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Darn pets

Discussion in 'The Lounge' started by mountainexplorer, Apr 26, 2006.

  1. mountainexplorer

    mountainexplorer 1/2 ton status

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    Darn things make you get somewhat emotionally attached to them which makes it kinda hard to let one go. Tonight is the last night I get to spend with my dog. Tomorrow morning she has an appointment to end her life.

    I guess she lived quite a life for a dog since 1997. Time for her to go rather than see her in this condition she's in now.

    This was a dog that was extremely fast for a mutt... and used to be able to follow us for miles up in the backwoods when we'd drive rigs way up in the hills. She'd run with us all the way up and all the way back. (pre-2001) She was a stray no one wanted and my brother tried to get rid of lots of times by bringing her way up and leaving her in the middle of nowhere. She'd always find her way back and she kept hanging around our property and my brothers house until I took her as ours in '99.

    April 2006.
    [​IMG]

    2003 memorial Day Weekend.
    [​IMG]

    September 1998.
    [​IMG]

    Me keeping her puppies from pushing her off the couch in my trailer, Fall of '98.
    [​IMG]
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2006
  2. Muddytazz

    Muddytazz 1 ton status

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    Man that sucks. I know whats its like also and it sucks ass to have to make that decision.
     
  3. justhorsinaround

    justhorsinaround 3/4 ton status

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    Yea it really does suck. When I put one of our critters down when I was prolly somethin around 24 I bawled like a baby coming out of the little room in the vets office. Made the nurses cry and everything.

    Was the hardest thing I've ever done.
     
  4. mountainexplorer

    mountainexplorer 1/2 ton status

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    When my first dog Bear died in 2002, it was hard cause we'd had him since I was a kid. So I kinda fell back on Cammy as the backup pet. Now she's the last one.

    I was hoping she'd be around longer. As I was burying Bear I had it in my mind by the time I'd be doing the same to Cammy I'd be married and have a kid. But she didn't last that long. Some form of tumors now killed both my dogs kinda early.
     
  5. bigbluesuburban

    bigbluesuburban 1/2 ton status

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    Dude, I feel for you SO MUCH... I have had to make that decisions and just like justhorsinaround said... I cried like a baby. I am getting chocked up just thinkin' about if I were to loose my little buddy.
     
  6. mountainexplorer

    mountainexplorer 1/2 ton status

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    Well crap. Since I've been in the habit lately of posting long stories that are boring and no one wants to read, I dug up something I wrote in 2002.

    So here it is for you pet owners that like reading books:


    Pets. What is it about pets? Why do we humans have them? They are just animals. Just more creatures of God’s creation. But they are more than that. Why? I don’t know. But every pet owner understands. A pet is a companion. A friend. That special friend that is always there no matter what. A cat that jumps onto your lap, a bird that chirps its beautiful song, a dog that lays by your side, when you need that special touch. Of course, logically, a pet makes no sense. It’s an animal that a person must care for, tend to feed, and spend money on. But we are humans; and animals as pets serve as our companions, and our best friends. They don’t judge you after you’ve had a hard day. They love you unconditionally. Now, depending on the animal and the circumstances, the pet may hold a grudge for a short while, if you did something it didn’t like. But that is soon forgotten. You are everything to the pet, and the pet is a huge part of you.

    I have had several pets before. Goldfish, a hamster, some chickens. Now these pets may not have the love thing as larger ones. When I was 10 years old, the neighbors dog Nikki had puppies. Nikki was an Alaskan Husky and Malamute. The father was a wandering stray German Shepherd. All the little puppies were colored just like their mother except one. The only male of the puppies was colored like a German Shepherd. He was Bear.


    I wanted Bear so much after I heard they would be giving him away. They had given first choice to a friend of theirs, and we were next in line if they didn’t take him. My parents said we could take him, if the other people didn’t. I remember laying down after dark, just before falling asleep, thinking how much fun having a dog would be. I wished and hoped and prayed that I could have him, that cute little puppy dog next door. If only I could have this one thing, I would be so happy, I thought. If only this thing I wanted, like so many others, wouldn’t slip through my fingers.

    The next day was the day of decision. By afternoon, the people hadn’t claimed him, and Bear was mine! I was so happy. Finally, I thought, I got something I really wanted. Later that evening the people came to get Bear, but they had missed out by a matter of hours.

    All Bear wanted to do instinctively was get home to his mother. He constantly would crawl under our driveway gate and run across the street, to be next to Nikki and Bear’s sister “Tuff”, or Kooteney. We then laid boards down do prevent his escaping the yard, but once in a while, he’d get loose anyway. Eventually, he got used to being away from mom and sis, and also grew larger, so that he couldn’t fit under the gate.

    I remember watching T.V. one night with my dad. Bear was still a small little puppy, and stretched out on the floor under a chair, making himself look really long. I still remember how his tongue curled in his mouth when he’d yawn. We have a video of Bear and me running around the yard, when he was a tiny puppy, and he slips and stumbles on a piece of slick tin. I was so happy to have a dog.

    Bear liked to crawl way under my bed some nights and sleep. As he grew and got bigger, it got harder and harder for him do this. One day, he was under the bed, and started to crawl out. We could hear him struggling and making all kinds of noise to get out, since he thought he was stuck.


    My dad taught Bear all that Bear knows. When I’d go to school, dad would be home with Bear. He taught him how to sit, lay down, roll over and speak, as well as jump up and a few other tricks. I helped when I could. Dad used cookies and dog treats to teach Bear the tricks. Of course, like any other puppy, Bear had energy. He loved to run around and play and chew on things. I got really mad at him once when he chewed up a water gun that my mom and dad bought for me at Downriver Days. But compared to the average puppy, Bear was very well mannered. My dad would take him on walks every day. I see Bear’s whole attitude as coming from my dad. Quiet, mild mannered, respectful, and even courteous. Most dogs are fighters, especially when it comes to territorial issues or food. Bear was always polite. Bear wouldn’t fight over small pointless things. He’d only fight back if another dog was continuously and intentionally picking on him. But he’d rarely start a fight himself.


    Many times, as a kid, I’d want to play with Bear when he didn’t want to. He often gave me the “leave me alone” look, and seek protection from my dad. That look of his just seemed so intelligent. He saw my dad as his dad. Bear loved my dad as his own.


    After my dad died, Bear was deeply impacted. You could see he was a little depressed, but more so, confused. My grandparents had lived with us since Bear was born. In 1995, they went back to the Philippines. My uncle also lived with us for some time, and he moved to his own place. Then my dad passed away in 1997. Bear felt as if each of the people he knew and loved were disappearing, especially my dad. He felt lost for a while, as did I. Bears presence helped me by being there. When my mom went to work nights, it was now only Bear and me left alone in the house that was once so full.


    As humans always do, we moved on past our loss, and so did Bear. I know he never forgot my dad. It was just as if he had left, and not come back. I got my drivers license in 1997 and Bear and I went up to Ione many times, as did my dad and I with Bear. In the early ‘90’s, the neighbors had dogs that Bear would play with. Gertrude and Keeper, Annie and Sisco. Bear always enjoyed their company. Those neighbors moved away in 1995. In 1997, a stray dog wandered in to my brothers place and never left. She became named Cammy. Now, Cammy, along with Tyson and Snickers (Nikki), my brothers dogs, all got to play together. Cammy had puppies in 1998, and one was kept by my brother. She was called Whitey, since she was pure white. As Whitey grew, Tyson became old to the point he could no longer walk. Tyson then had to be put down. Cammy never got along with my brother’s dog Nikki. They always fought, both being female. I then took Cammy and Whitey home with me to Spokane in 1999.

    Bear was happy at first to have guests. On the day I brought them home, every siren and noise of the city made Cammy and Whitey perk up and wonder what all this was. They were used to free roam and quietness in the woods. When Bear realized that these guests were permanent, he was a little jealous I think. Suddenly, these two girls had moved in on his home, sharing his yard and house. Eventually he got used to it. Then we realized something. Cammy was pregnant. She had nine puppies, of different colors and sizes. We gave them all away except for one. This one was Spot, a uniquely colored male.

    Bear never did know how to handle puppies. He usually stayed away from them. We then gave Whitey away to a good home, and kept Spot. Spot would never grow up. His energy surpassed his mothers. Cammy was an extremely fast dog, but Spot was faster. Spot also got loose in the neighborhood and roamed around on several occasions. For a while there, the three dogs were the classic family. Cammy, Bear and Spot. Mother, father and child. But Spot was too hyper for us to keep him. We gave spot to my Brother Ron.

    Now it was back to Cammy and Bear again, the couple. They have grown to love each other. Cammy likes to eat, and often pushes Bear out of the way to get food. Bear is passive and polite. She darts to get out or in the door first, Bear waits for her to go first. Cammy is the classic selfish dog, where she herself comes first. But she still loved Bear as did Bear love her. Often, they would lie down next to each other, and lick each others noses (closest thing to kissing I can guess).

    Bear is now 11 years old, and I am 21. He’s starting to get old, but I never saw him as old. My last and possibly final trip to Ione with him was last weekend, September 6-8, 2002. Bear and Cammy went with me. Bear acted very tired and homesick the last night we were there. We came home, and Bear seemed exhausted and sick. A trip to the vet revealed a tumor in his stomach attached to his spleen. It was 5 ½ pounds and was the cause of his change in behaviors. They operated on him on Wednesday morning, the 11th. He was able to walk later on, but still couldn’t eat. Today, he wouldn’t eat and couldn’t even get up. His eyes stared straight ahead. They believe he had a stroke. I looked at him, looked at his eyes, and I saw the dog I had known since I was 10 years old. But at the same time it wasn’t him. He looked as if he’d lost the will to live, and that he just wants all the pain to be over. From looking at him, looking at his eyes, and seeing him how he was today, I have doubts that he will live through tomorrow. I may be wrong; I hope I’m wrong. But I can’t deny what the truth may hold. My Bear was already gone today. I saw my dad again, bedridden, without energy, and in pain; Hanging on to life, yet ready to leave.


    I remember when Bear was young, I thought to myself, “What will I do when Bear dies someday?” I told myself, that he wouldn’t die until I was in my twenties, and by then, I could handle it. I also remember laying in bed at night in the early ‘90’s, thinking that my dad was in the next room, Bear is asleep, and my mom will be home from work soon. I knew that someday, my dad would no longer be there, but I told myself, My dad is here now, everything is alright. I made it through losing my dad. Now, Bear may no longer be sleeping outside my door. I lay again, thinking of how much I wanted Bear, how much I wanted him to be mine 11 years ago. I pray to God to have my dog back. But whatever happens, I’ll get through it. If Bear leaves me, I know he’ll be wagging his tail when he sees my dad again.

    Allan A. Lundberg
    Sept. 12, 2002
    9:35 P.M.


    September 13, 2002. 7:00 p.m.

    This morning, my mom and I buried Bear at the farm my father was born on. We put him near the pond, where the early morning sunlight shines just before coming completely over Cement Mountain. I will never forget Bear. He was not just a dog, but he was like another human being. He had a distinct personality, just like a human, only polite and not selfish. He moved out of the way if you walked where he was lying. He would bark to come in and out, but would never make a bunch of extra noise. He was curious, and had all the emotions of a human. I could see it in him; Love, fear, excitement, joy, embarrassment, happiness. He would rarely beg for food. When he did, he would rest his chin on my knee when I would be sitting down, and look up at me with a question in his eyes, “Can I have some?” When he’d walk in and see me in a bad mood, when I wanted to be alone, he’d walk in, look at me, and then go lay down without bothering me. When we’d drive to Ione, he’d lay on the seat, and rest his head on my lap.


    Today has been hard, harder than Id have imagined. Everywhere I’d walk in the house, I could see him lying there in his favorite spots, with those expressions on his face; a smirk, annoyment, wonder, or excitement of going somewhere. Driving to Ione, I could see him all those times with me different years; my dad and I with bear in the ’68 Chevy truck, and Bear with me all those other times just us went up. I remember his excitement as we’d approach the farm. Exactly one week ago, I saw that excitement in him for the last time.


    I thank everyone who tried their hardest to save Bear. I thank the doctors for doing all that they could, and especially my mom, who hasn’t slept much all week and did everything in her power to keep Bear with us longer. But his time had come. I wasn’t prepared; just Monday night, I had no idea that on Friday, I would never see him again. All Monday night, he laid outside on his favorite spot; a cushioned bench on the porch-
    His last night home.

    This week, after Bear had left home for the last time, a bird appeared. My mom and Mike pointed it out to me just 45 minutes ago. A small bird, that has flown in every evening under our porch, and rests up in the corner of the ceiling, over the chair that Bear laid in. It doesn’t chirp or make noise, it doesn’t even move or act scared when we stand right next to it. It simply sits there, and looks at us, without fear, and without a need to fly away. As a human, I don’t know how God has designed the universe to work. But I just wonder, if God lets loved ones see through the eyes of the birds sometimes; Because when I looked at the bird, and it stared at me, I knew Bear was looking back at me, my mom and Mike. I looked at its eyes, and I knew who it was.

    I just went outside now and took a picture of it. It didn’t even flinch. It just stared back at me with that intelligent look that Bear often gave me. It just seems to be sitting there, content to stay, curled up in its feathers.

    Bear left our home here on Tuesday, not expecting him to be gone long. I think Cammy still is waiting for him to come home. In a way, so am I. But the reality may be, my dad and Bear are waiting for that day when I come home.












    Allan A. Lundberg
    September 13, 2002
    9:00 P.M.
     
  7. chevyfumes

    chevyfumes Court jester

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    Watch for the muzzleflash!
    The dog has had a genuine good life, thats all any of us can hope for...
     
  8. Jishory

    Jishory 1/2 ton status

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    my dog patches is on the way out, this morning we almost had to put her down, she has had a few siezures lately and it just isnt fair to her to keep her alive in pain, ill admit i was crying like a little girl this morning when we were taking her to the vet, dogs mean alot to me :(

    sorry about your loss man
     
  9. blazinzuk

    blazinzuk Buzzbox voodoo Premium Member GMOTM Winner

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    Its not a dog but one of my cats got sick and I thought we might have to put her down. Made me nearly cry just thinking about it. Happy ending though, at least so far. 2 weeks of antibiotics and she has gained almost 4.5 lbs. she was down to 5 lbs. You should get another pet Allen lots of good dogs need homes
     
  10. shewheeler

    shewheeler 1/2 ton status

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    Sorry to hear about your pup. I had to put my dog down a few years back and it was heartbreaking.:(

    There are plenty of mutts out there looking for a home. Maybe you'll decide to take in another when you're ready.:o
     

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