Your letters make writing this column fun.

I love this magazine because I love its readers. Many of you who receive Country Lines with the name of your electric cooperative on the cover don’t realize that the same magazine has a statewide circulation of nearly 250,000 and serves many other co-ops.

What all that means to me is wonderful reader response to my columns, which I have written here for the past 24 years. Some give me heck. Some say I am full of baloney. Some give me high praise. But each is special to me because the reader turned to my byline. I learn so much from readers who write intelligent letters and an opposite point of view. For all that, I take this moment to say a big “thanks.”

Some letters put a lump in my throat. One such letter from a reader who wants to remain anonymous said he likes it when I write about dogs and he sent me his favorite dog story.

The story tells of a long vigil by an old collie named Shep. My reader reported it this way:

“On a hill at Fort Benton, overlooking the Missouri River and the Great Northern Railroad, is a statue of a collie named Shep. The statue pays tribute to an old dog, who waited patiently for a master who never returned.

“One summer day in 1936, Shep followed his master’s body to the depot where it was shipped back east for burial. Shep watched and whined as the train moved slowly out of the station.

“After days of patient waiting, Shep dug a hole under the depot and he waited there for 5-1/2 years. He never left the depot area—winter, summer, rain or shine, he met every train that came to the station. He eagerly scanned the passengers, wagging his tail in the hope that his master would return. He would check all the passengers and then search the train up and down. But that special person never got off. Head low, Shep would then return to his hole under the depot.

“In January, 1942, a train struck the old dog and killed him. The railroaders, who had kept him and fed him over the years, buried him on a nearby hill, where he could continue his vigil. They placed a spotlight at the monument, and for many years train passengers climbed the hill to view the statue.

“The train doesn’t stop at Fort Benton anymore, but the townspeople won’t let Shep be forgotten. The Fort Benton Community Improvement Association recently renovated the statue, a permanent reminder of the love and loyalty of man’s best friend.”

Another reader told of attending some high school baseball games last summer and she became discouraged by the actions of many fans. She dug out an old poem by that great author Anonymous and asked that I reprint it in the hope that some of those ugly fans might read it. The poem read:

Please don’t curse the boy down there,
He is my son you see.
He’s only just a boy, you know
He means a lot to me.

I did not raise my son, dear fan
For you to call him names.
He may not be a super star
It’s just a high school game.

So please don’t curse those boys
down there
They do the best they can,
They never tried to lose a game
They’re boys and you’re a man.

The game belongs to them, you see
You are just a guest.
They do not need a fan like you
They need the very best.

If you have nothing nice to say
Please leave the boys alone
And if you have no manners,
Why don’t you stay at home?

Please don’t curse those boys down there
Each one’s his parents’ son
Win, lose or tie, you see
To us they’re number one.

A friend of mine, also a Country Lines reader, put this question to me: “Good grief, Jim, don’t you get upset when the Country Lines editors print letters from readers that are critical of your columns?”

No. In fact, I like it for several reasons. First, it shows the integrity of the editors and this magazine. Second, it means they are reading what I write. Third, and most importantly, I learn a lot from readers who offer opinions opposite to mine and they have won me to their side on several occasions. Most readers write in the spirit of fun to give me a bad time for my many columns on my love for the Upper Peninsula, my hatred of bagpipes, and so much more tongue-in-cheek stuff under my byline.

Your letters make writing this column fun.