Why don't-cha...

...just rip my heart out and let the dog chew on it??

Where am I coming from?

I'm just home from seeing Marley & Me.

I should know better than to go to movies like this... so why do I go? I seriously don't know...

It was an excellent movie. You know the kind. They suck you in and make you care about the characters and then they pull the rug out from under you. And did you ever notice that these kinds of movies are always released at Christmas time? (Like the year the movie Step-mom was released and billed as the "Perfect Christmas Gift". In what world is that? One that wants to plunge you into even deeper seasonal depression than normal??? Yeah, it took me weeks to get over that one!)

As I left the movie in tears there were two women (I assumed mother and adult daughter about my age) leaving, also in tears. They both told me about how hard it is to lose a dog and then the younger one of them says, "Yes, people with children just don't understand how hard it is to lose your dog." Oh really??? I had to bite my words of loss and sorrow, grieving and pain back. What good would it do to try to explain?

So rather than continue to rant about the above topics, which are so real, I will instead share some of my happy pet memories from my wonderful furry, four-legged friends.

Chronological order seems to be the best plan for this trip down memory lane...

My first long-term furry friend was Timmy the dog. He was a black cocker spaniel. Timmy was an outside dog. The few times we let him inside he went hog wild and did things like run around behind the Christmas tree and knock it over. Timmy is the dog that dragged me across the back porch when I was holding onto his tail. (I'd been asked to put him in the dog yard since we were going to eat on the back porch. In the drag he pulled me across a popped-up nail and it cut my knee, badly! The doctor kept asking if this wasn't a dog bite. Even at that young age I knew that my Timmy would never bite me!!) He was a wonderful 13 year friend. We found him dead in Daddy's shop one morning.



Next on the scene was my first big orange cat, Tiger. For more happy memories about this purr-box go here. He also lived 13 years and was a wonderful sleeping buddy.



Pat was a rescue dog... long before they called it that. We got him at the SPCA in Oakland. He was actually Sue's dog. She'd hoped that he would be more German Shepherd than "mix" but that wasn't the case. Sue soon left for college and he became one of my best friends. He used to love to go wherever I did, especially when I was riding Blue. He'd been hit by a car when he was only a year or two old and broke his front leg. Mom carried him in and out for a week or so while he healed. We taped a tall round Tupperware pitcher to his leg so he wouldn't lick out the stitches. I think that time of healing saved him from being an outside dog.

He became our inside friend. Well, until one night when he needed to go out and when he came back in he'd had a close encounter of the stinky kind with a SKUNK!! Oh did that ever stink! He stunk so badly that even though Mom put him right back out it took us days to get the stink out of our cloths and house. When I went to school people kept asking, "Do you smell a skunk?" I went back to my locker between classes and it reeked!! I ran home trying to blow the stink off!! In his older years he got arthritis. He would limp so bad when he came with me on trail rides that I would get him up in the saddle with me. He was so embarrassed! Poor old dog. I don't remember his exact age, but he lived well over 10 years.



This little maniac was next... Gypsy. Sue had just gotten married and was living alone!! No dog!! (yeah, she had a husband but that didn't count in my 11 year-old mind) A friend's dog had a litter of pups so I went and chose one for Sue for Christmas. Her name was Blue and she was a dandy!! By the time Sue was going back to Provo after the Christmas break I'd gotten attached to Blue so Mom asked if I'd like one of Blue's litter mates. Let's just put it this way... Sue got the pick of the litter!

Gypsy was one of those little dogs that is neurotic! We never could break her from pee-ing on the carpet, or walk on a leash without sounding like she was being killed, or barking at Daddy every time he walk into the house... even if he'd only been outside for five minutes!! This is the little maniac that almost burned down our house! Mom and I had gone to Reno for the day (100 miles one way) and we'd been invited to stay the night with Thelma, but Mom just felt like we needed to go home. When we arrive home the house was filled with acrid smoke. Gypsy had dug and dug at the electric blanket and foam rubber pillow until she'd shorted out the wires. There was a big smoldering hole in the mattress. Mom and I dragged the mattress outside and threw it from the back porch into the snow! Gypsy lived about 7 years. She died just days before Daddy. We laughed and said that there was Gypsy waiting at the Pearly Gates to bark at Daddy when walked in. (The picture below is me winning grand prize at a summer school dog show. WHAT??? I think it was rigged, no way! Maybe this just shows how unruly all the other dogs really were!)



Next was Blue... the realization of every little girl's dream to have a horse. He was my senior by 2 years and taught me so much about courage, patience, endurance, love, acceptance and never giving up! I could fill a book about this wonderful animal. He would wait at the fence and nicker at us the minute we walked out the back door. I could catch him with a piece of string and a dog-biscuit (strange, but there you are!) except on parade mornings at 6 am... then we would play the run around the pasture game for half an hour! He never bucked, never reared, never left his rider behind. He was a gentleman... albeit a high-spirited gentleman. I had him from the time I was 13 until I was 21 and then had to sell him because I had two babies to take care of. I often dream of Blue!



We went for a lot of years with only short-term dogs, cats and horses. I suppose it was a sign of the tumultuous years that we lived through. They were kind and happy for the short time we had them.

But the next, and frankly, best animal to join our family was Amber-the wonder dog! I'd heard about dogs like this but never quite believed them. But here was Amber... the embodiment of all those wonder-dog stories. She was very obedient, ever faithful and the perfect protector-dog that "spoke" English better than many humans! We could tell her to go get ____! and she would come back with that person. I never worried with Amber on duty; several male neighbor friends had to use the lion-tamer antics with a plastic lawn chair when they came into the backyard uninvited! Amber was our "Marley-like" dog as far as attachment went. She wasn't just a dog! She was our friend and family member! We were all devastated when she died unexpectedly at 12 years old. That wasn't part of the 15 year plan!



Big orange cat #2 is Simba. He is still with us; he is an old-man cat of 14. I got him because I wanted a cat, but we all know that we don't own a cat, a cat owns us; Simba owns Stuart. I've never seen a cat that thinks as much as this one! He thinks up devious, but not mean, tricks to play on his fellow occupant in HIS house. My favorite story was how he used to lie in front to the dog door and block poor little Buddi out. He tries the same thing with Harley, but Harley is much bolder than timid little Buddi and crowds right through the dog door pushing Simba aside amidst yowls that would make you think that Harley was hurting him; not so... but Simba is a poor loser! In his prime Simba weighed 15 lbs! Now he is Skinny McCat*! Poor old man! (*Thank you, Douglas!)



And here is my fur-covered-sack-of-love dog! Buddi adopted us on 9/9/99! Gordon says the doggy-angels told her to come to our house; he was so right! Buddi came to ME just at a time when the Lord knew I would need a friend who loved me unconditionally. There were times, with 3 teenagers all trying to emancipate themselves and a husband who was stressed to the max with his career that I felt like she was the only "person" who loved me! Sadly, Buddi was only with us for seven and a half years. She still has a large part of my heart.



Of course, lastly, is Harley the fur-covered-sack-of-trouble dog! He has more personality than any dog deserves and promises to be a entertaining friend for years to come.

I am so grateful for these wonderful animal friends that have enriched my life. I am grateful to know that I will have these same family members with me in the eternities.