.
The backbiting, name-calling is just so wrong.
If we can’t stand together how can we be strong?
When neighbours can’t be side by side,
In this place where we all reside.
So embrace your neighbours, don’t battle with words
As we work, join together ever onwards.
There’s surgeons arrived here to save our lives,
So why are kids out there fighting with knives?
There’s houses which after wars they rebuild,
So why are they are unwelcome, the clever and skilled.
The nurses who came and our wounds they tended,
Away from their families, when fighting has ended
Let this not be a time for hate
The future’s arrived, so let’s not wait.
In a new direction, we have been shown
As we step off out into the unknown
We will not destroy it, it is not too late,
To once again make this Britain Great.



It’s More than just Bad Language

The Daily Post – Struggle

Far More than just Bad Language, it’s also knowing Right from Wrong.

This post is far more than just about bad language in our society, it is about knowing right from wrong. Due to recent events in the news, where people no longer seem to know what is out of order. They have crossed that line, the one which we are taught when growing up, not to cross, when we are taught what is right and wrong and how to react. This is not about one single act of violence against innocent people going about their lives, it not just about bad language it is about Anger and Hatred in our society. My thoughts are with everyone who has suffered loss at the hands of someone else, of the people who were taken without thought, far too soon and their loved ones who are left behind.

As I ask myself and those around me, what made everyone so angry all of the time, what removed the ability to see what is right and wrong? I, like so many others am searching for the answers, this is simply my own point of view.

When did the world become so intolerant? Where children were brought up not to swear will suddenly let rip and every sentence is filled with expletives. I find it unnerving, it didn’t used to be the norm. Is it an age thing. I’m not old, so I don’t think it is. Of course there were people who swore a lot when I grew up, but they didn’t do it at everyone, they usually had to be severely provoked for the occasional swear word to escape their lips. To be fair, I came from a home where religion played a pretty large part. It was not acceptable to use these words to express your anger or frustration. I know times have changed, but it seems that so many people have forgotten that there are other words which also suffice. Apparently if you are in your twenties or so, it is perfectly normal to “let them have it with both barrels” if something displeases you in any way and in no uncertain terms. I know someone who is like this, who has what I’ll politely refer to as a “fiery temper” she was not chastised by her parents and got away with it, but not with me. As a consequence, she usually has a certain level of respect afforded for me, which she lacks in others. It is not just her though, I have noticed in the workplace, walking down the street, in stores, it makes no difference it is wherever you go. Perhaps it is as simple as that in others too, people will get away with it if you let them.

So, what made the world so incapable of articulating their anger without peppering the conversation with the F word, or worse? Ok so maybe I am a little old fashioned along with my values. As a consequence some language makes me feel uncomfortable and I guess that’s partly what I have a problem with, I don’t want to be around it so I ask myself, am I over sensitive? Don’t get me wrong, there have been more than enough times when I have wanted to let rip too, but I wasn’t brought up that way, so I have an inbuilt off switch, something that does allow me to weigh the consequences of my words and actions. Where my common sense kicks in and tells me that “This is not a good idea” and I tone it down. I still get my point across and to some people it drives them all the more mad that I am not ranting and raving about it in the process. I have worked around people who F and Blind as it used to be known. I’m not pretending to be a saint, sure, I get cross and upset, but is there really a requirement to abuse the person you are angry with over some triviality. Why do people think that shouting abuse at someone would make them more inclined to listen to your point? I have also found that this is usually done by the people who claim to be intelligent and at least have an understanding of the common language.

So have we all resorted to guttural language to get our point across and anger when we cant?
When did we become so Angry? Are the people who are getting angry, going to know the difference between the right and wrong ways to enable them to change things, or are they just fed up at not getting their own way. Will they be so inarticulate that they will be unable to get their point however valid it may, or may not be, across to the masses? Or am I so outdated in my approach that this is all the masses understand? For this has now become the norm. In moments of extreme frustration I have been known to resort to the same level, to get my point across. I am not proud of such an outburst, immediately regretting it and such behaviour usually backfires on me. I have always prided myself on a decent command of the English language that I was able to get my point across without the use of such words. Am I old fashioned that I feel offended when I see Facebook comments that are littered with such words. It is wrong that I don’t want to read them, the person who writes them might be truly upset, or they just might be venting uncontrollable anger and I don’t want to get in their way. There is no willpower, no control over their anger and where does it lead.

I am a peacemaker by nature. I don’t like conflict, I will try and diffuse a volatile situation wherever possible, dealing with my own feelings of discomfort later. I have been downtrodden by the process at times, but I will only take so much before I go into battle with my assailant. It is the curse of the millennial that nothing is good enough for them, that they are hard done by, when they do not get what they want and they feel that the world owes them better. Is it that they weren’t slapped at their outbursts, shown that it was not good behaviour to use such language and show disrespect to the people around them. When did they lose the tools to show their displeasure in normal language, or were they not taught them in the first place and if not why the hell not?

In my own home, I now swear from time to time, it isn’t pretty and it happens rarely, but not as rarely as it should. Does that make me a hypocrite? No, I don’t think so because it rarely affects anyone else, it is usually borne of frustration or physical pain. When I’m outside of the home, it is a different matter, if other people are in earshot, I am conscious of my words and getting my point across in a “grown up” manner without the use of expletives, as a consequence I’m very rarely misunderstood when something angers or upsets me. It takes a lot for me to really blow my top and I try to remain calm to get my point across, but when that just isn’t possible, you’d better watch out.

Is it about respect, not just for their elders, or lack of it?
There were simply words it was not polite or excused to use when we were growing up. You would be chastised for their use and called a fishwife, it was just not acceptable behaviour. So when did it all change? Sure there were people who swore when they got upset, but you gave them a wide berth and stayed away from them, so when and why did it become the new norm? I am curious to know what influenced it?
I don’t think that the world in general has become a worse place, it is the people within it who have made it so. A place where people think twice about bringing children into the world, because of what is going on here. The people have become far less tolerant over time. There were wars, but there have always been people who do not get along and they have fought. But there certainly seems to be more anger and hatred than there used to be and more wars, which usually seem to be brought about by greed. More and more, it seems that people resort to explosive anger and violence just to get their point across. There are too many voices and they are all shouting, so now no-one will listen, so is it down to who is shouting the loudest that will win and be heard. Did the world stop discussing things, simply because people stopped doing what they said they would do? They changed their minds and didn’t think to tell the others, thinking that they didn’t have to be held accountable for their actions any more. The world would let them away with it and it has. Where punishment for your wrongdoing is either non-existent or disregarded due to it’s lack of severity.

We are surrounded by loud mouthed abusive children, who have now grown into disrespecting adults who are incapable of doing anything, who survive on their cunning by trying to be clever and outwit the people remaining who do have a sense of right and wrong. A disposable society which does not value anything or it’s worth, just it’s price. They now grown into adults who have children of their own who are being brought up in their own image and it is getting worse!

Don’t get me wrong, Good People still exist….

I know many people who have become great parents who are teaching their children right and wrong and whose families show each other the proper respect and this continues into the outside world around them. I also speak to teachers who are dealing with the aftermath of the “no punishment” brigade and go to work every day in fear of their safety. For the abuse they will receive from their pupils and are rendered powerless by the authorities to stop it. Living on their wits, when just a stern word could cause them to lose their lives due to the weapons which are brought into schools by children and used “to teach the grown ups a lesson”. These Teachers do this job, because they live in the hope that they are making a change for the better, that if they listen to their pupils and their voices are heard, if they teach them right from wrong, then the world will become a better place. Then the marks made on society will be achievements and good, not how many people’s lives have been lost or people maimed and damaged in the process of rising to the top.

We should not accept living in a society born of fear. Where you cannot leave your home without carrying a weapon, where you cannot own something nice, for fear of someone else wanting to take it away. For people resenting what you have because you have worked for it. Wake Up World, there is still time to change this and it isn’t going to be achieved by killing people who don’t see your point of view.


The Bag for Life A Metaphor and thoughts.

IMG_1668The Bag for Life….

A metaphor indeed!
I am sure the Bag for Life, where it has all been hiding, although it won’t rock the world, might be a bit of an eye opener, well it was for me…

For this is a bag full of memories past, painful and life lessons. Happy ones along with cards and letters from loved ones and friends. My old poems, some 25 years old or more. Teenage angst and how I truly felt back then, when the world was a very different place.
Memories, French, Legal and Secretarial Coursework. An ancient CV with all of my first jobs on it. Thoughts and Contacts in a teenage address book. Another house picture I had drawn. Photos of my family.


The Bag for Life, YES it contains a hidden message. Emblazoned upon it’s front.
If only it were that simple to have bits of you replaced for free, if you are broken or damaged.


The Practice of Gratitude and How it can turn your day around.

This is How a little Gratitude can change your whole day.

Yesterday was a very grey day, and a Bank Holiday Monday. It threatened to take over the whole day smothering it with Grey when I awoke with the familiar feeling that I was tired, so tired that things ached. I did not want to crawl out of bed, but there was simply no more sleep to be had. My sister was arriving for a visit in the afternoon, she felt the same, we were both lethargic for differing reasons. We have been consciously trying to spend more time with each other lately and I hope that it is doing us both some good.
Foolishly yesterday morning I downloaded an update for my iphone and promptly thought no more of it. Now my use of the phone is limited, but I like to make use of it for photos’ social media and texts, as well as the occasional phone call of course. I merrily went on my way.

When Susie, my sister arrived we sat and spoke about all sorts of things, but mainly projects in the pipeline and what we wanted to do. I spoke about some of my own projects I want to work on some of which she has agreed to assist me with. Susie is a musician and now has new found freedom with the recent purchase of her first car. So she is widening her working area. Attending gigs further out and new experiences are opening up for her, in fact she’s consciously seeking them out, she is now following her own dream. We started to spend more time with each other so that I could help her gain more confidence out in the car, for when she hits the road for gigs up and down the country. It gives me the ideal opportunity to spend time with my younger sibling without other distractions. Some Quality Time at last. I am showing her the local countryside where we have lived for all of her life and she is seeing things with new eyes. All of these wonderful places, right here on her doorstep, but needing to get there by car, they have been limited to her up until now.

So as I try to think of interesting places to show her we jump in her car and head off.
I had a plan to show her somewhere different yesterday, but we sat indoors for most of the day, her singing and playing the guitar, talking about some of the gigs she is about to do, and the dog singing right back to her. She seemed a little surprised that he was joining in, but they soon settled into their song together.

My beloved disappeared off to see a sick friend who had just returned from hospital and we agreed to stay until he returned. He was later than anticipated and quite shaken when he came back, shocked at his friends condition. He wanted to be on his own with the dog for a walk.


So we the girls jumped in the car for a short trip out. Heading over to a local area along the river, there used to be a pub there, but it is now closed and the caravan park which borders the river has ducks. We parked up and walked through, looking at the pretty caravans and headed for the river, walking along the towpath we spotted a lot of floating markers which are washed up and decaying rather spectacularly. I wanted to take some photos of them and some of Susie, out in the open air, we had been talking about locations where she could get some new promo ones and although studio shots are great, if she thought about other places as backdrops as well she might get some interesting photos.

It was very windy, we were getting blown about in the wind and it wasn’t very warm, at least we had coats. But we began larking about, taking photos of each other and giggling, a return to kids again. There is a large gap in our ages and you could probably count on your hands the amount of times we have actually behaved like kids together, but we love each other and are alike in a lot of ways once everyone else is removed from the equation. We were just being ourselves, totally natural. Embracing our inner child and each other, with barely any make up and not in our posh clothes looking very windswept. We had fun, thoroughly enjoyed it. I am already making plans for the next time we go out.

Unfortunately the camera on my phone kept freaking out and doing strange things and I had to shut it off to do anything after that. It turns out the new update had messed with my mojo and changed all my images from jpeg to aae files, which my normal PC simply cannot cope with, so I had to fiddle with them to even see them on the laptop when we got home. Thanks for nothing, Apple, it worked just fine before that.



I loved that couple of hours with my sister though, we came home and ate dinner all together and talked some more and the fresh air had put some colour in our cheeks and smiles on our faces. Promoting our own Health and Wellness and enjoying the Nature around us.

We enjoyed ourselves, no expectations to live up to, just being sisters. For this time I am able to spend with my sister, I am grateful. We often say that we would like to spend more time together just us girls, but it took so long to happen, due to our different schedules and now we are enjoying these opportunities.

When you start to think about the small things for which you are grateful, let alone the big things, you start to look at your life and the things around you in a much more positive light. I was encouraged to look at being grateful for small things, by a lovely lady who has been an inspiration to me many times during the past year. Kristin Granger over at She posts inspiring quotes via her face book page and reminding me to look for something good in the day she also encouraged me when I told her that I wanted to write and gave me a few pointers on how to start with my blogging.

Despite a windy day, there is sunshine out there within those clouds and you only need look for it. I am Grateful for being able to see, both the wonderful things around me and my lovely sister.


On Facing our Fears.

It’s a strange thing, when you decide to face your fear.
I know that in some ways it can be a good thing, however there are times when fear itself has a firm grip and I am left feeling unready for the excursion.

My fears this particular morning, may seem be quite a simple thing to others. Yet bring such fear in myself as to bring on a panic attack of such magnitude that it sets the irritable bowel off on it’s merry way again. All that brought on by the mere thought of doing something which we feel we cannot possibly do. I do not understand how it can have such a devastating effect on us. I feel the need to berate myself for being so silly about it in the cold light of day.

Yesterday I awoke in the early hours and thought about brushing the dog, such a simple task you might think. However it is not for me. In 2012 I was attacked by 2 Dogs, the first was one which we were considering re-homing. After we had spent 2 months with him around us, settling him in as part of the family, he attacked both my Partner and I for attempting to put a lead on him to take him for a walk. It was totally unexpected, but this was something that we had not done, since his current owner had always put his lead on for him. He had been in our home during the day for several weeks, we had all walked together along with our dog regularly. I had also taken both dogs out on my own, without issue. He had stayed for the weekend and even slept on our bed. But suddenly he turned on him and bit my partner’s hand down to the bone and sunk his teeth into my thigh when I tried to split them up and get my partner out of the way to safety. Suddenly this very large cuddly puppy reacted like a monster, he was heavy and very strong and we had to rethink, although we gave him another chance other circumstances forced our decision not to take him on. A few months later, a random dog went for my one over the playing fields and again I got in the middle, to protect on this occasion my baby. It resulted in my being maimed a hospital stay and two operations. (and so much more that I won’t go into here)

So for the reasons I have already mentioned, I am now hesitant to be in with my beloved and very large dog, in a confined space for the three hours it will take me to brush his coat. Since the accident I have avoided this for as long as possible and it is simply not fair to him. He has a very long coat, with several undercoats and moults twice a year. These are major moults which shed like tumbleweed all over the house and garden. At times this has me thinking that I would rip up all the carpets, the only thing stopping me is I actually like carpet underfoot. So I have persisted with it in the house. Now that the warmer weather has definitely arrived, he is shedding his winter coat all over the place. I need to take action. I have always bathed him with my partners help, he loves water so much that it has to be a joint effort to hold him in one place for long enough. I have always brushed him myself, believing that it strengthens the bond between us. He has never been to a professional groomer and I cannot afford to take him to a professional to get him washed and brushed now. I don’t actually know how he would react at this new thing now he is five years old. He’s always been a bit funny about his bits. But I have always brushed him nevertheless. He doesn’t like it much, under sufferance, he will relent and let me brush him until he goes to sleep and then wonders why I have to continue. He is not a willing accomplice and these days I muzzle him for the duration, which is torture in itself, since he wonders what he has done before we have even started. He growls at me when he has had enough and this is why he wears the muzzle, just in case. He can look very fierce when he is growly and I find it disconcerting in a confined space, although I am Mummy and generally boss he is after all a dog and doesn’t like being cornered.

As I merely thought about brushing him, since I was due to have an afternoon where my Partner is out, I had thought it might be the ideal time. But then I felt that familiar tightness in my chest, building up to an almost insane level where I could not breathe. The pressure in my ears thudding around my head and my pulse quickening. This went on for some time and then I started to feel a numbness up my legs. I tried for a moment to change my thinking, calm thoughts but it was just too late, it seemed to have taken hold of me. After trying to kick it out of my head with meditation, I was able to calm down but for a while, the terror reigned. I lost all rational thought, a mind full of what ifs….

He is my baby and I love him so much. He wandered into the room, took one look at me and turned and left, in one look probably told him what I was thinking, it was a complete dead loss, I had no chance of brushing him that day. Thoughts of that day almost two years ago returning to me had rendered me incapable of taking care of him properly, a full blown panic attack and the stress making itself apparent in so many ways, headache, shaking sweating and an upset stomach being just a part of the experience.

I will man up and face the fear, I have to. But It might take a few attempts and I might have a half brushed dog in the meantime.

On Becoming Creative Again.


Discover Feature on Creative Habits I came across this post called “Writers and Artists on Creative Habits, Accepting Self-Doubt and the Rewards of Perserverance” the other day and found a little inspiration there.

I felt that I had something to add to this but I didn’t want to just comment upon it.  You see like most, I have struggled with my own levels of creativity over the years, and especially within the last couple of years, due to an accident and it hitting me kind of hard, it disappeared completely.  I missed my creativity so much, I wanted it back, hell I even craved it’s return so that I would feel some kind of normal again, so this is about creativity in general, in whatever form it takes for you.

I have always been one to collect things, I get that from several members of my family, along with making do and mending things, recycling etc etc.


A couple of years ago, I decided to make soap, I was trying to get away from the traditional presents for friends and family, since no-one knew what they wanted for Christmas and it might be fun to make it a home made one. Oh Kirstie Allsop, you have alot to answer for….

I looked at soap recipes, I used to buy wonderfully scented soap on trips to france, it was Marseilles Soap in gorgeous colours and the smell would carry all over the house.  You had to store it in the back of the linen cupboard though, since you’d be able to taste it otherwise. But I thought, that must be an interesting thing to do. I purchased some silicone cake moulds, to give my soaps interesting shapes, since I was going to give them away as Christmas presents and gathered all the items required to make it.  Nothing and I mean, nothing prepared me for the colossal mess that I was going to make or the time that it would take to clear up afterwards and I must admit to getting carried away with the scents.  I made about 6 different scented batches, despite following the recipe there seemed to be so much more of the mixture than I anticipated, so I spent a merry afternoon, trying to find other ingredients in the kitchen, which I could include, in case someone didn’t like the scent of one, there was another.  Of course I had to include manly scents.  All in all, I enjoyed making it…. But would advise against silicone moulds in future.  I ended up with trays of the stuff too and about 36 cup cake sized soaps, which once they had cured were quite presentable.

Back to the recycling for a moment.  I went on a wonderful Christmas holiday to Scotland and beach combing, since it was winter time and stormy there was so much washed up along the beach and I came back excited with my hoard of shells, stones, seaweed etc, in the sure knowledge that I would make something wonderful with it, when I got the chance. They are all washed and cleaned in readiness and have been stored away since our return… here is my stash ready and waiting to be turned into artwork.

I have yet to achieve that particular goal, meanwhile it is in bags and a box in my kitchen cupboard and every time I do the hoovering, I get it out put it to one side and the dog starts eyeing up the sticks with a smile.   He knows that if I do not get around to making something, then he will end up with the slightly salted sticks from the beach and is ever hopeful it will be soon.

In winter months, I buy wool and ribbons and think about making wonderful things, or re purposing tired objects to give them a new lease of life.  This last year, whilst I stocked up on those essential ribbons to wrap Christmas presents with I did not get around to doing the crafting, I still have more than enough ribbons to last me for a while.  I did not get the motivation to actually do anything with them. I have good intentions, but will I actually get on with it?


I used to make things.  for instance I have a box of beads from when I was a teenager and I used to make jewellery, also some of the items I made are in there.  Once in a while I think about doing that again, however it is one of my Mother’s hobbies to make jewellery now and she does it rather well.  I am lucky to have a very creative Mother who has presented me with some wonderful creations of hers with crystals and stones which I love to wear.  I made clothes too, knitted things and drew pictures (mainly houses).  I was quite artistic, I also made cards and planned interiors.

Last Christmas I had a creative streak once again and made decorations.  This came about since we were given a tree whilst we were on holiday and there was absolutely no-where locally where we could buy any.  It pushed me and I had to think up novel ways in which to decorate the holiday home and tree with whatever I had brought on holiday, or could find around us.  I ended up with some lovely natural decorations, it got the creative juices going and I was quite pleased with the results.

Since then I have begun writing again, my creativity has taken a new route, but it is firmly back in my life, providing inspiration in whatever small way as and when it can.  So in whatever small way you can, be creative, don’t give up on it, persevere whenever you can and you too will reap its rewards.  You might also have some rather exclusive gifts to give away to your friends as well.


This One’s for my Boy. Happy Birthday Prince of Night.

This is for someone very special who is very close to my heart and who is five years old Today, he is my furry son.  Happy Birthday Prince of Night today we will sing your Birthday song, together.

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Happy Birthday Prince of Night.

For one you’d pay a Kings Ransom,
He is so fiendishly handsome.
Five years ago I knew that he was on his way,
My baby boy was born, a call, today’s the day!
You see I’d met his parents and they’d put me on the list,
And they wanted me to have one, so offered me this gift.
He is the best present, that I ever could have wished,
I remember each morning as I’ve just been kissed.
Said that I’d be happy to act as baby sitter,
He was one of Mika and Bear’s first litter
Off I went to see them, with a skip and a dance,
Seven bundles born that day, one didn’t have a chance.
Of seven beautiful puppies, there was one poor little mite,
They lost him the next morning, he was too tired to fight.
But with Mika remained six beauties, so healthy and so strong.
I had to wait to see them, two weeks would seem too long.
With regular puppy updates,
No info I would lack.
I went there to climb the gates,
My first visit to the pack.
They were so very tiny, you could look but couldn’t touch.
Mika stood on guard there and for Bear it was all too much.
I clambered in to see him, he was all but in a muddle,
Buried hands deep in his fur, he needed a big cuddle.
I told him he had done so well,
Those kids would make him proud.
That over years time will tell,
If they could sing as loud.

The next time I was able, to see them I was met
With six furry little ones and which I’d choose, who’d bet?
On each and every visit there,
My Camera I would take
Always Hello to Mika and Bear
A record I would make.
The day that they were big enough
I ventured again to see
Sat myself upon the floor
Each puppy climbed on me.
Soon I was amass with smiles galore,
Nestled in wherever they could, with puppies on the floor.
I would have to make a choice soon,
“Sure, I’d take all six”
But reality had hit me
And a date we had to fix.
I thought I’d always wanted, a neat and tidy grey
But it wasn’t one who chose me, on that fateful day.
You see that a decision, was written in the stars,
The one that was there to love me and help me heal my scars.
There seemed to be just one there,
Who watched me as I walked.
And as I said Hello to them,
He noticed when I talked.
There were six bouncy bundles,
Three greys, three black and white
Over laps and toys they tumble,
While some will fuss and fight.
But this one stood out for me, apart from all the rest
Not the biggest of the litter, but that one, he’s the best.
While other’s went off alarming,
He was thoughtful and quiet,
He sat there looking charming,
Didn’t worry for his diet.
When I sat there with them, he was filled with curiosity,
And tumbled round the others, to come and sit with me.
For a moment regarded and thought that I might toy,
But I knew that we’d decided, that ours would be a boy.
Playing with this little lot, became the weekend game,
And as the time went by us, we decided on a name.
My suggestion to call him Kato, since it conjures up a smile
Reminding me of the films I loved, would suit him by a mile.
So at six weeks I’d ask him if he was to be the one,
A raised paw on my knee to show me that I would be his Mum.

We had to leave him there, just for a few weeks more,
Now that it was decided, I missed him all the more.
The day arrived in August, when I could pick him up,
He was the first to leave them, the bravest little pup.
I had to fill in papers, give him a kennel name,
I listened to the ones they’d chose, he’d never be the same.
I chose the one that suits him, he is now Prince of Night,
Of all the other options, it suited him just right.
So with all the toys and blankets and our puppy by my lap,
Time was up, we headed off and he began to nap.

We took him in the house, allowed him to walk and roam,
All around the place and garden, that would be his home.
I put on a new collar, it seemed so big on him,
It went round his neck, was sure it would need a trim.
Since he’d been in a kennel, with all his litter mates,
A bath with him was needed, great care with him we’d take.
I brushed him gently after wrapped him in a big soft towel,
He trusted me to love him, didn’t need to fuss or howl.

Over years he’s been here with us,
We all have learned a lot,
That he doesn’t sing for sirens,
And he’s happy with what he’s got.
He doesn’t sit there wishing,
For something that is yours,
He’s love to go off fishing,
Or running through the moors.
His favourite food is fish, but also something nice,
Is when you are making curry, he’ll have chicken and some rice.
Or if you’re cooking sausages, or offering a prawn,
But when he’s not too hungry, he’ll turn his back and yawn
Sitting by my feet, as I prepare some food,
Doesn’t beg for bit’s and pieces, that would just be rude!
He has lovely manners, will ask for things nicely.
And when you offer him a treat, he’ll skip around with glee.
As he grew older, he learned to sing and talk,
Answering my questions, always Yes to take a walk.

We dance around the garden, now the house is feeling small,
And with paws on your shoulder, he really is so tall.
He has his little nicknames, we call him Little Ted,
As morning is arriving, he’s bouncing on the bed.
Lazing about on his back, paws to face the sun,
He is so very funny and is still our little one.
In mischievous moments, he is the “Furry villain”
His best friend of all, is a Labrador called Dillon.
He’s getting kind of heavy when he sits upon your feet.
And should a visitor come to call, he’ll always race to meet.
Such character in him it catches us all out,
A cheeky moment, now and then the rules he tries to flout.
Life with all his nonsense, is certainly not boring.
But never had I thought we’d find one so adoring.

We’ll be singing “Happy Birthday,” it is his favourite song.
It’ll only take two notes to start and he will sing along.
There will be a present and something nice to eat,
We’ll take him somewhere fun, a family outing treat.
There’ll be celebrations in our house this week,
Visiting relations and his chance to speak,
He’ll skip about the garden tell them about it all,
If the weather’s sunny will play there in his pool.
Before the day arrives, we’ll treat him to a brush,
Take it nice and slowly, there’s not a need to rush.
I will brush his face, around his fluffy ears,
slowly round his breeches, do not alert his fears.
Brushing round his tummy, he’ll wriggle and he’ll whine,
And many hours later, he’ll be starting to feel fine.
As now several years later, our son is turning five,
every morning when I see him, I’m glad to be alive.
Over years we have taught him, to love and not to fight,
We found life is much simpler when things are Black and White.