I get to see folks every day at their weakest and their worst. At times I get a smile and wonder why they fuss and curse.
I take each call with a little hope that one can make a dent. This so called “job” doesn’t come with fancy perks or benefits.
This gun and badge can vouch for all the debt I owe—and more. You best not question me, my friend, because this is what I know.
My honor and integrity are worn with pride like the shield upon my chest. If you want to go to war with the beast inside this vest, you best make peace with your maker, son, and let mama call the rest.
‘Cause this sheepdog won’t back down, tuck tail or run away. I’ll bare my teeth and charge full speed at the wolves that come my way. The sheep I guard don’t always sing and praise me by my name. Most times they like to cuss and swear and take my name in vain. But don’t worry, son, this old dog ain’t scared and don’t mind a fight or brawl. Instead, I throw on this coat of arms and stand up straight and tall.
They call me a sheepdog—strong, fierce, tried and true.
Herding sheep just like you—keeping those wolves at bay. No matter what evil lurks or what terror finds its way, I will always bring my full weight to bear with steely eyes and confidence. I will always bring them fear and dread when called out of my bed. And they will know I am a sheepdog—hunting, running and ready for work.
So when that wolf does comes a-knocking at your door, that call will bring a sheepdog or two—and maybe a whole lot more.
Remember: We take pride in these suits of armor disguised in polyester blend, we bleed blood red just like you but we promise to defend. Just like the fearless sheepdog that’s loyal, trained and vigilant.
Our duty calls and our brethren fall, but our determination stands. Just turn us loose and watch the wolves go scattering for the dark. We will not stop as we faithfully pursue that pack for hours without end. But count on this dear sheep as you rest wearily in your beds. There are sheepdogs protecting your streets right now without a pat upon their heads. So curse the wolves and smile at the sheepdogs that pass you by. Without their devotion and sacrifice, your peace and freedom would not hold. We do not expect to reap reward or get your thanks each day. It is God that we implore to bless all sheepdogs everywhere.
And by the way, I am a sheepdog through and through. If you cross me, you may rest assured that I’m coming after you. I am a sheepdog—strong, fierce, tried and true.
My boots are black. My coat is blue. My shield is my name tag. My armor is soft and, like my teeth, remains hidden from your view.
But make no mistake our bark is just as loud, as our bite is fierce and strong. And our fur will fly when called to arms to guard you one and all.
There is no nobler creature than the protector of the flock: a modern knight, a warrior, a sheepdog with a Glock.