One that stands out most in my mind is of my black poodle, Fella. He was my very first dog that belonged to only me and he was as smart as a whip. I was around 11 when I found him on the street, matted and abused, but he quickly got used to his new home with us.
The most special memory I have of him is when I was around 15 or 16 years old. My father and I would walk down to the elementary school down the street from us to go jogging. It was about a 10 minute walk to the park and we always took Fella with us. He loved it and looked forward to it daily.
One day I went out looking for him for our walk to the school, and he was nowhere to be found (he usually just stayed put on our front porch). So my dad and I went jogging alone that day. When we came back, there was Fella on the front porch, laying down and crying...I mean really crying, with tears running down his muzzle and whimpering like crazy. I immediately knew it was because he knew he missed out on running with us that day. Poor baby!
From that day forward, he made sure not to miss any more days of jogging with us and was at his post every day at the time we left. That memory will be etched in my brain forever.
That was a special story, sandooch! We never appreciate how loyal our dogs are to us. And, we don't give them credit for feeling emotions.
One memory that comes to mind for me is the night before I decided to have my Lab's leg amputated. She was almost 11 years old when the tumor ruptured on her leg and we found out she had cancer. Off and on over two weeks, I had to cart her back and forth to the Vets or the emergency clinic to get her bandages redone and have her wound checked.
The two nights before I made my decision we were at the emergency clinic. Our veterinarian had told us three days earlier that we had to do something soon because she was slowly bleeding to death.
So, we were at the clinic getting her bandage changed. A family was in the next booth waiting to find out if their dog would survive a car accident. They got good news. They sent a family member out for sandwiches which they brought back while we were waiting to be seen.
While we were in our booth, Sierra started to scoot over. I was watching her to see what she was doing. Soon, she was sitting in front of their booth. She was hungry! Here my poor dog was slowly dying before my eyes and all she could think about was that she wanted a bite of sandwich.
It was that point that I decided that I'd do everything I could to save her life if possible. She obviously still wanted to live. I called the specialist the next day and found out they could not do the amputation for two weeks. That just wouldn't work. The next morning Sierra was not herself and didn't want breakfast. That meant something was really wrong. She never passed up food.
I called the Vets and a half hour later they had the room ready for us. I really didn't know if we'd be saying goodbye or they could help her. She ended up having her leg amputated that day and living 3 1/2 years more.
I'll never forget that moment for as long as I lived. I learned a little bit about survival that night.
(I guess that was more than one memory, but it all sort of fit together.)
09-17-2012, 02:46 PM, (This post was last modified: 09-17-2012, 02:46 PM by sandooch.)
What a wonderful story, TreeClimber. I had tears in my eyes reading it. I know that was not an easy decision for you to make, but I'm glad the vet was able to get your Lab in in the last minute for the surgery she would need to survive. And also that you were blessed to share 3 1/2 more years with her because of your decision.
Thanks Sandooch! I probably could have posted another story, but that moment is with me always. It turned out to be one of those situations where everything fell into place. We got to the Vets. They did x-rays and determined her cancer had not spread. The surgeon who only came every two weeks was there that day. It felt like it was meant to be.
It was one of those moments where you don't know how it will turn out. She might not have survived surgery. She was already 10 1/2 years old. She could have had her leg amputated and been diagnosed with cancer elsewhere soon after. She might not have adapted to three legs. And, on and on and on. But, it worked out fine. She did end up with arthritis in her hip, but that was kept under control until the last 3 months of her life. So, really, we were blessed with all the extra time we got with her.
When I took on my second husband, I also took on his Border Collie, Patch. Both of them were getting on a bit - Tony was past 60, and Patch was 13 - quite old for a Border Collie. He went everywhere with us, and he was everyone's friend - I often joked that it was Patch I really wanted to marry, but as that was illegal, I had to have Tony as well!
One summer Sunday afternoon, we took Patch for a ride out to the moors, because we could let him run freely there. Even at his advanced age, he still loved a good run. As we crossed a popular common, we noticed a flock of sheep at the end of the common. One of them had detached itself and gone over to scrounge something from a family's picnic. As soon as Patch saw that sheep, he crouched down, and gently drove it back to the rest of the flock, he never made a sound, or touched the sheep at all, but he got him back where he thought he should be.
That dog had never seen a sheep since he left the farm where he was born at 8 weeks old, yet he knew just what to do. It brought tears to our eyes - and several of the onlookers were amazed, as they'd never been so close to a sheepdog in action.
My little black cairn, Dilys, when elderly really did not like walking in the rain. If we were out on a walk and it started raining Harvey, then aged 4, leggy, boisterous and averse to rain, would calm down and walk above her. This happened quite often, we don't know how he worked it out, or if they communicated somehow.
When Dilys died, aged 17, a few months after this behaviour started, she died at home and Harvey lay down nose-to-nose with her.
He was such a kind soul - sadly he died the following year aged only 5 years. He had a very virulant form of lymphatic cancer.
(09-17-2012, 12:48 PM)sandooch Wrote: One that stands out most in my mind is of my black poodle, Fella. He was my very first dog that belonged to only me and he was as smart as a whip. I was around 11 when I found him on the street, matted and abused, but he quickly got used to his new home with us.
The most special memory I have of him is when I was around 15 or 16 years old. My father and I would walk down to the elementary school down the street from us to go jogging. It was about a 10 minute walk to the park and we always took Fella with us. He loved it and looked forward to it daily.
One day I went out looking for him for our walk to the school, and he was nowhere to be found (he usually just stayed put on our front porch). So my dad and I went jogging alone that day. When we came back, there was Fella on the front porch, laying down and crying...I mean really crying, with tears running down his muzzle and whimpering like crazy. I immediately knew it was because he knew he missed out on running with us that day. Poor baby!
From that day forward, he made sure not to miss any more days of jogging with us and was at his post every day at the time we left. That memory will be etched in my brain forever.
Sandooch, this is so cute. Your dog is adorable. He got really upset for missing your morning walkies.
I guess, for me, I truly appreciate the fact that one of my dogs made it a point to relearned proper potty etiquette even after years of being locked in a cage and having to live with his own poop.
When he saw me living in this household again, never did I experience cleaning up accidents because he would always hold it in no matter how long it will take me to get him outdoors.
I guess he appreciates the fact that I don't chain him or cage him up unlike his old caretaker.
(09-17-2012, 05:19 PM)TreeClimber Wrote: Thanks Sandooch! I probably could have posted another story, but that moment is with me always. It turned out to be one of those situations where everything fell into place. We got to the Vets. They did x-rays and determined her cancer had not spread. The surgeon who only came every two weeks was there that day. It felt like it was meant to be.
It was one of those moments where you don't know how it will turn out. She might not have survived surgery. She was already 10 1/2 years old. She could have had her leg amputated and been diagnosed with cancer elsewhere soon after. She might not have adapted to three legs. And, on and on and on. But, it worked out fine. She did end up with arthritis in her hip, but that was kept under control until the last 3 months of her life. So, really, we were blessed with all the extra time we got with her.
And yes...they will do anything for food!
Tree, your story's really touching. But I know how devastating it can be.
Your dog taught you a valuable lesson. Even when you feel the world is turning against you, the dog will simply show you that it doesn't matter. You just have to work with what you have, wag your tail and beg for some treats. Life has to go on.
There isn't much I could say here but I truly loved reading about all of your stories. I'm having dog problems at the moment and the current memories I've had about them are just awful ones because I haven't had one of them neutered yet, so even when the other just simply wants to play, the littler one would go on an attacking spree.
What wonderful stories you all have! It will always amaze me how dogs are so in tune with humans and each other. They know when we are hurting and comfort us. They understand when we are happy and that makes them happy. They instantly forgive us when we get mad at them. And they calm us down when we are stressed. They really are little four-legged angels, aren't they?
Sandra, that was a sweet story. Your dog knew by instinct that the sheep must be put back where it belonged. That reminded me of my sister's previous dog. She was an Australian Shepherd/Wolf mix. Her friend had a ranch in a rural area and came across the litter one day. This one pup got separated a few weeks later. My sister took it in.
The dog herded people all the time. Like Sandra's dog sheep herding after many years, my sister's dog herded us. We often went hiking together. I can still remember the dog tapping me on the back of the legs if I got out of line. I remember her doing this with my Lab as well.
Julie, I think dogs communicate in ways we don't understand. I think your two dogs showed that.
Haopee, I hope whatever situation you have right now remedies itself soon.
These are all wonderful stories - I guess what our dogs teach us (anad any animal really) is to live in the moment.
This thread reminded me of a doggy poem based on Rudyard Kipling's "If", you may have seen it before, but if not I'm sure you'll see your dogs in it .....
Edited by Thor -
Edit Note: Please do not copy and paste possible copyright materials with exactly words.
My mom had a Maltese named Benjy who worshiped the ground she walked on. When she was out of the house - it was a split-level - he would carry her house shoes to the top of the stairs facing the door, and howl loudly and continuously until she came home. We tried to explain to Mom what it was like. We ended up taping him one evening. It expression was priceless.
Julie, what a wonderful and factual poem. I just read it to my husband and he liked it, too.
Nakhash, that is so sweet. I sometimes wonder what Gigi does when we leave for a few hours. I'm sure she is just constantly looking out the door and/or whining or barking. She's probably driving our cats nuts.
I mention this a lot, but my dogs are very hyper, high-energy dogs. One day, my dog was going crazy as per usual, running all around the house like mad and running in and outside the house as fast as he could. But...he wasn't paying attention much, so he ended up running right into the screen door, putting a large dog-sized dent in it. We laughed at him and felt sorry for him at the same time. Luckily, he wasn't hurt, and he actually only acted confused about the strange force field in his way. Then we opened the door for him and he took off running like crazy again as if nothing had happened. He's such a smart dog sometimes...other times, not so much.
Haopee, I hope whatever situation you have right now remedies itself soon.
It did. I left for a business trip a couple of days ago and I was amazed by the transition when Whitey and Buchi were no longer fighting each other. I was wondering whether it was because of my presence that Buchi feels empowered with me holding his leash when we walk outside or it was because of Rin.
They are still both under observation but thank you for wishing me luck.
10-01-2012, 06:00 AM, (This post was last modified: 10-01-2012, 06:00 AM by TreeClimber.)
Nakhash, that is funny about the shoes, though I bet it would get on your nerves. She should train her to bring her slippers to the door when she comes home.
My sister's dog does something odd like that when her Mom isn't there. Whenever the answering machine goes off, she hears my sister's voice. She walks over to the machine and she howls until my sister's voice ends. She doesn't howl over the person calling She never howls otherwise, only with the answering machine.
I remember her doing this with my Lab as well.