Birgit Pratcher


Short Stories, Poetry

A Dream Come True

Happily I lived with my room mate and three birds in my apartment inside the old mansion. Surrounded by acres of land and plenty trees. It was nice, but, something was still missing.

When I opened up the papers one Saturday morning I knew exactly what it was that I needed to make my life complete and I decided that I had to go and get it, now!

My friend and I had been talking about to get a dog, well, I admit, I did most of the talking, but he did say that we would, one day, get one.

And, One Day had come!

All my life I had been dreaming about having a dog, a special dog, a Collie.

One of the big department stores advertised that they had a Collie puppy for sale, for a fraction of the price a Collie usually would cost, with kennel papers! Now I finally could make my dream come true!

To make sure this One Day would not be endangered, I decided to discuss the subject with my room mate upon my return from the store.

The only problem was that at those times, you could not just run to the next ATM and draw out the money you needed. For cash I had to wait until Monday. I called the store and verified that the puppy in question was still there and that they would accept personal checks.

When I arrived at the store, my heart sank. I could not see the little puppy anywhere. There were lots of other little puppies, but not one Collie. For a moment I felt as if I was falling into a deep hole.

A sales associate came my way and asked if he could help me. I told him, with little hope left in my heart that I had come for the collie puppy they had advertised in the paper.

“Oh, yes, he’s in the back, he is too big for the display cases and too wild,” he informed me.

Now, normally I would never buy a dog from a department store. I don’t think that it is the right place to keep or sell a dog, but in this case, costing only a fraction of what I would have to pay somewhere else, I overcame my silent protest and proceeded.

The young associate took me to their office, where I saw him for the very first time. A bundle that reminded more of a giraffe than a dog, a nose way to long and paws so big, with skinny legs and a long, skinny tail.

He had been tide to a table with a very short leash and looked up at me with the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen.

I hurried up to pay for the dog and the few things I needed for him, so I would get him out of there as fast as possible.

He was three months old and very shy and there were a lot of things that he was scared of. The short ten minute ride to my apartment in the back seat of my car caused him to whine and whimper in a way that could break one’s heart. I think that I actually was more relieved than the little dog when we finally arrived.

I quickly noticed that he avoided walking and was even limping. Having him cradled in my lap I checked out his legs and to my great dismay I found out that his paws had blisters from burns.

When I called the pet store to inquire about what had happened to him, I was told that it was a measure to ‘keep them calm’, which of course outraged me.

I had a lot of first aid supplies at home and took care of his paw. When I was done I put baby socks over the bandages to avoid any danger of infection.

The following Monday I took him straight to the veterinarian and had him checked out. The blisters were already healing very well, but he still was under weight. I received medication for him and a list of food supplements that would support his growth and development. In exchange I left a signed report about the blisters and where I had picked him up, so the store would be thoroughly investigated for negligence and cruelty.

It did not take long and the puppy, who had been named Gonzo, for his long nose, had found a way into our hearts and those of our friends. But, he still had a few surprises left for us.

He grew fast and picked up a lot of weight and he had a tendency to play pranks, which developed with age into his favorite pass time.

So far he had not paid a lot of attention to the birds and I had no reason to worry.

One day Quax had been throwing stuff at him all day, nuts, toys, ink pens, whatever his little beak could pick up and throw. Vulture and Rock supporting him the best they could.

Gonzo barely eve looked at him.

Finally Quax started flying through the room, two, three rounds and then he started to descend in is flight, barely missing the dog’s head.

Now he had his attention. Gonzo, still young, but big with a big mouth and long, strong teeth. He got up and watched the bird as it landed on top of the cage and took off again, descending, taking aim and flying right through the space between Gonzo’s ears. And again and again.

And then, my heart stopped! Gonzo raised his head and --opened his mouth, catching my precious bird in mid-flight.

I was frozen, time had stopped, and the world around me had seized to exist. In horror and disbelieve I stared at my dog and while I watched, he walked toward me. I held out my hands and he carefully dropped the bird into my hands.

I had tears running down my face, my legs were shaking and I had to sit down. The little bird in my hand was not even wet!

Gonzo had grabbed him so carefully and gentle that he had not even left spittle on him.

Curious he was standing in front of me, studying the bird, his head tilted, his ears pricked and his tail wagging.

In that moment I had the feeling that this dog was more than just a dog, he had a special heart, a special love for all living creatures.

Gonzo and Quax bonded so well that they spent hours playing together, often Quax would sit on the dogs head and ‘catch a ride’.

My dream had come true; I had a Collie, a very special one. How little did I know how caring he could be!

Months had gone bye and not too much out of the ordinary happened. Gonzo was my steady companion and had made a lot of friends.

We were outside the giant mansion in the huge yard, playing and enjoying the wonderful day when, suddenly, Gonzo dashed off, barking. I wondered what had gotten into him and followed him. Before I could catch up with him, he came back out of a set of thick bushes, holding something in his mouth.

Excited he came to me, wagging his tail proudly. I held out my hand and received a pigeon! He had found the young bird with a broken wing. He must have heard the desperate cries of the hurt bird and reacted on it.

Carefully I took the bird inside the house, where I found a box that could be it’s home until the wing was healed. Not once did Gonzo stop watching the bird while I was busy putting soft towels in the box.

After the bird was securely in the box I called up a friend, who was a veterinarian. He told me to come right over so he could have a look at the bird.

Of course Gonzo had to come along. He would have been heartbroken if I would have left him behind. Just like a protective mother he watched over every move while my friend took care of the bird.

For two weeks the bird stayed with us, my room mate, Gonzo and I nursed it back to health very successfully. Then we let it back into the yard. While it was happy to be free again, it still came around a lot and was not afraid of us or the dog.

Over the years Gonzo brought home a lot of animals he had found, either lost or hurt, and expected us to take care of them. Later we moved into an empty apartment in the house of a veterinarian, which made it easier to take care of all the animals he brought along.



By Birgit and Roger Pratcher

Authors on Author’s Den

Copyright © January 2006


The Knight and The Owls



The wise knight had posted his message and leaned back in his chair, his mind pondering on the possibilities of predators out there in his King’s land. And while he was thinking, a soft, fluttering sound disturbed him. He turned around in his chair and there, on the mantel of his fireplace, calm and almost unreal, a white owl was sitting, looking at him, not making sound, quiet, observing.

But before he could figure out how it had gotten there, another noise disturbed the perfect silence. He turned and, much to his surprise, another owl, darker than the first one, was sitting on top of the old grandfather clock. It spread it’s wings and folded them back in.

He turned to look back at the first owl and it seemed as if those ancient , clear, eyes looked right into his soul, not once blinking.

Slowly he turned back to the other owl, but it was gone, only one feather was slowly falling to the ground, resting finally on the lush carpet of his room. He turned back toward the first owl, opening his mouth to say something, but she too, was gone. Instead, a single rose was laying on the mantel.

Behind him the curtains softly waved in the mild breeze that came through the window.

He picked up the feather and the rose and, holding both of them in his hands, he looked out the window, into the golden afternoon. From far away he could hear a soft laughter, but then again, it could have been the rustle of the trees or the murmur of the river…


© Birgit and Roger Pratcher

January 2006


An Ancient Love Tale

Aphrodite was her name,

Men and love were her favorite game

Gave birth to many children of love

Received by lovers many

Could not recall them all, if any

One of the children was her favorite one

Cupid was his name; he was the most handsome son

Aphrodite was a Goddess with many emotions

Which she seldom controlled in all her motions

When a King’s daughter was worshipped and loved

For her beauty so fair,

Aphrodite decided with a snare

To punish the child so innocent and humble

By having her married to the land’s worst dumble

Psyche was the name of the child, so beautiful and humble indeed,

Never understood for all the attention the need.

The goddess sent out her son Cupid with the task

He knew better than for her motives to ask

When he laid his eyes on the beautiful girl

His conscious stirred, his heart began to swirl

He could not punish the beauty he saw there

He decided to keep her to himself forever

As his secretly devoted wife in a hideout

Deep in the woods, no one knew about,

He built her a palace and only visited after dark

Making her think that he was ugly as an old tree’s bark

For years they lived happy in the dark and by night

Never one of them started a quarrel or fight

Until one day psyche the beauty was sick and longing for

Her sisters and family and friends and more

So Cupid allowed for her sisters to come and see

That she loved this life on her own will, free

His beloved while he was gone out

Jealous they were and therefore did shout

He is a danger, you need to get out!

The next night they met, she waited for him to sleep

So undisturbed, happy and deep

And turned on the light to see

What kind of ugly danger he could be

But then she could tell by his gentle face

Full of beauty and grace

That he was a god, the king of her heart

But the word was out, she had not been smart

Aphrodite had her abducted and the very next day

Held her a prisoner, like a slave I dare say

While Cupid was searching high and low and under

The shrub, trees and blunder

For his beloved wife who he missed

The one who so dearly he always had kissed

In the end he asked the Godfather Zeus to help out

Which he did because the young God was so distraught

Aphrodite gave in and decided at last

She should just love young Psyche and cast

A spell of everlasting love for her son

And his beautiful bride, whose happiness now begun

Forgiven the sin of her beauty and the attention it will draw

A devoted wife and daughter in law

Psyche became and lived happy without shame

As a God’s wife, like a Goddess the same.


By Birgit and Roger Pratcher

Authors on Author’s Den

Copyright © February 2006

More Poetry

Of course we do not only love our adorable daughters, our wonderful sons are equally loved. Therefore, here is to them:  

My Boys

Strong as a Viking, tall as a tree

Are my sons, all three.

So different from each other, each one

And still I can see, one by one, he is my son.

Smart and witty, tough and yet gentle

Caring and loving, proud and humble

Perfect to me all the time

And I am indeed proud they are mine

Handsome and bright, careful and daring,

Different features is each of them wearing.

Personalities unique and strong, no two are the same

But none of them to me ever brings shame

Robin, Marcel and Roggie their names,

Together we played many games,

Shared lot of times, preparing them

For love, compassion and care, life’s greatest gem.

Just like three musketeers

They have a bond that beats all fears

A bond of love, so strong that it makes me recall

The wonderful phrase: All for one and one for all

I love those guys, all in one and one in all

Whenever I could I tried to catch their fall,

From little babies they grew to men so great,

Until I see them I can never wait

The best part of it is

That I too, enjoy their loving bliss

As beloved mother and trusted friend

I pray, please God, let this never end!


By Birgit and Roger Pratcher

One happy Mom and one happy Dad

Authors on Author’s Den

Copyright © January 2006


This one was written for Eric, with lots of love! (He knew he had it coming...)

Strawberry Delight

He licks his lips and closes his eyes

Willing for his desire to pay ther price

Dreaming of the sweet fruity taste

Now he runs, grabs the key in a haste

Is out the door, on his way in a rush

If now you ask where to, he will blush

The store comes closer, draws near

For him it's as if the angels choir he can hear

There on the shelf, not far away

That's where they are, he knows the way

But when he reaches out to grab and snatch

The frozen good from the wonderful patch

They're gone, they are not there

He can't find them anywhere

He looks around in much distress, almost pain

Just one container he needs to gain

He asks the clerk and the cashier

Sorry, we don't have them here

His head hangs sad and low

Home, without the treasure he must go

And there I stand with a smirk and wink my eye

The very last pack was my pleasure to buy

He takes them, holds them tight

His eyes with happiness shining bright,

Before he eats his strawberry delight.

© Birgit and Roger Pratcher, February 2006





Slinky, our charming little friend



Slinky, the incredible baby cat

Born in the wild to a moms regret

Out of all the little kittens that mom had

Slinky is the only one who made the survival list, how sad

Birgit’s funniest cat, he was amazing,

to our astonishment even he had persuasion

Milk and Honey Birgit put in a bowl, not too cold

Made slinky meow an approval so bold

We watched him as he matured from a baby kitten

To a handsome tom-cat, oh so smitten

Filled Birgit’s heart with Joy,

Just like when she was a baby girl with a toy

She was always happy when Slinky came around

But doing our travels we had to leave town

Now Slinky’s faith is out of our hands, that’s tough

But we know he is being taken care of forever

So very well by another animal lover


Roger and Birgit Pratcher

Authors on Authors Den

Copyright © April 2006

More Animalic Stuff

My Good Friend   Gonzo


In his brown eyes I see only love

Often wondered if he was sent from heaven above

He never let me down or hurt me

He is by my side, loving me so freely

He never lies or cheats

For me his great heart beats

He wags his tail when I walk in the room

When I leave him alone, he sits in gloom

My very best friend from day one

That’s my dog, together we are so strong

His shiny fur coat, daily I brush

When we go for our walk, we never rush

He plays and he runs, he sniffs and he jumps

He has fun when we’re out

He lays by my feet or has his head on my lap

When we relax at home or take a nap

He will protect me when he must, no doubt

Friendship and love is what my dog is all about

By Birgit and Roger Pratcher

Authors on Authors Den

© April 2006







More Prose and Poetry

Touched By an Angel


Slowly the gates open, without a sound

And then I get a glimpse of the depth of your heart

From there so ever slowly it unfolds

This human mystery, fragile and yet strong

And then there it is, for me to see, in all it’s beauty

Your soul!

Since the moment that I could see into your heart and soul

I am swept away in awe

Nothing have I ever seen and felt

So pure and beautiful, so strong and yet so frail

Filled with so much love, flowing over with it

And then the overflow reaches, each and everyone you

Ever touch, each and every one who’s path you cross.

It has touched me, my heart and soul and it has changed the

Way I feel, the way I think.

I now can feel my soul to fill with love and then I let it overflow,

Dripping out this love, ever so slow

Traveling in front of me, finding those in need

And as I am still wondering what has happened to me

I give, so free and willingly from all this love

And there I can see that in my little corner, all by myself

I have changed the world, just one tiny bit.

And from there I keep on moving, going forward, step by step

And give from all the love that you have shown to me

And give from all the love that you passed on to me

And give, day in day out, and never have I less

The love it keeps on going and growing

And I feel so free and happy now, just from that glimpse I had

Into your heart and soul.

And I don’t even know your name, but I love you all the same

By Birgit and Roger Pratcher

Authors on Authors Den

© May 2006

Create a Free Website