(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.
