Tom, the "gentleman dog"

[4Tom]

Tom, the gentleman dog
By Virginia A. Garlen
Reprinted with permission from “The Midnight Writer,” a column published in The Press-Sentinel, Jesup, GA (May, 1994)

Early in the 1980’s my husband and I bought 50 Angus/Holstein calves from a dairy farm. My job was to feed them with giant baby bottles, and then with buckets of formula. I was, for all practical purposes, their mother.

Six months into this project, it became apparent that one human female could not control 50 200 pound calves on her own. It seemed the perfect time to get an assistant, and I knew exactly what I needed.

A quick look in the state farm paper netted the name of a near-by breeder, and we were on our way to buy a Border Collie. Soon we were looking at a writhing mass of black and white—barking, jumping and obviously anxious to be let out.
At the rear of the pack was a small, wiry black dog with a sharp, pointed nose. He hung back from the others, and had to be urged out of the pen by the trainer.

“We don’t want that one,” I heard myself say to the trainer. But somehow, we found ourselves riding home with that very dog shivering in the floorboard of the truck.

He turned out to be a most excellent dog. His goal in life was to please, and he worked hard at it. When he discovered that we wanted the calves penned for feeding, he penned them with no human help—while keeping those already penned from coming out of the open gate. Of course, there was a slight communication problem. He sometimes penned them on his own, and we would look out to find a dozen or so calves who should be grazing instead being kept carefully penned up by Tom!

He never grew to be a large dog. He was narrow in the chest and walked with the slink of a wolf. He was not a beautiful dog. But he knew his business, and he worked at it happily. His black coat and white shirt-front made him look as though he wore a permanent tuxedo, and his perfect manners inspired my father-in-law to dub him “the gentleman dog.” He lived for praise, and would rather have been petted than fed.

I took him to town once in the back of the farm pickup. It was his first trip to a place he had never been before. An over-long stop at my Mom’s house ended with my discovery that he had tired of waiting and jumped out of the truck. We searched for three days with broken hearts. On the evening of the third day, we found him in the field 100 yards from the house. Filthy, blood-stained and almost dead, he had come as far as he could and collapsed.

During those three days he had traveled five miles over roads he had seen only once from the bed of the truck. He crossed the busiest intersection in our town, where two state highways cross. Like Lassie's classic tale, he had found his way home alone and unaided.

I wish this story had a happy ending. Several years later, when a puddle of blood appeared on the carport floor, I took Tom to the local vet and stood crying in the examining room as he told me there was little chance of saving my devoted friend.

During the last month of his life, he struggled to do his job as he had always done. Often, as I knelt pulling weeds in my flower beds, I would feel that long nose thrust between the crook of my arm. I never doubted that he knew he was dying. In those last months, I always stopped my weeding when he came to me. Patting his head, I told him over and over what a good job he had done. Somehow, I felt that was what he wanted to hear most.

What I could not bring myself to tell him, and what it is painful for me to admit even now—is that I could have saved his life. In those days, collies were not given monthly heartworm preventatives. I did not do my part in consistently administering the daily doses he should have had. There was a long list of excuses, but none of those excuses could have saved Tom.

The small part I play in rescue, and my work with local shelters and Paws4Vets, is my way of making some small retribution for an act of neglect that I can not undo. And so it is, that when you see me on the Rescue Boards, you will know that I am there “For Tom.”

[bordercollies_4ever]

Tom knew you loved him and he has forgiven you. You have made up for it by all the good deeds you have done in his honor. There will never be another Tom - just as there will never be another Lexie. We can look the rest of our lives for them and never find them. We do what we do because of our love for these beautiful and loving dogs that were so close to our hearts and now are waiting at the Bridge for us. I thank God for the time I had with my Lexie and cherish the memories in my heart as I know you do. Maybe one day Tuck will become a gentleman dog (to the best of his ability - Maybe????). He has flourished under your care and I am so proud of him and you for what you have done with him. I am so glad you adopted him from me. I would have never had your friendship and be your partner in crime (so to speak - we have never done anything illegal - just withheld information for a little while).
What a great story - I know where your daughter gets her writing ability from.
Granny 2

[BustopherJones]

Of all sad words of tongue and pen,
the saddest are, "It might have been."

If people did not make mistakes, God would not have put erasers on pencils. The measure of character is not whether we make mistakes, but what we learn from them, and how they affect our future actions.

[kgunther]

What a beautiful tribute to a very special dog. I have no doubt that Tom appreciated every moment of his life with you and had no regrets. And I am sure he is grateful for the wonderful work you continue to do in his honor. Thank you so much for sharing his story with us.

Kristy

[joe]

After reading that this early in the morning I find myself at a complete loss for words. So I will just say Tom will be in your heart and alive in your memories always.
RIP Tom, run free at the bridge.

[in2adventure]

Of all sad words of tongue and pen,
the saddest are, "It might have been."

If people did not make mistakes, God would not have put erasers on pencils. The measure of character is not whether we make mistakes, but what we learn from them, and how they affect our future actions.

Very well said Bustopher. RIP Gentleman Tom.

[4Tom]

Thanks for all of the kind words. Yes, I still cry about him all these years later. As all of you know, like your children, each dog occupies a special place in his owner's heart. I am so happy to have Tasha and Tuck, and all of the fosters who cross my path in one way or another. Without Carole(BC4ever), and all of you, I would have missed the joy each of them gives me today.

[BustopherJones]

First, Virginia, allow me to apologize. I am new to the board, and did not realize that Tom was yours; I saw the reprint, and thought it was a cross-posting. Had I known that Tom was your peronsal "heart dog", I would have been a bit more sensitive, and less matter-of-fact, in my post. Those who know me from other boards know that I try to post a poem of comfort when a fellow dog owner loses a loved one. I lost my "heart dog" last year, and this is the tribute I posted for her; I normally post it only when someone loses his/her true "heart dog". I hope it brings you some comfort as well.

So this is where we part, my friend,
And you'll run on, around the bend,
Gone from sight, but not from mind,
New pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on. I'll find the strength.
Life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
Share one last look, before I grieve.

There were others, that much is true,
But they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
Will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
The fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
Take this with you....I loved you best.

-- Author Unknown

[4Tom]

Take this with you....I loved you best.

-- Author Unknown

How true. Thank you for sharing the poem, and no offense was taken from your original post. BTW, I love your board name. I took my girls to Atlanta to see "Cats" at The Fox Theater. Their names and attributes remain part of family conversation to this day. My daughters have both read the original poetry--I am afraid I just settled for the play...

[Samismom]

It is obvious that you were blessed to have had Tom in your life. Hold tight to the good memories there is little enough time in life to enjoy them. Those that go before us wish that for those they love.

[jjean]

You were so blessed to have Tom in your life.
RIP Tom

[ewenityfarm]

Well., I just couldnt stop reading and I couldnt put the Kleenex down. Yes ,you will always cry over his loss, and laugh about the good times and antics. You will never forget your heart dog, and he will be with you always, in every kind word and gesture, every pat on the head or stroke on the back to a poor dog in need of a friend, they all know and you know, it is indeed for Tom. Such a beautiful story and an honor and tribute to the "gentleman"

[Wayfaring]

This post needs a special "Tissues" warning. I had to go hug Zio.