Chicken Soup for the Cat & Dog Lover's Soul by Jack Canfield Read Free Book Online Page A

Bobby to stay near the grave. He even taught Bobby to hide on Sundays, when the churchyard had its largest number of visitors. To the church’s high-ranking patrons, having a dog in the cemetery would have been next to blasphemy.
    For a couple of weeks Bobby kept lonely vigil, without a break, ignoring even his own needs. Then one day, at the sound of the castle gun, he showed up at the Greyfriars dining rooms. The innkeeper recognized him as Auld Jock’s dog and fed him. From that day forward, Bobby arrived at the inn every day at one o’clock to be fed.
    Once he’d gained the sexton’s friendship and found a way to get regular meals, Bobby lived by the grave of the shepherd unhindered for nine years, until 1867, when the city began to round up all unlicensed dogs. Dogcatchers nabbed Bobby and took him to Edinburgh’s version of the pound.
    When the terrier failed to answer the one o’clock gun one day, the innkeeper guessed what had happened. He rescued Bobby from being destroyed by telling the story of the faithful little dog to the city’s Burgher Court. The innkeeper’s plea brought Bobby instant fame, and none other than the Lord Provost of Edinburgh paid for the dog’s license. He even ordered a collar made with an inscription that read, “Greyfriars Bobby. From Lord Provost. 1867. Licensed.”
    Sporting his new collar, Bobby had the run of the city. Still, he held to his routine, guarding his master’s grave and dropping by for lunch at the Greyfriars every day at one. Bobby’s fame and popularity spread until he no longer had to hide from visitors—in fact, many visitors came to the cemetery just to see him. More than one artist painted the dog’s portrait as he lay near his master’s simple grave.
    In 1872, after maintaining his vigil over Auld Jock’s grave for fourteen years, Greyfriars Bobby, now old and feeble, died. The entire city mourned his death. In secret, the sexton dug Bobby a small grave near Jock’s then marked it with only a rosebush. If the church wouldn’t let dogs visit the cemetery, how could it allow a dog to be buried there?
    Upon learning about the inspiring little dog, a Scottish noblewoman, Baroness Burdett-Coutts, commissioned a work to honor Bobby, which would stand on Candle-maker Row, outside the churchyard gates. A year after Bobby’s death, city officials unveiled the monument: a solid granite column, with water from bubbling fountains that poured into two basins; and on top, a bronze likeness of Bobby which faced longingly toward the gates of the cemetery.
    At last, in the early 1930s, the church allowed American donors to erect a small stone in the Greyfriars Cemetery marking the grave of the faithful little dog. Today, when you walk inside the gates of the old cemetery, the first headstone you see pays tribute to the endurance of love beyond death. It reads:
    Greyfriars Bobby.
Died 14th Jan 1872.
Aged 16 years.
Let his loyalty & devotion
be a lesson to us all.
    Tim Jones

A Friend in Need
    Brownie and Spotty were neighbor dogs who met every day to play together. Like pairs of dogs you can find in most any neighborhood, these two loved each other and played together so often that they had worn a path through the grass of the field between their respective houses.
    One evening, Brownie’s family noticed that Brownie hadn’t returned home. They went looking for him with no success. Brownie didn’t show up the next day, and, despite their efforts to find him, by the next week he was still missing.
    Curiously, Spotty showed up at Brownie’s house alone, barking, whining and generally pestering Brownie’s human family. Busy with their own lives, they just ignored the nervous little neighbor dog.
    Finally, one morning Spotty refused to take “no” for an answer. Ted, Brownie’s owner, was steadily harassed by the furious, adamant little dog. Spotty followed Ted about, barking insistently, then darting toward a nearby empty lot and back, as if to say, “Follow me!