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The Little Yellow Dog.

Thursday, January 5, 2017 0:12
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(Before It's News)

In October we lost our little yellow dog.  She was 14 years old.  We loved her to death and I wanted her to be buried at the nursery, Near the Donkeys.  We bought her a grave marker and I had a sign made that hangs on the fence by her grave.  I’ll post a photo in the spring.

But first, a word of thanks.

Actually a “HUGE” thank you to Tim Berrier.

In August of this year we had our Annual Backyard Growers Shindig at Our Nursery and of course it was a blast, lots of people showed up.  Two of our guests that day were Tim and Patty (“Cookie”) Berrier from Pennsylvania.  Actually, I gave Patty that nickname at the shindig and it seems to have stuck.  Kind of a long story.

Mike and Pam McGroarty with Tim and Patty Berrier.

Mike and Pam McGroarty with Tim and Patty Berrier.

During the shindig Tim is walking around with his camera snapping all kinds of photos as were many people.  But a few weeks later when Tim found out that we lost Ally he sent me a bunch of photos that he her took of her that day.  Which is amazing because she really didn’t like getting her picture taken and usually turned her head away when I tried.  He captured some amazing photos!

Sorry, this is getting hard to write.  Which is why I waited so long to do this post.

What he really captured was a huge piece of my heart.

So with more thanks than you can ever imagine Timothy, here are your photos along with a tribute our “Little Yellow Dog”.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The sign by her grave reads . . .

Here lies the little yellow dog . . .

Before we bought this property she lived a life of sub-division doldrums.  Paved roads, concrete sidewalks, perfectly manicured lawns, underground fence, big fluffy pillows on a giant bed in a climate controlled house.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

But here?

Here she was an adventurer, an explorer and a hunter.  She climbed dirt piles, rock piles, log piles and the manure pile.  She was here the day the first shovel of dirt was turned.  She was here as every square foot of land was cleared.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

She was here when we made cuttings, when we potted plants and she was front and center greeting customers at every plant sale.

She loved “going to work” and hated it on the rare occasions that I left her home.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

Many times I had to bathe her before I took home, else we’d both be in trouble.

She was by my side as I built the donkey house and as every fence post went into the ground.

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

She was here the day the donkeys arrived.  Just babies, only three months old and afraid.  She comforted them, told them it would be okay, told them that this place was awesome!

The Little Yellow Dog.

The Little Yellow Dog.

On really cold days, she slept on the front seat of the truck, heater on, motor running.  On really hot days, even though she didn’t like getting wet, I’d catch her slowly walking through the sprinklers just to get cooled off.

Mike McGroarty and The Little Yellow Dog.

Mike McGroarty and The Little Yellow Dog.

After work she loved riding in the Jeep.  Hanging over the side, ears blowing in the wind.

Ally the Nursery Dog!

Ally the Nursery Dog!

We loved her to the moon and back and she loved us more.

Ally, you will forever be in our hearts.

Ally, by my side as always.

Ally, by my side as always.

Tim and Patty, thank you so much!

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  • I know the feeling ! I have a pack of small terriers just like the “Little Yellow Dog” and I’ve raised , rescued and had to say my final goodbye’s to a number of others throughout my life . They are and have been GREAT little pals (even though they are extremely mischievous and have WAY more energy than I can keep up with) !!! Dogs are Gods gift to mankind and I hope that each and every one of mine is going to be waiting for me in the afterlife someday just as the “Little Yellow Dog” will be for you .

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