I found a pup many years ago. She was tossed into a fenced in lot where I worked. She was scared of every thing, turns out with good cause. I will condense a very long story. After feeding her for two weeks I decided to take her home. First was a trip to the vet as I had cats at home and did not want to take any diseases home. She was malnourished and abused but the vet said basically healthy. The vet put her at 5 months. I had her for 16 years. She developed kidney cancer and due to her age and the advanced stage of the cancer we had her euthanized. She has been gone longer than I had her and I still miss her.
When i was nine years old,i kept a dog.At that time,she was only five years old.I still remembered she often followed behide me when i was on the way to school.She was my good friend and good company.But one day,she got missed.I tried to find her,but failed.I'm really sad about that.Now i still miss her,hoping that she is still alive.
My grandpa had an old cattle dog, I remember it was older than I was when it passed away. It was a great dog needless to say. He was so helpful rounding up cattle, knew every bit of the farm, and was a great gaurd dog.
Lady was our oldest lived dog. She belonged to my Grandpa, not to myself though. He had taken her in as nearly an adult dog in exchange for some work he did on a log table saw.
She's been gone now many years, but looking back through family pictures, she spans through 19 years worth so given her adult status when they took her in she had to be nearly 20 or perhaps moreso.
She was quite an undetermined breed. I'll have to pull out some photo albums to see if I can get a picture of a photo I may have of her here yet. She was always present so I'm sure I'll find a good one.
I haven't had a lot of dogs in my life up until recently. At least not ones I owned and got to keep for long periods. My family were frequent movers and we lived in a lot of houses that wouldn't allow pets. My longest though, was technically my second dog, and she was with us for about 1.5 years. Kia (Red Heeler, can't remember what they're called in the US) was given to me for my 12th birthday after my parents divorced and she was 3 years old at the time. Up until Ori and Jasmine now, she was also the longest time I'd had a dog.
Sadly though, she was very protective of me, and had a habit of "nipping" those who she thought were a threat to me, and she was also very aggressive towards other dogs. She was an absolute sweetheart usually, just had a VERY off temper, and my mother and I really at the time, weren't that dog-smart. She's still lacking in that department, I'm afraid. But she was never really an animal person like me. The neighbors had their little Jack Russell mix in their front yard one day (still remember the date, weirdly) and in the public housing we lived in at the time, and the rural town, there were no fences in between front yards.
Kia bolted out of the door when my uncle was opening it and me already in the front yard grabbed her collar...successfully, my uncle decided he could handle her better, brushed my hand away and missed grabbing it so she took off. The 15-year-old thought it was a really smart idea to break them apart with her hands at their mouths, and she got bit from Kia. 10 minutes after, I was in the most hysterical state locked up in in the bathroom with Kia, hugging her to me knowing exactly what they were out there discussing. I refused to come out knowing that they were talking about having Kia put down, but I had to come out eventually, my mother was in tears on the front lawn as I emerged, told her that she's sorry, she has no choice, I think I remember throwing a stick at her and screaming before running back into the bathroom and locking the door once more.
When the council came to get her the next morning, I tried running after the truck, but my uncle restrained me until they got halfway down the street, and I still chased them as far as I could before breaking down. I don't think I've truly ever gotten over it, and I never spoke to our neighbors again after that...I hope that girl's a lot wiser when it comes to breaking up dog fights again.
Wow. I'm sorry, I just realized how much of an essay this was.
03-07-2012, 08:32 AM, (This post was last modified: 03-07-2012, 08:33 AM by Ram.)
My previous dog was a Lab. At 10, she developed cancer in her leg. I thought that would be it. The Veterinarian recommended that we have the leg amputated as the cancer was a slow moving form. I agreed. She recovered from the amputation very well.
She lived another 3 1/2 happy years as a three legged dog. 13 years is old for a 75 lb. dog.
I am honestly not sure if my first dog lasted for 15 years. Maybe it had been more. She was definitely a fighter. I regret not being there by her side when she passed away because I had to go to school in a different region.
I miss her so much. She was a great mom to her puppies and was very loving of us. She protected our home for 15 years. Last year, the last of her descendants had passed away because of Parvo. My mom isn't an advocate of having our dogs vaccinated because it was additional costs so the moment I was able to get a job, I had spent on their vaccinations to protect them from Parvo.
The oldest and best dog I ever had was a Dachshund/Golden Retriever mix, Shorty was short with a long body but had the retriever look and temperament. Such a smart dog. He was three months old when I answered an ad in the paper of a dog being given a way, when I arrived he was excited and ran over to play but he would mouth you alot, well first place he bit me (not hard) was my boob....OMG how embarrassing, anyway, he was a mess, I knew right off the bat that he had that disease that makes them lose their hair in patches and it's contagious among dogs. Anyway, the lady said it was from the older dogs beating up on him, so I took him home for the kids, bathed him in a special shampoo for dogs and one of the first things that made me realize how smart he was was when he brought a stick into the house and I was in a bad mood, I looked at him and yelled at him to get that stick outside right now. lol he picks up the stick, pushes the screen door open, drops it at the bottom of the steps then sits and looks up at me. WOW, was I surprised!.
Shorty lived until the age of 14 when it seems like overnight he became deaf and blind all at the same time. He wouldn't eat, or drink, stayed close to the wall, and was losing a lot of weight so I had to take him down and have him put to sleep and yes I was right there with him petting him the whole time.
Unfortunately that same day that I had to put my favorite dog down, later in the evening, my husband committed suicide through overdose of RX pain meds and muscle relaxers, put him into a coma for three weeks until I finally had it in me to take him off life support. Yeah, that's a day I certainly won't forget and that was March 3, 2008.