poem by Jewel McDonald
It was the weight pulls for IWPA
And the dogs and handlers were ready that day.
Who could pull the most, we were there to see.
And some claimed to know who that dog might be.
The competition was tuff, a worthy lot.
Pulling hard and fast, giving all they got.
Ron and Moses were competitors there
Both strong and handsome, a notable pair.
Moses the mastiff, was the strongest of all,
Weighing 200 lbs., 32 inches tall.
Debra his co-owner, was standing by the ring side,
While Ron checked the load, to which Moses was tied.
Then away from the dog, Ron jumped away clear.
The crowd stood up, and started to cheer.
6900 lbs., was the weight on the cart.
Moses pulled his best, with all his heart.
It seemed as if time, was suspended in air.
And a roar rose up, from all who was there.
Inch by inch the load moved down the track.
With muscles straining, from shoulder to back.
Moses pulled and pulled, with all his might.
Never thinking once to give up the fight.
Slowly and surly, the load made its way.
Until they crossed the line, on that memorable day.
The memory of that day will live on in glory.
And be spoken of, in poetry and story.
In loving memory of Ron Overgaard. Who co Owned Moses with Deb Shook of Black Stone Mastiffs. Ron and Moses were the #1 top weight pull regonal Champions in 2001 and 2002 As well as International Champion in 2002 . Moses was a great sound , strond and sweet mastiff and pulled a massive 6900 pounds.
Ron passed way
In the year 2002 and Moses passed away 2005
Sharon Medforth island west mastiffs
TO MY MAN AND MY MASTIFF
I love the velvet fir under your nose,
The way you clean between your toes.
I love the gentle look in your eyes.
And how you never tell me lies.
I love the steady rhythm of your snore,
And how you push me to the floor.
I love the slope of your shoulders,
Muscular and strong.
And how you cry when
I'm gone to long.
Or how you always scare the cat ,
When I've told you never, to do that
Or how you drink
,then pee on my flowers,
or chew on a bone for hours and hours .
I love how you pretend
There is no drool hanging down.
or cheer me up,
by acting the clown.
And how when you fart,
You look perplexed .
And wonder who
will take the blame next.
I love the expressive wrinkles
across your forehead.
and how you think your sneaking,
crawling into my bed.
I know Our love will
Always be .
OH what a lucky me ?
By Sharon Medforth
I stood upon the balcony of my domain , and threw the cool of the morning mist , I gazed out across the green carpeted grounds that lay before me .
My heart filled with both awe and remorse , as my eyes took in the site of my mighty mastiffs.
They stood in the morning haze looking proud and fatigued. The fluid from their most recent kill covered their bodies and dripped from their mouths . The female mastiff then lay herself down in sheer exhaustion beside the mighty and powerful male, both content and drained from the exertion of the kill . Defeat would not have been an option for such powerful animals . Their prey had no chance , for the mastiffs had learned and developed their skills in the hunt , regardless of my efforts to end their lust for needless destruction.
I am sure they felt pride in themselves , But I felt remorse, remorse for what once was and shall never be again.
Torn into pieces, its long, sleek ,serpent like shape no longer resembled its once true form. I called to my protectors and they tuned to me. Their eyes searching mine, wondering if I too would feel the pride of their kill or if they would feel the scorn of my harsh words .
They watched me closely but I did not speak , The only though that came to me was
“nuts, my husband is going to be so pissed off about another destroyed garden hose” .
By Sharon Medforth
Island west mastiff
Mastiff puppy page
During the middle years of my life, a dream came to me in the silence of the night .
A dream that has since driven me to eccentricity .
In my dream he stood tall and strong, upon the top of the bluff.
Behind him the evening sky was a pallet of dusty red and gold.
He was the most perfect mastiff that my eyes had ever seen .
I have dreamt of him many times since then.
On the eave of every litter I have whelped
Or in the middle of the day, as I watch my dogs at play .
He is my obsession.
I see his wide powerful chest and his rippling waves of thigh muscles
He has that aura about him of true royalty
The essence of mighty, yet calm strength.
His head was broad and his dark , piercing , gentle eyes, had just enough wrinkle above them
to convince you of his intelligent contemplation of life.
The slope of his shoulder was perfect ,
his back, level and sturdy.
Both bone and substance , he did not lack.
This dream mastiff is elusive.
But I have heard legend that he has for the last 100 ,
or maybe even 500 years ,
crept into the dreams of others.
Some have thought that they almost possessed him ,
yet others disagreed.
And so you see why strangers think of me as exocentric.
They wonder why I have a pack of large mastiffs in my home.
But they can not be expected to understand
That I shall dream on and breed on ,
until I have created him,
Until the perfect mastiff comes to my beckon call
And stands by my side
Until such time I will still see him as others like me have,
Only in my dreams
By Sharon Medforth Island West Mastiffs
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