The animals give their affection unconditionally, and they are less judgemental thread

[MTK]

I've had cats, fish, dogs, guinea pigs, rabbits, great pets... all of 'em.

We have zero pets these days, my wife is too allergic and neither of use like the idea of animals in our house anyway. We have plenty of friends and family to get our pet fixes from.

[CultBrennan59]

Originally Posted by punch it in

When my dog took a turn for the worse i was driving an hour away to get fish meds for my daughters goldfish. It worked on one of them. I have learned alot about fish over the last couple years with just a ten gallon tank. I would love to have a bigger tank with some really cool fish, but i dont have the time for it. When i was at the animal hospital and a nervous wreck the only thing that kept me sane was their massive fish tank - had all sorts of cool - what looked like - moving coral plants? It was really cool. I have allergies to hamsters, mice- bunnies, etc and my wife is allergic to cats and dogs with fur, So poodles, shih tzus and fish are the limit in my house.

Well just know, if you ever do get into fish; Freshwater=cheap. Saltwater=Expensive as hell/but more beautiful.

[firstdown]

Originally Posted by Mattyk

I've had cats, fish, dogs, guinea pigs, rabbits, great pets... all of 'em.

We have zero pets these days, my wife is too allergic and neither of use like the idea of animals in our house anyway. We have plenty of friends and family to get our pet fixes from.

LMAO. I could go so many places with this statement.

[punch it in]

Originally Posted by firstdown

LMAO. I could go so many places with this statement.

Thats just wrong......and illegal in most states.

[Alvin Walton]

For you dog lovers.

OleBallnChain > OleBallnChain Home Page

[CRedskinsRule]

Originally Posted by Alvin Walton

For you dog lovers.

OleBallnChain > OleBallnChain Home Page

Man, Lady (from JR's earlier post - still waiting on the sequel Bro') could have used that BIG TIME. That beagle wanted out of the yard so bad she would dig any way she could to get out.

I had another skittish dog who would jump, or climb anyway she could who that would have been great for as well.

I miss my dogs.

[JoeRedskin]

Continuing on with the dogs of my life ...

ABBY: Abby (short for Abigail) was a four year old yellow lab we adopted. She was also the anti-Otis.

After Otis died in early February, I was in no mood to get another dog. In March, however, my wife heard of an older “rescue dog” that was in need of a home. My wife pretty much used emotional blackmail to force me to agree to taking the dog. When we got her, she was incredibly hyper and destructive with bad epilepsy to top it all off. I simply didn’t want the dog. At all. I was deeply hurt by my wife for forcing me “replace” Otis so quickly with this animal. Damn, I hated that dog.

Then a strange thing happened. She grew on me. Like mold.

At first, Abby didn't seem to know how to react to us. We were people who treated dogs like family, not like property. Clearly, her prior owners did not do that. Don't get me wrong, I think her prior owners tried do right by her but she was their first dog ever and she was a handful. They just didn't get that dogs aren't wind up toys. Soon enough, however, Abby adapted to being a part of a family rather than being owned by a family. She calmed down a little, became less destructive and just wanted to be around us.

Abby lived to be with people. She loved them - big people, short people, any people. She particularly loved HER people. Every day she let us know that we were her favorite playmates. She drank beer, was convinced she had thumbs, and was the most vicious "tug" player I have ever known. Sometimes I think she hated to sleep b/c it meant she would have to wait to play with us.

I say she was hyper (and she was) but she was also sweet and, around our new son, gentle. She never stopped being destructive and hyper. Also, her epileptic siezures caused more than one trip to the vet at strange hours. There were a few seizures where we thought she wasn't going to pull through. She did and each time, after a bit of rest, she was back to her regular self. One look from her and it was clear she was saying - "Sorry about that folks - did I miss anything? Okay then - are we playing yet?"

Yes, she was the anti-Otis, but that was okay. It was, in fact, good. Abby lived to play and played to live. Every day, she demonstrated that it is God's desire for us to enjoy life and eke every moment of fun from every breath we take. To me, in a very real way, she was the embodiment and physical manifestation of God's "Joy". Damn, I loved that dog.

Then she got sick. Really sick. Cancer sick.

In November/December 2005, we took her in to have some tests done on a cyst that wouldn't go away. They came back bad - very bad. She had a type of cancer that, by the time it was detected, was already throughout her system. With drugs and love we kept her alive through Christmas and into the New Year. She died a quiet peaceful death in January, 2006. We had her for only two years. We miss her deeply and love her still.

BRONWYN: Another yellow lab from the same breeder from whom we had gotten Otis and Trajan. It was as if Abby picked her for us. She, too, lived to play and played to live. Not as hyper or destructive as Abby, but just as enthusiastic about a game of tug and a romp in the field.

Unfortunately, she was also dumb as a post. I would sit in my chair and pretend to throw a ball for her while actually letting it fall behind my back into the chair. She would search for a it, give up and bring me another toy. Wash, rinse, repeat until I had about five to ten toys behind me and she would get this deeply perplexed look on her face “Dad … you threw all the toys into outer space … what are we going to do now???” Not the dumbest dog I have ever owned (that honor goes to another that will be described later) but probably not many pegs above vegetation. Again, however, she was a sweet, sweet animal.

She was my son’s dog from the moment she padded into the house. Trajan was slowing down at this point and a high energy puppy, while fun in short bursts, was tiresome to him for any extended play. For a four year old boy? A playful puppy was the definition of joy. My son tied a rope around his waist and ran around so she would chase him, or he would chase her if the mood struck them. Sometimes the chaser/chasee role would switch four or five times in the space of a ten minutes. It was chaotic fun to watch and inevitably ended with the two of them collapsing in a hug filled with dog kisses for my son. She loved to stick her paws into the bathtub when he was taking a bath and play “Hey Aidan, watch me eat the water!”. This amused him to no end. Theirs was a special relationship between a boy and his dog. He bonded with her on a deep level. ... It should have lasted for years.

One of Bronwyn’s really bad habits was that she was a bolter. Open a door and, if you weren’t vigilant, she was out it in a flash. She loved to be outside. We tried to be careful and cure her of the habit but, short of stiff arming her, it was a habit she just wouldn’t break. When you live in a row house 100 or so feet from a main drag this is a problem.

When Bronwyn was nine months old, I just wasn’t paying attention. I was thinking about something else and didn’t realize she was right there. Open door, out sprints dog – straight for the field where she and Aidan would race and chase. I called and ran after her. She thought we were playing, she kept running. Right across a main street. Right into the path of an oncoming car. I saw it coming. I know it was going to happen and I knew I was going to watch her die. I saw it hit her. I was helpless. Front right bumper. Full on body shot. Nothing the driver could have done. The car’s tire ended up on her hind leg.

She wasn’t dead. Bloody and damaged I carried her to the house. We got her to the vet somehow. She had a broken back, fractured skull, broken femur and all the ligaments and tendons in her ankle were shredded (the foot was being held on only by the skin).

Bronnie made a full recovery. They had to put a metal band on the femur but that was it. We kept her in a crate for six weeks to keep her as motionless as possible and give her back vertebrae a chance to heal. We carefully changed the bandages on her leg. Eventually, her back healed fine - lumpy, but fine. Additionally, the scar tissue in her ankle hardened and essentially fused the ankle so it wasn’t flexible. After the six weeks, Bronnie was given a clean bill of health and was racing and chasing with Aidan again. She ran with a gimp and lost a second or two off her 40 time, but she didn't seem to notice at all. Amazing. We couldn’t believe it. We called her the miracle dog.

Until the miracle ran out. About six months later, after we came home from our Christmas (2007) family visits, our neighbor - who had been watching her for us - told us Bronwyn was acting a bit off. That was a Wednesday night. We took her to the vet the next day and they told us it was pancreatitis. They were wrong. It ended up being IMHA – an auto immune disease that caused her own body to attack her system. We gave her a blood transfusion. It didn’t take. We gave her a second. It didn’t take.

On Friday, my wife and I were leaving to check on her. As I was putting on my shoes, my four year old son walked up to me and, in a voice a son reserves for the Dad who fixes everything, Aidan whispered to me “Dad … please don’t let Bronwyn die.” It was the most powerless I have ever felt in my life. God and I still have conversations about that one.

On Saturday, four days after Christmas, jaundiced so bad that the whites of her eyes were orange, her brain so fried by the disease she could not recogize us - or anything, we put her down. She died in my wife's and my arms as we cried our unheard goodbye. She was 16 months old. It was a horrible, horrible end to a beautiful, amazing dog.

My son cried, a lot, and uttered one of those deeply insightful lines that pain sometimes brings – “Dad, I feel blue to down to my bones.” I comforted him the best I could.

The next night, my wife was giving Aidan a bath and started crying thinking about Bronwyn Bath times. In an attempt to be comforting, but, instead, sending my wife into paroxysms of sobbing, my son looked at her and said “Don’t worry Mom. As long as Bronwyn is alive in our hearts and in our minds, she hasn’t really died.”

We miss you Bronwyn. Aidan is keeping you alive and will continue to do so until you meet him at the Rainbow Bridge.

(to be continued ...)

[punch it in]

^^^^ok now the Bronwyn story caused tears. I cant believe he survived the car accident. That was an emotional rollercoaster. I was up, down, up and down again. I think your sons reaction at bath time bought me up again. I cant imagine there was any relation to the auto immune disease?

[JoeRedskin]

We couldn't believe she survived the car accident either. It is burned in my memory - if I close my eyes and concentrate I can see the whole f'ing thing in slow motion. I think if she had been younger, she wouldn't have been strong enough and it would have killed her. On the other hand, if she had been much older, she would not have been able to grow into the healing. We also had an amazing vet who, unfortunately, moved away shortly after her recovery.

As for the IMHA, no clue what causes it. My wife did a lot of research after the fact to try and understand. I still don't know. To me, it's just one of those crappy things that occasionally happen to frail mortal things.

Yeah. Bronnie's death was tough. Just to note, with Trajan's death in 2010 - my son has had three dogs die on him in the span five years. All of whom he knew and was aware of when they died. When otherwise depressed or gloomy, he still occasionally cries about Bronwyn.

[JoeRedskin]

FYI - For those unfamiliar with the Rainbow Bridge poem:

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

It's corny, simplistic and steeped in sentimentalism, but, to me, there is an underlying truth to it. Whatever lies beyond, even if it is nothing, these animals brought me there and, come what may, they will go forward (or come to an end) with and in me ...

[Hog1]

I plead to the mods.....PLEASE ban JR if he posts to this thread again.
I have no more tears to cry......

[punch it in]

Originally Posted by Hog1

I plead to the mods.....PLEASE ban JR if he posts to this thread again.
I have no more tears to cry......

Lol. Seriously though if you are an animal lover its tough stuff to read.

JR, years ago in my college days in Miami - i had moved into a friends apartment (across a very busy road from my old apartment) with my dog Shea. I took her out for a walk one nite and locked myself out. This was before cell phones so i decided to walk her back to the old apt and call the landlord to come unlock the door. We are standing in the middle of the road and she wiggles her way out of her leash. I remember standing there thinking "please dont move". She moved. I looked up and of course some type of limo is next in line - i see Shea disappear in front of it and i hear a yelp. The car slammed on its brakes and i walked around the other side. I remember thinking "please let her be obviously dead because i cant handle a half dead /maimed/ dying dog. To my surprise only her front left leg had gotten trapped under the wheel. Not a scratch on the rest of her body. I yelled - back up slowly! He did and Shea got up and took off. I couldnt believe it. I ran back to the old apt and the door was open (nice miami nite). My roomates are all sitting there and im like "did Shea come in here"? Yeah shes upstairs. She came back to a familiar place - rite upstairs to our old room and was lying at the foot of the bed where she always slept. I followed the blood trail. Took her to a 24 hour vet at 1 am. No smartphones to find one - i dont speak spanish. It was very hard to find one and i remember driving around thinking my ****ing dog is going to bleed to death.
Anyway - i found one. The vet told me - she will be fine but she will have arthritis in that leg when she is older. It set in pretty bad when she turned about 8 or 9. By the time she was 12 the leg was really causing her pain and ultimately was what ended her time here. I will never forget how surprised i was when i came around and saw her "intact" though.
Edit: that is really sad about your son , but i think in someway it helps him to understand life and death - that being said i hope he has a dog that lives twenty years with him at some point. My daughter is six and when we just went through our ordeal with Juliette i was trying to prep her for the fact that Jules might be going to heaven. The look on her face was enough to make a stone cry.

[JoeRedskin]

I have been meaning to finish my story but have just not gotten around to it. Don’t worry Hog1, no tears in this one.

AMY – A yellow lab, Bronwyn’s half sister, with a disposition much more Trajan like than Abby or Brownwyn. She is like the others in that she is a beautiful dog, with a sweet lab face. A bit chunky - gravity is not her friend. She still loves to play and has a best friend in our newest addition (see below).

When Bronwyn died, Trajan was nine years old. B/c of Trajan’s age, we decided we would need to either (1) get a puppy quickly while Trajan was still mobile and could play; or (2) wait until after Trajan passed away. We decided on the former. Trajan was fairly sedate at this point and our son missed having a furry playmate. We went to our breeder (probably for the last time as she was now in her late 60’s) and were told that Bronwyn’s mom had just has a new litter. We went to see it and one of them toddled right over to Aidan almost immediately. We had our new dog.

When it came to naming her, Aidan wanted to call her Love because she was bringing a lost love back to the family. While appreciative of the sentiment, neither my wife nor I were keen on the name and, instead, sold Aidan on the name Amy as short for the French word for love - “amore”.

Amy, as I said, was much more subdued than Abby and Bronwyn. She was a playful puppy and she and Trajan would play the “I’ll (Trajan) sit here and watch you (Amy) run around me and, if you get to close, I will swat you to the ground and wrestle you” game. She loved Trajan and would curl up next to him. He tolerated her but seemed to appreciated that she was not the constant nuisance to him Bronwyn and Abby were. After Trajan passed away, Amy missed him for a while but did not mope as I have seen some dogs do on the loss of a companion dog. Soon enough, she seemed okay being the only dog in the house.

My son, while caring for her, has not bonded with her in any significant way. For him, she is just a dog. He likes and cares for her, but not she is simply not his friend or playmate in the way Bronnie was.

Amy is five now and, in many ways, has taken over from Trajan as being the “just there dog”. She is unobtrusive but present. While she enjoys playing and going for walks, she is just not the high energy dog that her sister was. She is also a bit chunky and, as I said, gravity is not her friend. A wonderful family dog, we are hopeful that she will be with us a long, long time.

ANGUS – A mixed breed, part lab, part pit bull, part greyhound and mostly stupid. Without a doubt the most athletic dog I have ever had. Equally doubtless is the fact that he is dumber than a post – by a long shot. Sweet and lovable like the village idiot, Angus has taken over the role of “high energy stupid” previously occupied by Abby and Bronwyn.

After Trajan died, I was pretty much ready to be a one dog family for a while. Amy was sweet, well behaved and, with two kids, perfect for our little house and family. My wife, however, soon wanted a second dog. She loved Amy but had always had two dogs and wanted a second “because the house felt empty”. One day while working a farmer’s market in Chestertown, MD, my wife had a rescue dog come and sit with her from the local SPCA booth. My 4 year old daughter fell in love with him. According to my wife, the dog was sedate, calm and gentle as kids climbed all over him. I got a phone call from my little girl – “Daddy, can we pleeeaaaaasssse take him home? I love him so much!”. Not having a heart of stone, I agreed - much as I did not want to.

Stupid just does not convey the level of vacuous existent in this dog. I tell people he only has two brain cells and, most of the time, one of them gets stuck behind his eyeball. Every now and again, he jars it loose by running head first into a wall. He is about the size of a full grown lab but without an ounce of fat – just muscle, skin and bone. He has two speeds: "crazy hyper bouncy dog" and "off". He can go from one to the other in a split second. Generally, this is not a problem. Sometimes, however, I foolishly believe he is in calm mode and I let him curl up in my lap (more on that in a moment). His eyes will be closed, he will be tightly curled up and for all intents and purposes, be dead to the world. Then, somewhere down the block a dog will bark, someone somewhere will knock on a door or a ball will bounce and instantaneously the 70lb dog will launch himself off my lap, travel 4-5 feet in the air and sprint full speed to the front door barking the entire way. Ten minutes later, he shows back up “Duh, it was nothing. Can I come back up??”. In a painful soprano voice, I tell him to go away and he is confused by this.

He has absolutely no sense of personal space and firmly believes he is a lap dog. He is constantly trying to get right next to you and gets a deeply pained look if you if you shoo him away. It’s as if he doesn’t believe you love him if you don’t let him sit his ass on your chest and put his face right next to yours. On New Year’s Eve this past year, he circled the table by crawling into each person’s lap without once touching the floor.

He is also the most athletic dog I have ever had. He has an amazing vertical leap. His broad jump is impressive as well - once he gets running, he can jump from one side of my recliner, clear it without touching me and land on the couch six feet away with ease. Fast does not begin to describe him – he has a beautiful stride at top speed. On top of that, he and Amy play vicious games of wrestling and chase which, to the uninitiated, look like something from Vick’s backyard. Often time she gives a little chase and he runs a full speed lap around the house just ‘cause.

All in all, he is a good dog. He too, like the Abby before him, is growing on me. My daughter adores him while my son tolerates him. To my wife he is Captain Springy Paws b/c of his energy. To me, he is the crazy that every house needs now and again. I guess we’ll keep him for a bit longer.

[JoeRedskin]

There you have it. My dogs. As I said at one point, they are all a part of me and I carry them forward with me each and every day. Each taught (and continue to teach) me something of the joy of life and the cost of caring. I can honestly say that I am better man because of them.

Otis, Trajan, Abby, Bronwyn - You are missed and loved still.

Amy, Angus, we hope you stay with us a long time and that we can return to you the unconditional love you give us each and every day.

Thanks all for reading.

[Dirtbag59]

I'm bummed. My neighbor is moving out and as a result I'm loosing my surrogate English lab. Bad times.