I got in late last night, after putting in an obscenely long work day. My
dogs greeted me with their usual zeal when I walked through the door, and
Bubby, especially, as was his wont, just couldn't get enough of me. Every
time I took a step forward, he would jump back up and put his forepaws on
my chest, begging me to scratch him just so, and giving me that look he
always had. That look that always allowed me to look through his eyes into
his soul and see the profundity of his unbridled affection for me.
Bubby was not the "chief" dog in our little pack, but he was, secretly, my
favorite. Bubby and I had a special relationship that was different even
from that I share with my "puppy princess" Freckles. Freckles is always
close at hand, and wherever I am, she must be within sight of me. Bubby
was more of a free ranging spirit, but he always stayed close, and always
came when I called him. When I did, he poured forth such good cheer and
adoration that I could not help but hold him most dear of all, in spite of
his slightly more troublesome nature.
Last night, I let him out to pee, and I forgot to call him back. I realized
this half an hour later, and then I stayed up until 5:30 AM roaming the
neighborhood in my car, on foot. I walked over the bridge and through the
woods. I found dog prints and deer prints, and supposed perhaps he had
chased a deer over the pedestrian bridge into the forest. I walked about
two miles in the dead of night with my flashlight, poking around in all the
out of the way ugly places in all the commercial properties surrounding us.
I walked the same distance on the business route, up one side and down the
other, probing both ditches with my flashlight, and yelling until I could
barely make a sound.
I never thought to perform the same search on the new bypass that runs
behind the house. There is a barbed wire fence all along its length, to
keep the road on the road side, and the non-road on the non-road side. I
had verified the integrity of this fence many times, and I trusted it so
much that the business route did not even enter my consciousness as a
possible location to search for him.
I suppose, in retrospect, I should have searched the fence line first. I
might have gotten more sleep last night, instead of starting and waking
every few minutes to go to the door, and verify that the pile of catfood
(his favorite) had still gone uneaten. Bubby loved catfood.
Bubby found a break in the fence about a mile from here, went up the hill,
and got killed on the bypass two miles from home. There was not enough of
him left to bring home for a proper burial. As much as I wanted to see him
laid to rest here at home, I could not bring myself to lug a 60 pound bag
of dog parts on the two mile hike. When I found him, he was already on the
roadkill truck, and I decided to leave him there. I don't know if that was
the wrong decision or not.
I haven't lost a pet to a car in more than 20 years because I have always
been careful. Always. Always, until one night when I came home from
putting in an extremely long work day, let my dog out to pee on his own
recognizance, and then forgot to yell for him before he had a chance to
wander off.
Dogs don't live long. It's a foregone conclusion that loving a dog is going
to lead inevitably and inexorably to heartbreak at some point down the
road. Sometimes they get diseases that no person of normal means can
afford to have treated. Sometimes they have inherent genetic defects that
lead them to have short, painful lives. Sometimes they live to be 15 or
18 or even 22, but the road always ends in heartbreak. Dogs live well, and
they live happy, and they burn up their measure of time far more rapidly
than we. Loving a species that can age from infancy to senescence in less
time than it takes a human to become old enough to grow a good beard always
carries with it an inescapable measure of tragedy.
Even so, Bubby's time was not supposed to have run out yet. It makes it all
the more difficult to bear. At two, he was still in his prime, with
several more years before he would have started to show the first signs of
aging. He probably could have stood at my side until my kids were out of
college, or maybe beyond. Dog lives are not so short that they can't span
wide expanses of human experience.
This is my fault, for failing in my vigilance, and for allowing yet another
cherished pet fall prey to the road. I don't know how long it will take me
to forgive myself. This day, this sadness, this loss was inevitable from
the day Bubby was born, for only by our human children can we rightfully
expect to be outlived, but this sad, hateful day was at least six, probably
ten, fifteen, even sixteen or more years too soon in coming. I was not
prepared for this. I would be more able to cope with the loss of my
precious Freckles, she who is always never more than 10' away from me, for
she has long been my stead companion, and the ravages of time are beginning
to affect her. Bubby was in the prime of life, and he, like millions
before him, died before his time because so many species have not yet
evolved any common sense when it comes to those mysterious bands of asphalt
and concrete that crisscross the civilized world.
I wish it had been Sugar. I love Sugar, but she was not nearly as dear to
me as my beloved Bubby. She was wont to slip her collar and range far and
wide. I strongly suspect that she lead Bubby to his death by showing him
the hole in the fence. Bubby was never an escape artist, but Sugar has
been trouble from the day she first showed up; having doubtless escaped
from some previous owner we were never able to locate.
So the worst of it, in a way, is that I have to continue to deal with the
living while trying not to hold her unfairly responsible for the dead.
They are, after all, only dogs. They do what dogs do. They may be
man-made things bred through the millennia to be our unique and un-natural
companions, but they are still creatures of Nature for all that, as are we
ourselves.
I hope he was enjoying whatever he was doing at the moment of impact
immensely, and that he left life with a happy thought in his head. Coming
home from work will never be the same again, no matter what new companions
eventually come into my life to fill this void. Each dog, each four-legged
friend, is different. The Bubby Era is officially over, and I have only a
mangled collar and some digital photographs I took of my beloved pet just a
few short days ago.
Thank you for reading this epitaph. I'm going to sit around and cry all
day, and then when the rest of my people get home from work and school, I
guess we will all cry together.
Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
live.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
"Fletis Humplebacker" <!> wrote:
> I hope your sorrows will ease soon but I know it will take time.
> I'm quite attached to my puppy, who was raised on a dead end
> road and doesn't stand a chance in traffic. I don't let him off the leash
> near roads, as it's my worst fear, and he is a terrier, bred to chase
> things before you know it.
That's the bitter part of all of this. I live on a dead end road too. It
terminates in a 20' high concrete wall, with a highway up above. There's a
fence running the entire length. I had checked the fence many times,
because I used to throw baseballs on the wrong side of it, and I was
looking for a way over to retrieve them without climbing over the barbed
wire. I had so thoroughly convinced myself of the integrity of this fence,
that the road above didn't even enter into consideration until one of Mom's
friend called to say she thought she had seen my dog on the side of the
road on her way to work that morning.
My error was in thinking like a human. Going OVER, not UNDER. That fence
isn't worth a damn for keeping dogs off the highway because it intersects
with a steep hill, like this
| /
| /
| /
/
/
/
There are all kinds of places along the bottom where two swipes of a paw are
enough to dig out and go right under. This particular hole was big enough
for me to go under without getting my pants dirty.
So now I know. I wish I had been able to find out in a less painful way.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
Swingman wrote:
> I am starting to believe that if want a dog, you should have two. One
> young and one old, it's better that way when you lose one.
Not, my friend, when the young one gets hit by a car. :(
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
I also can feel your pain Michael. I have the misfortune of being a
huge animal lover myself. This gets me into trouble as we (SWMBO & I)
seem to always take in the older dogs from the rescue society that
nobody seems to want. Of course we become overly attached to them
while they are in their golden years. I would think that we would
learn from this as we have been through this three times already. I
rationalize it in my little pea brain by trying to give them the best
years that I can. It's still amazing how it can turn you into a
blubbering wreck though when they go.
My thoughts are with you today.
P.
Silvan wrote:
> Bubby, especially, as was his wont, just couldn't get enough of me.
Every
> time I took a step forward, he would jump back up and put his
forepaws on
> my chest, begging me to scratch him just so, and giving me that look
he
> always had. That look that always allowed me to look through his
eyes into
> his soul and see the profundity of his unbridled affection for me.
Bugger! Sorry to hear of the loss, buddy. Yup, same feeling
here towards Ziggy. He's getting a bit long in the tooth now,
at nearly 7 years of age. His eyes are starting to cloud and I
remember what that means for them. Dunno what I'm gonna do once he
goes. I'll probably get another pup and try to forget. I've had 4
dogs in my life, this one is the 5th. What is it that keeps dragging
me back to them even though like you, I know it's gonna end in serious
pain?
To me, it's the friendship I know will be there. The true
kind: unselfish, voluntary, non-stop.
Do yourself a favour: get another pup soon. One you can
relate to like Bubby. Takes a while to find one, so
get cracking. It will help the healing.
"Silvan"
> I got in late last night, after putting in an obscenely long work day. My
> dogs greeted me with their usual zeal when I walked through the door, and
> Bubby, especially, as was his wont, just couldn't get enough of me. Every
> time I took a step forward, he would jump back up and put his forepaws on
> my chest, begging me to scratch him just so, and giving me that look he
> always had. That look that always allowed me to look through his eyes into
> his soul and see the profundity of his unbridled affection for me.
>
> Bubby was not the "chief" dog in our little pack, but he was, secretly, my
> favorite. Bubby and I had a special relationship that was different even
> from that I share with my "puppy princess" Freckles. Freckles is always
> close at hand, and wherever I am, she must be within sight of me. Bubby
> was more of a free ranging spirit, but he always stayed close, and always
> came when I called him. When I did, he poured forth such good cheer and
> adoration that I could not help but hold him most dear of all, in spite of
> his slightly more troublesome nature.
>
> Last night, I let him out to pee, and I forgot to call him back. I realized
> this half an hour later, and then I stayed up until 5:30 AM roaming the
> neighborhood in my car, on foot. I walked over the bridge and through the
> woods. I found dog prints and deer prints, and supposed perhaps he had
> chased a deer over the pedestrian bridge into the forest. I walked about
> two miles in the dead of night with my flashlight, poking around in all the
> out of the way ugly places in all the commercial properties surrounding us.
> I walked the same distance on the business route, up one side and down the
> other, probing both ditches with my flashlight, and yelling until I could
> barely make a sound.
>
> I never thought to perform the same search on the new bypass that runs
> behind the house. There is a barbed wire fence all along its length, to
> keep the road on the road side, and the non-road on the non-road side. I
> had verified the integrity of this fence many times, and I trusted it so
> much that the business route did not even enter my consciousness as a
> possible location to search for him.
>
> I suppose, in retrospect, I should have searched the fence line first. I
> might have gotten more sleep last night, instead of starting and waking
> every few minutes to go to the door, and verify that the pile of catfood
> (his favorite) had still gone uneaten. Bubby loved catfood.
>
> Bubby found a break in the fence about a mile from here, went up the hill,
> and got killed on the bypass two miles from home. There was not enough of
> him left to bring home for a proper burial. As much as I wanted to see him
> laid to rest here at home, I could not bring myself to lug a 60 pound bag
> of dog parts on the two mile hike. When I found him, he was already on the
> roadkill truck, and I decided to leave him there. I don't know if that was
> the wrong decision or not.
>
> I haven't lost a pet to a car in more than 20 years because I have always
> been careful. Always. Always, until one night when I came home from
> putting in an extremely long work day, let my dog out to pee on his own
> recognizance, and then forgot to yell for him before he had a chance to
> wander off.
>
> Dogs don't live long. It's a foregone conclusion that loving a dog is going
> to lead inevitably and inexorably to heartbreak at some point down the
> road. Sometimes they get diseases that no person of normal means can
> afford to have treated. Sometimes they have inherent genetic defects that
> lead them to have short, painful lives. Sometimes they live to be 15 or
> 18 or even 22, but the road always ends in heartbreak. Dogs live well, and
> they live happy, and they burn up their measure of time far more rapidly
> than we. Loving a species that can age from infancy to senescence in less
> time than it takes a human to become old enough to grow a good beard always
> carries with it an inescapable measure of tragedy.
>
> Even so, Bubby's time was not supposed to have run out yet. It makes it all
> the more difficult to bear. At two, he was still in his prime, with
> several more years before he would have started to show the first signs of
> aging. He probably could have stood at my side until my kids were out of
> college, or maybe beyond. Dog lives are not so short that they can't span
> wide expanses of human experience.
>
> This is my fault, for failing in my vigilance, and for allowing yet another
> cherished pet fall prey to the road. I don't know how long it will take me
> to forgive myself. This day, this sadness, this loss was inevitable from
> the day Bubby was born, for only by our human children can we rightfully
> expect to be outlived, but this sad, hateful day was at least six, probably
> ten, fifteen, even sixteen or more years too soon in coming. I was not
> prepared for this. I would be more able to cope with the loss of my
> precious Freckles, she who is always never more than 10' away from me, for
> she has long been my stead companion, and the ravages of time are beginning
> to affect her. Bubby was in the prime of life, and he, like millions
> before him, died before his time because so many species have not yet
> evolved any common sense when it comes to those mysterious bands of asphalt
> and concrete that crisscross the civilized world.
>
> I wish it had been Sugar. I love Sugar, but she was not nearly as dear to
> me as my beloved Bubby. She was wont to slip her collar and range far and
> wide. I strongly suspect that she lead Bubby to his death by showing him
> the hole in the fence. Bubby was never an escape artist, but Sugar has
> been trouble from the day she first showed up; having doubtless escaped
> from some previous owner we were never able to locate.
>
> So the worst of it, in a way, is that I have to continue to deal with the
> living while trying not to hold her unfairly responsible for the dead.
> They are, after all, only dogs. They do what dogs do. They may be
> man-made things bred through the millennia to be our unique and un-natural
> companions, but they are still creatures of Nature for all that, as are we
> ourselves.
>
> I hope he was enjoying whatever he was doing at the moment of impact
> immensely, and that he left life with a happy thought in his head. Coming
> home from work will never be the same again, no matter what new companions
> eventually come into my life to fill this void. Each dog, each four-legged
> friend, is different. The Bubby Era is officially over, and I have only a
> mangled collar and some digital photographs I took of my beloved pet just a
> few short days ago.
>
> Thank you for reading this epitaph. I'm going to sit around and cry all
> day, and then when the rest of my people get home from work and school, I
> guess we will all cry together.
>
> Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
> ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
> live.
I hope your sorrows will ease soon but I know it will take time.
I'm quite attached to my puppy, who was raised on a dead end
road and doesn't stand a chance in traffic. I don't let him off the leash
near roads, as it's my worst fear, and he is a terrier, bred to chase
things before you know it.
I'm truly sorry to hear of your loss. All pets that are treated as
part of the family have their own special personality and place in our
world. Yours included Bubby as well as Sugar. We never know why the
time comes when it does, but no matter the circumstances the time
comes. It is better to hold onto the fond memories rather than the
reasons for the loss. When we put down our 14 year old retreiver it
was the hardest thing we had ever done. I was there when it happened
as I would not want to be anywhere else. We have a new retriever (8
years now) who has her own special personality, and although I still
miss Molly, my current Annie is special as all get out. Time will
pass and the loss will heal. Remeber the welcome homes and other good
memories when you think of Bubby.
Good luck and take care!
Silvan wrote:
snip of something we've all lived through, some of us many times.
It won't help, but I'm sorry. You're really not to blame, dogs
are like guys, we do what we want to, and sometimes it gets us in
trouble. Could be why guys and dogs seem to understand each other
so well.
Dave
--
Dave Leader
reply-to doesn't work
use:
daveldr at att dot net
American Association of Woodturners
http://www.woodturner.org
Capital Area Woodturners
http://www.capwoodturners.org/
PATINA
http://www.Patinatools.org/
Steve wrote:
> I cant imagine what losing a child must be like.
My wife miscarried & I was pretty torn up for a month or two. I had already
become quite fond of the son or daughter. When asked how many children I
have I answer "2" but I always think, "3 but I haven't met one of them yet."
He or she would have had his or her 20th birthday about now....
It must be really rough to lose a child you've known as an individual.
-- Mark
"Silvan" wrote in message
> Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
> ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
> live.
Sad tale, and very sorry to hear it. We lost our 14 year old Golden
Retriever last year and I still catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of
my eye, or hear her collar jingle, or expect to see her come trotting up to
greet us when we come home in the evening
We still have not replaced her ... you just can't do it for a while.
I am starting to believe that if want a dog, you should have two. One young
and one old, it's better that way when you lose one.
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 11/06/04
"Dave in Fairfax" wrote in message
> Silvan wrote:
> snip of something we've all lived through, some of us many times.
>
> It won't help, but I'm sorry. You're really not to blame, dogs
> are like guys, we do what we want to, and sometimes it gets us in
> trouble. Could be why guys and dogs seem to understand each other
> so well.
Now, I really like that ... thank you for that observation!
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 11/06/04
Silvan wrote:
> Dave in Fairfax wrote:
>
>
>>Silvan wrote:
>>snip of something we've all lived through, some of us many times.
>>
>>It won't help, but I'm sorry. You're really not to blame, dogs
>>are like guys, we do what we want to, and sometimes it gets us in
>>trouble. Could be why guys and dogs seem to understand each other
>>so well.
>
>
> I tried to say something to that effect that the graveside service. No
> remains, so we had a symbolic ceremonial funeral pyre where we burned a can
> of cat food (Bubby's favorite, oh how he loved cat food) and one of his
> boogity-boos(dog toys) in a bonfire that consumed every scrap and every bit
> of yard debris, and blazed for three hours. I evidently make a half decent
> Pagan priest.
>
> My "sermon" was about the trades we sometimes have to make between pleasure
> and safety. I talked about how, for example, woodworking or riding a
> bicycle is more dangerous than sitting on the porch, and how we constantly
> accept a certain level of greater or lesser implied risk to engage in
> activities we consider more pleasurable than their safer alternatives.
> True safety is mind numbingly boring, and it doesn't lead to a very
> enjoyable lifetime, so we trade away some of this security for pleasure.
> Sometimes it results in dislocated elbows, cut fingers, and sometimes the
> consequences are fare more dire, as in this instance.
>
> We can take some small solace from the fact that he died doing exactly what
> he wanted to do, and he died well. His eyes were closed, and his face
> slack. He didn't have a grizzly, tooth-clenched, open-eyed rictus of death
> as I have sometimes seen. He never saw it coming, I hope.
>
> Poor, stupid dog. I'm going to miss his hugs.
>
Life ain't safe and it ain't pain free.
The more you try to make it so the less you actually live.
It's called 'the human condition', I think.
--RC
"Robatoy" wrote in message
> In article <
> "Swingman" wrote:
> My parents, both 84 now and in pretty good shape, have two ankle biters.
> A Shitsu and a Bichon. It is their universe. Everything revolves around
> those dogs. I walk in and one of my parents will say something to one of
> the dogs like: "Look who came to see us (insert dog's name)!!??"
> Not "hello" to me....LOL....
Your parents are exactly one year older than mine. There is no telling how
many dogs they have on that 60+ acres. Last count there were 43 horses (Dad
"retires"all his racehorses and will simply NOT sell one, regardless), a
couple of old, dry, out-to-pasture ex-milk cows they can't bear to part
with, including a neighbor's cow who has been convinced for the past ten
years that the grass is greener on this side of the fence, a naturally
regulated profusion of barn cats , individually named, but whose population
is based solely on the available rodent population therein, and "Beau", the
king of the canine contingent, who guards the front door with his shaggy
Australian Shepherd body 24 hours a day.
They lost their in-house lap dog (a mean, nasty, bad tempered daschund named
"Maggie") last year from old age while Dad was on the operating table for a
by-pass operation and they have yet to replace her. We were a bit
apprehensive about telling him until he came out of intensive care for fear
that it would effect his recovery.
The monthly feed bill is kind of embarrassing to Mom, considering the hungry
folks in the world.
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 11/06/04
Dave in Fairfax wrote:
> Silvan wrote:
> snip of something we've all lived through, some of us many times.
>
> It won't help, but I'm sorry. You're really not to blame, dogs
> are like guys, we do what we want to, and sometimes it gets us in
> trouble. Could be why guys and dogs seem to understand each other
> so well.
I tried to say something to that effect that the graveside service. No
remains, so we had a symbolic ceremonial funeral pyre where we burned a can
of cat food (Bubby's favorite, oh how he loved cat food) and one of his
boogity-boos(dog toys) in a bonfire that consumed every scrap and every bit
of yard debris, and blazed for three hours. I evidently make a half decent
Pagan priest.
My "sermon" was about the trades we sometimes have to make between pleasure
and safety. I talked about how, for example, woodworking or riding a
bicycle is more dangerous than sitting on the porch, and how we constantly
accept a certain level of greater or lesser implied risk to engage in
activities we consider more pleasurable than their safer alternatives.
True safety is mind numbingly boring, and it doesn't lead to a very
enjoyable lifetime, so we trade away some of this security for pleasure.
Sometimes it results in dislocated elbows, cut fingers, and sometimes the
consequences are fare more dire, as in this instance.
We can take some small solace from the fact that he died doing exactly what
he wanted to do, and he died well. His eyes were closed, and his face
slack. He didn't have a grizzly, tooth-clenched, open-eyed rictus of death
as I have sometimes seen. He never saw it coming, I hope.
Poor, stupid dog. I'm going to miss his hugs.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
I am so sorry to read (hear) about this. Bubby was a real person I believe,
and most dogs are not really above the animal level, some do make it
there. I guess it has to be a natural occurance to merely chance upon
such a relationship, it cannot be sought out and made to happen by will
power.
This happened to me when I was 5, on a visit to friends in Oregon, a
commune in the mountauins around Portland on which people built yurts
and geo. domes to live in. A wonderful and love filled small dog attached
to me and played and traveled the forrest all day, after a week we left to
come back to Ca. and I never saw him again, but I will never forget him,
I will see him in heaven, I hope.
(insert bible verse here, but can't remember what it is)
My mother is quite literate, she reads the best literature ever published
and has for most of her life. As I read your post I became impressed with
your construction of text (none too crudely stated I hope). So, I copied
your text into ms_word, used it's functions to edit and change the font,
got it all onto two pages and printed it for her to read and believe me,
she was very very impressed. That IS saying something.
Your writing quality is worth publishing, which could become a source
for your wife's medical bills and further.
So, thank you for the reminder of some possibilities that happen from
humanity, as there isn't much of it in my town, at least not at your level.
Anonymous wrote:
> link fence where she had been trying to dig to join the dog in the other
> yard. Her eye was impaled by the bottom strand of the fence.
>
> Reading Bubby's epitaph I was reminded of that winters afternoon and
> finding the dog I loved dead ... and painfully so.
Wow. I'm going to go check the perimeter of the fence at Mom's house ASAP
and make sure there are no loose wires. This is a problem I never would
have imagined.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
Sorry for your loss!
I lost a pet about 6 months ago due to Poisoning.
They suspect radiator fluid but it could have been anything around the
house.???
I still feel guilty that it was something I left lying around.
They said a table spoon of antifreeze will kill.
It was an agonizing death. We thought she was just sick, then we could not
find her. In the morning she was on the porch in obvious pain. We took her
to the Vet who watched her throught the day. After work we went and saw her.
She looked in bad shape. The vet got her blood work back and saw the numbers
and recomended putting her down. My wife stayed with her but I could not!!
It amazing how attached you get.
Now I'll tell you, it was a CAT!!! Not the same as a dog but this cat would
follow me around the yard and sit and watch me work. Whatever I was doing I
could look up and the cat would be there watching what I was doing!!!
I cant imagine what losing a child must be like.
We thought long and hard about getting a dog but we are at work all day and
I couldnt see leaving a dog home alone all day. Nice for us but unfair to
the dog. So we have another cat now. It just went in to get fixed today.
Steve
"Silvan" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> I got in late last night, after putting in an obscenely long work day. My
> dogs greeted me with their usual zeal when I walked through the door, and
> Bubby, especially, as was his wont, just couldn't get enough of me. Every
> time I took a step forward, he would jump back up and put his forepaws on
> my chest, begging me to scratch him just so, and giving me that look he
> always had. That look that always allowed me to look through his eyes
into
> his soul and see the profundity of his unbridled affection for me.
>
<snip>
Silvan,
Understanding & sharing the loss. Fritzi, Hans, Buffy, Caesar, and Raven
over the years. Probably gonna keep going through it until we're gone. Right
now we've got our "Lindy" girl, 3+ brindle Boxer, who thinks I'm her
personal lap.
Must be our kids all inherited the pet love gene though, as we've got
assorted dogs. "Rusty", min. Doxie, "Jack" & "Jill", black Labs, "Roman",
gorgeous Husky, "Bam-Bam" & "Sassy", Dobes, & "Pugly", Pug, plus some
assorted cats.
--
Nahmie
Those on the cutting edge bleed a lot.
In article <[email protected]>,
"Swingman" <[email protected]> wrote:
[some snippage]
> I am starting to believe that if want a dog, you should have two. One young
> and one old, it's better that way when you lose one
The older dog will help keep the younger one in line as well, although
that isn't always the case.
My parents, both 84 now and in pretty good shape, have two ankle biters.
A Shitsu and a Bichon. It is their universe. Everything revolves around
those dogs. I walk in and one of my parents will say something to one of
the dogs like: "Look who came to see us (insert dog's name)!!??"
Not "hello" to me....LOL....
*mumbles* yappy little furballs...I oughtta wring their little
Chanel-No.5 necks...<G>
They're like therapy for my folks. At least they don't argue with each
other too much...and when they do...yup, it's about the dogs.
0¿0
Rob
On Tue, 15 Feb 2005 11:16:21 -0500, Silvan
<[email protected]> wrote:
Sorry to hear that Silvan. Maybe pets' short lives show us that our own
days are also numbered and that we need to make sure we are "numbering our
days rightly" so that when we are called to give an answer, we will be
ready to do so.
+--------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
The absence of accidents does not mean the presence of safety
Army General Richard Cody
+--------------------------------------------------------------------------------+
<<< Snip for brevity >>>
>Thank you for reading this epitaph. I'm going to sit around and cry all
>day, and then when the rest of my people get home from work and school, I
>guess we will all cry together.
>
>Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
>ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
>live.
Sorry to hear about that- I've had my Collie for twice as long as I've
known my wife, and I can hardly think about what life without his (now
very grey) fuzzy face would be like. Hope it doesn't tear you up for
too long. My sincere condolances.
Aut inveniam viam aut faciam
In article <[email protected]>,
Silvan <[email protected]> wrote:
> I got in late last night, after putting in an obscenely long work day. My
> dogs greeted me with their usual zeal when I walked through the door, and
> Bubby, especially, as was his wont, just couldn't get enough of me. Every
> time I took a step forward, he would jump back up and put his forepaws on
> my chest, begging me to scratch him just so, and giving me that look he
> always had. That look that always allowed me to look through his eyes into
> his soul and see the profundity of his unbridled affection for me.
>
Condolences from me and my shop buddy Finn. I've buried a lot of friends
and squadron mates over the years in peace and war and I've learned to
stand stoically beside a coffin and a mourning widow but I know I will
be a complete basket case when I lose Finn.
Allen
Silvan wrote:
> Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
> ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
> live.
Man, I feel your pain. Pets have always been like children in my house... they
live here until they die, no matter what their faults may be. I acquired a dog
back in November from a shelter (my first pet in about 8 years). We have bonded
like I never would have thought possible. When I speak, my dog listens as if I
were the Burning Bush. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her prematurely.
I am very sorry for your loss. Your story almost had me crying.
--
Mortimer Schnerd, RN
[email protected]
"Robatoy" wrote in message
>
> Sad to hear about your loss, Michael.
> I only have a small idea of what that must feel like.
> I got some insight when my dad, he was 78 at the time, came apart at the
> seams when his 14-year-old dog had to be put to sleep.
> I had never seen that side of him before.
> It was a pleasant surprise.
Know the feeling.
My Dad, a WWII Silver Star/Purple Heart recipient, and as brave and tough a
man as you would ever want to meet to this day, surprised me when I was a
youngster when we had to put animals down, a fairly common occurrence on a
small farm ... he simply could never do it.
The task always fell to me. I hated it, but I could always rationalize why
it was necessary, even though there was always a tear in my eye when I had
to it.
When we had to put out family dog down last year due to age, I gave my
youngest daughter the option of being with her and stroking her head at the
end, but alas, she takes after her grandfather. I figured it was the least
thing I could do for such a faithful old friend.
--
www.e-woodshop.net
Last update: 11/06/04
Noons wrote:
> at nearly 7 years of age. His eyes are starting to cloud and I
> remember what that means for them. Dunno what I'm gonna do once he
Me too. :( Most of my dogs wind up blind, but then on the bright side,
they usually get on just fine for years after too. Not counting Bubby, the
youngest was 8 and the oldest was 16. Those aren't terrible odds.
> dogs in my life, this one is the 5th. What is it that keeps dragging
> me back to them even though like you, I know it's gonna end in serious
> pain?
Pet owner masochism complex?
> To me, it's the friendship I know will be there. The true
> kind: unselfish, voluntary, non-stop.
Yup.
> Do yourself a favour: get another pup soon. One you can
> relate to like Bubby. Takes a while to find one, so
> get cracking. It will help the healing.
Here's a picture. I can finally look at him at least. I took this just
days before the tragedy, down at Mom's house. I had no idea it would be
the last time I would photograph him, but at least the shot came out pretty
well, except for the background. Oh well. He's my wallpaper now.
Wallpaper, two stray hairs, and a mangled collar, what a shitty end to
such a good friend.
http://users.adelphia.net/~silvan/desktop.jpg
Here's Sugar:
http://users.adelphia.net/~silvan/sugar.jpg
And babydog Freckles (those ears used to be tan, sigh):
http://users.adelphia.net/~silvan/freckles.jpg
Pictures of the puppy coming forthwith. A mostly lab mix. I don't really
want a gigantic dog, truth be told, but the poor critter needs rescuing,
and while I just don't know if I can open my heart to a dog that isn't a
60-pound black and tan hound dog mix, I know my son sure can, and he's
taking Bubby's loss even worse than I am in some ways. He lost his romping
buddy, and I'm tired of seeing the poor boy mope around in the evenings.
Besides, Mom's puppy next door needs another puppy to play with, so her
puppy doesn't eat *all* her furniture.
--
Michael McIntyre ---- Silvan <[email protected]>
Linux fanatic, and certified Geek; registered Linux user #243621
http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Rue/5407/
http://rosegarden.sourceforge.net/tutorial/
On Tue, 15 Feb 2005 11:16:21 -0500, Silvan wrote:
> Thank you for two great years, Bubby. You were the most loving pet I have
> ever had, and there will never be another one like you for as long as I
> live.
When I was a young man, early teens maybe, maybe younger, I came home from
school to my dog Puschinka. I went out into the backyard to feed her and
rough house with her in the snow but she didn't come running. She didn't
come when I called. I found her lying on her side underneath the chain
link fence where she had been trying to dig to join the dog in the other
yard. Her eye was impaled by the bottom strand of the fence.
Reading Bubby's epitaph I was reminded of that winters afternoon and
finding the dog I loved dead ... and painfully so.
Still hurts. Some losses just don't heal. They are written on our hearts
and we just carry them with us from that moment on. All of life happens
and we shuffle that loss off to a quiet corner and lose track of it. Then
something happens and we find ourselves face to face with it again.
I am a Jehovah's Witness. I look forward to a day when these losses no
longer occur.
Bill