Doggie Dog World

SEEING THROUGH MY HEART

HEARTBREAK EYES

When we lose someone who is precious to us, our natural response is to cry. What happens when two beloved dogs have resided together for several years and one of them suddenly dies?
Do they mourn or cry?

Four years ago, I was the proud mom of a pair of sassy Airedale Terriers. Kelsey was my four year old wiry, spunky female and Duncan was a three year old lovable, sensitive male. The energetic duo were infamous for their naughty antics. They would spend hours outside, finding trouble at every turn and frolicking our wet lands. Both had their own beds in our room, where they slept side by side. Meal time was always an adventure, as they competed to see who could finish their food first. Tug of war toys were the favorite past time and they took tremendous joy in taunting the other.

Almost over night, Kelsey began to exhibit bizarre behavior. She developed a head tilt, and continually walked into walls or she hugged them as she moved about the house. Her appetite diminished as her condition worsened. Numerous trips to the vet and various antibiotics only seemed to make the situation worse. Out of desperation, she was sent to the University Veterinary Hospital. Kelsey was admitted and released several times and they administered every test imaginable. The doctors were baffled as she continued to deteriorate.

At the time, Duncan was beside himself as Kelsey continued to disappear and reappear as we tried to solve the mystery. Food had always been his passion, but even special treats couldn't appease him.

I remember my cell phone ringing one drizzly night as I was on my way home. The doctor from the university was calling with her final test results. She told me that all possibilities had been exhausted and she and her colleagues were stumped. Tears streamed down my face as I asked the dreaded question. "What should we do?" Kelsey was only getting worse, and she told me that if she were her dog, she would put her to sleep. We broke the news to the girls the next morning and we said our tearful goodbyes to Kelsey.

I never dreamed that we would have to euthanize a four year old dog. Duncan sulked around the house and couldn't comprehend why she wasn't returning home. He kept searching the house room by room and his ears perked up if he thought he heard her collar jingle. As I sat in my office which overlooked our cul-de-sac, I watched Duncan wistfully glance up the street, convinced she was returning home. Duncan had the saddest, most heartbreaking eyes when he looked at me and he had rightfully earned himself the nickname of Eeyore from "Winnie the Pooh".

If dogs can truly cry, I definitely saw tears in his eyes in the weeks following her death. Maybe it only appeared that way, or was I seeing my own grief mirrored in his eyes?

Lucky

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog, Lucky. Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing. Mary or Jim would go to Lucky's toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky's favorite toys. Lucky always stashed his finds in his toybox and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease, she was just sure it was fatal. She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her...what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary's dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won't understand that I didn't want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death. The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks.

Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable. Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn't even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap. Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn't come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed. When Mary woke for a second she couldn't understand what was wrong. She couldn't move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned!

While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love. Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every night. It's been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky? He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

Live every day to the fullest. Remember it is a blessing from God. The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the ones that care.

A WONDERFUL STORY ABOUT A BITTER OLD MAN AND AN OLD DOG

"Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!" my father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?". Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home, I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions and had often placed among the winners. The shelves in his house had been filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his 67th birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. A raindrop struck my cheek. I looked up into the gray sky. Somewhere up there was "God". Although I believed a Supreme Being had created the universe I had difficulty believing that God cared about the tiny human beings on this earth. I was tired of waiting for a God who didn't answer. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next afternoon I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the Mental Health clinics listed in the yellow pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs; all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons - too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen, a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the pen and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in, I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?" "Ma'am", he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog." I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled out onto the front porch. "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And, I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it!" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back into the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my Dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees, hugging the animal.

That was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then, late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene, but his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews13:2."Be not forgetful to entertain strangers". "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: .the sympathetic voice that had read the right article...Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter...his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father...and the proximity of their deaths. And I suddenly understood. I knew God had answered my prayers after all.

TWENTY REASONS WHY I LOVE DOGS

1. Dogs do not have problems expressing affection in public.
2. Dogs miss you when you're gone.
3. You never wonder whether your dog is good enough for you.
4. Dogs don't criticize your friends.
5. Dogs are very direct about wanting to go out.
6. Dogs do not play games with you -- except fetch (and they never laugh at how you throw).
7. Dogs don't feel threatened by your intelligence.
8. You can train a dog and it will even get your newspaper.
9. Dogs are easy to buy for.
10. You are never suspicious of your dog's dreams.
11. Gorgeous dogs don't know they're gorgeous.
12. Dogs understand what 'no' means.
13. Dogs don't need therapy to deal with their problems.
14. Dogs are happy with whatever you feed them.
15. You can force a dog to take a bath.
16. Middle-aged dogs don't feel the need to abandon you for a younger owner.
17. Dogs don't borrow your credit cards or cellular phone.
18. Dogs don't weigh down your purse with their stuff.
19. Dogs don't play video games.
20. Dogs don't drink beer or watch football.

TEN COMMANDMENTS FOR A RESPONSIBLE PET OWNER

1. My life is likely to last 10 to 15 years. Any separation from you will be very painful.
2. Give me time to understand what you want of me.
3. Place your trust in me-it is crucial for my well-being.
4. Don’t be angry with me for long, and don’t lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment. I HAVE ONLY YOU!
5. Talk to me. Even if I don’t understand your words, I understand your voice when it’s speaking to me.
6. Be aware that however you treat me, I’LL NEVER forget it.
7. Before you hit me, remember that I have teeth that could easily crush the bones in your hand, but I choose not to bite you.
8. Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I’m not getting the right food, I’ve been out in the sun too long, or my heart may be getting old and weak.
9. Take care of me when I get old. You, too, will grow old.
10. Go with me on difficult journeys. Never say, "I can’t bear to watch it", or "Let it happen in my absence." Everything is easier for ME if you are there. Remember, I LOVE YOU.

How Could You?
Copyright Jim Willis 2001 jwillis@bellatlantic.net

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.

You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a bellyrub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.

I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter.

It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.

She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

I AM YOUR PUPPY

I am your Puppy, and I will love you until the end of the Earth, but please know a few things about me.

I am a Puppy, this means that my intelligence and capacity for learning are the same as an 8-month-old child. I am a Puppy; I will chew EVERYTHING I can get my teeth on. This is how I explore and learn about the world. Even HUMAN children put things in their mouths. It's up to you to guide me to what is mine to chew and what is not.

I am a Puppy; I cannot hold my bladder for longer than 1 - 2 hours. I cannot "feel" that I need to poop until it is actually beginning to come out. I cannot vocalize nor tell you that I need to go, and I cannot have "bladder and bowel control" until 6 - 9 months. Do not punish me if you have not let me out for 3 hours and I tinkle. It is your fault. As a Puppy, it is wise to remember that I NEED to go potty after: Eating, Sleeping, playing, Drinking and around every 2 - 3 hours in addition. If you want me to sleep through the night, then do not give me water after 7 or 8 p.m. A crate will help me learn to housebreak easier, and will avoid you being mad at me. I am a Puppy, accidents WILL happen, please be patient with me! In time I will learn.

I am a Puppy, I like to play. I will run around, and chase imaginary monsters, and chase your feet and your toes and 'attack' you, and chase fuzzballs, other pets, and small kids. It is play; it's what I do. Do not be mad at me or expect me to be sedate, mellow and sleep all day. If my high energy level is too much for you, maybe you could consider an older rescue from a shelter or Rescue group. My play is beneficial, use your wisdom to guide me in my play with appropriate toys, and activities like chasing a rolling ball, or gentle tug games, or plenty of chew toys for me. If I nip you too hard, talk to me in "dog talk", by giving a loud YELP, I will usually get the message, as this is how dogs communicate with one another. If I get too rough, simply ignore me for a few moments, or put me in my crate with an appropriate chew toy.

I am a Puppy; hopefully you would not yell, hit, strike, kick or beat a 6-month-old human infant, so please do not do the same to me. I am delicate, and also very impressionable. If you treat me harshly now, I will grow up learning to fear being hit, spanked, kicked or beat. Instead, please guide me with encouragement and wisdom. For instance, if I am chewing something wrong, say, "No chew!" and hand me a toy I CAN chew. Better yet, pick up ANYTHING that you do not want me to get into. I can't tell the difference between your old sock and your new sock, or an old sneaker and your $200 Nikes.

I am a Puppy, and I am a creature with feelings and drives much like your own, but yet also very different. Although I am NOT a human in a dog suit, neither am I an unfeeling robot who can instantly obey your every whim. I truly DO want to please you, and be a part of your family, and your life. You got me (I hope) because you want a loving partner and companion, so do not relegate me to the backyard when I get bigger, do not judge me harshly but instead mold me with gentleness and guidelines and training into the kind of family member you want me to be.

I am a Puppy and I am not perfect, and I know you are not perfect either. I love you anyway. So please, learn all you can about training, and puppy behaviors and caring for me from your Veterinarian, books on dog care and even researching on the computer! Learn about my particular breed and it's "characteristics", it will give you understanding and insight into WHY I do all the things I do. Please teach me with love, patience, the right way to behave and socialize me with training in a puppy class or obedience class, we will BOTH have a lot of un together.

I am a Puppy and I want more than anything to love you, to be with you, and to please you. Won't you please take time to understand how I work? We are the same you and I, in that we both feel hunger, pain, thirst, discomfort, fear, but yet we are also very different and must work to understand one another's language, body signals, wants and needs. Some day I will be a handsome dog, hopefully one you can be proud of and one that you will love as much as I love you.

Love, Your Puppy

May be posted, reposted, cross-posted and used with permission as long as credit is given. Copyright 2000, by J. Ellis - Southern Shadows Rottweilers.

RAINBOW BRIDGE

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, he 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 and water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who have 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 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 begins to quiver. 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 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 friend, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you and your special friend cross the Rainbow Bridge together...

author unknown

A thought…

• If you can start the day without caffeine...
• If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains...
• If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles...
• If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it...
• If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time...
• If you can overlook it when those you love take it out on you when, through no fault of yours, something goes wrong...
• If you can resist treating a rich friend better than a poor friend...
• If you can face the world without lies and deceit...
• If you can say honestly that deep in your heart you have no prejudice against creed, color, religion or politics...
• If you can give love unconditionally without pressure or expectation...

Then, my friend... you are almost as good as your dog.

Letter to God

Dear God, Why do humans smell the flowers, but seldom, if ever, smell one another?
Dear God, When we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is it the same old story?
Dear God, Why are there cars named after the jaguar, the cougar, the mustang, the colt, the stingray, and the rabbit, but not ONE named for a dog? How often do you see a cougar riding around? We dogs love a nice ride! Would it be so hard to rename the 'Chrysler Eagle' the 'Chrysler Beagle! '?
Dear God, If a dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad dog?
Dear God, We dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent ID's, electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?
Dear God, More meatballs, less spaghetti, please.
Dear God, When we get to the Pearly Gates, do we have to shake hands to get in?
Dear God, Are there mailmen in Heaven? If there are, will I have to apologize?

Doggy Dictionary

BATH

This is a process by which the humans drench the floor, walls and themselves. You can help by shaking vigorously and frequently.

BICYCLES

Two-wheeled exercise machines, invented for dogs to control body fat. To get maximum aerobic benefit, you must hide behind a bush and dash out, bark loudly and run alongside for a few yards; the person then swerves and falls into the bushes, and you prance away.

BUMP

The best way to get your human's attention when they are drinking a fresh cup of coffee or tea.

DEAFNESS

This is a malady which affects dogs when their person want them in and they want to stay out. Symptoms include staring blankly at the person, then running in the opposite direction, or lying down.

DOG BED

DROOL

Is what you do when your persons have food and you don't. To do this properly you must sit as close as you can and look sad and let the drool fall to the floor, or better yet, on their laps.

GARBAGE CAN

A container which your neighbors put out once a week to test your ingenuity. You must stand on your hind legs and try to push the lid off with your nose. If you do it right you are rewarded with margarine wrappers to shred, beef bones to consume and moldy crusts of bread.

GOOSE BUMP

A maneuver to use as a last resort when the Regular Bump doesn't get the attention you require.....especially effective when combined with The Sniff.

LEAN

Every good dog's response to the command "sit !", especially if your person is dressed for an evening out. Incredibly effective before black-tie events.

LEASH

A strap which attaches to your collar, enabling you to lead your person where you want him/her to go.

LOVE

Is a feeling of intense affection, given freely and without restriction. The best way you can show your love is to wag your tail. If you're lucky, a human will love you in return.

SNIFF

A social custom to use when you greet other dogs. Place your nose as close as you can to the other dogs rear end and inhale deeply, repeat several times, or until your person makes you stop.

SOFAS

Are to dogs like napkins are to people. After eating it is polite to run up and down the front of the sofa and wipe your whiskers clean.

THUNDER

This is a signal that the world is coming to an end. Humans remain amazingly calm during thunderstorms, so it is necessary to warn them of the danger by trembling uncontrollably, panting, rolling your eyes wildly, and following at their heels.

WASTE BASKET

This is a dog toy filled with paper, envelopes, and old candy wrappers. When you get bored, turn over the basket and strew the papers all over the house until your person comes home.

Puppy's 12 Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas my puppy gave to me The Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the second day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Seven scraps of wrapping paper Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Eight tiny reindeer fragments Seven scraps of wrapping paper Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me My wreath in nine pieces Eight tiny reindeer fragments Seven scraps of wrapping paper Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed My wreath in nine pieces Eight tiny reindeer fragments Seven scraps of wrapping paper Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me Eleven unwrapped presents Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed My wreath in nine pieces Eight tiny reindeer fragments Seven scraps of wrapping paper Six yards of soggy ribbon Five chewed-up stockings Four broken window candles Three punctured ornaments Two leaking bubble lights And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me A dozen puppy kisses And I forgot all about the other eleven days.

((author unknown)

HOW TO TELL THE WEATHER

Go to your back door and look for the dog.

If the dog is at the door and he is wet, it's probably raining. But if the dog is standing there really soaking wet, it is probably raining really hard.

If the dog's fur looks like it's been rubbed the wrong way, it's probably windy.

If the dog has snow on his back, it's probably snowing.

Of course, to be able to tell the weather like this, you have to leave the dog outside all the time, especially if you expect bad weather.

Sincerely, The CAT

WHERE DO PETS COME FROM

A NEWLY DISCOVERED CHAPTER IN THE Book of Genesis has provided the answer to “Where do pets come from?”

Adam and Eve said, “Lord, when we were in the garden, you walked with us every day. Now we do not see you anymore. We are lonesome here and it is difficult for us to remember how much you love us.”

And God said, “No problem! I will create a companion for you that will be With YOU forever and who will be a reflection of my love for You, that you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how selfish or childish and unlovable YOU may be, this new companion will accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourselves.”

And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam and Eve. And it was a good animal. And God was pleased. And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and Eve and wagged his tail.

But Adam and Eve couldn't think of a name for this animal so God said, “No problem. Because I have created this new animal to be a reflection of my love for You, his name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG.”

And Dog lived with Adam and Eve and was a companion to them and loved them. And they were comforted. And God was pleased. And Dog was content and wagged his tail.

After a while, it came to pass that an angel came to the Lord and said, “Lord, Adam and Eve have become filled with pride. They strut and preen like peacocks and they believe they are worthy of adoration. Dog has indeed taught them that they are loved, but perhaps too well.”

And God said, “No problem, I will create for them a companion who will be with them forever and who will see them as they are. The companion will remind them of their limitations, so they will know that they are not always worthy of adoration.”

And God created CAT to be a companion to Adam and Eve. And Cat would not obey them. And when Adam and Eve gazed into Cat's eyes, they were reminded that they were not the supreme beings. And Adam and Eve learned humility.

And they were greatly improved. And God was pleased. And Dog was happy. And Cat didn't give a shit one way or the other!

CANINE NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS
Things I MUST remember:

1. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.
2. I do not need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm lying under the coffee table.
3. I will not roll my toys behind the fridge, behind the sofa, or under the bed.
4. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house.
5. I will not eat the cats' food, either before they eat it or after they throw it up.
6. I will stop trying to find the few remaining pieces of clean carpet in the house when I am about to get sick.
7. I will not throw up in the car.
8. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.
9. The little biscuits in the kitty-litter box, although tasty, are not food.
10. I will not eat any more Kleenex or napkins and then redeposit them in the backyard after processing.
11. The diaper pail is not a cookie jar.
12. I will not chew my human's toothbrush and not tell them.
13. I will not chew crayons or pens, especially not the red ones, which cause my people to think I am hemorrhaging.
14. When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down when it's raining outside.
15. We do not have a doorbell. I will not bark each time I hear one on TV.
16. I will not steal items of my mom's underwear and dance all over the backyard with them.
17. The sofa is not a face towel. Neither are mom & dad's laps.
18. My head does not belong in the refrigerator.
19. I will not bite the officer's hand when he reaches in for mom's driver's license and car registration.
20. I will not play tug-of-war with dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.
21. I will not eat mint-flavored dental floss out of the bathroom garbage; I do not want a string hanging out of my butt.
22. I will not use "roll around in the dirt" as an option after just getting a bath.
23. Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is not an acceptable way of saying hello.
24. I will not hump on any person's leg just because it seems like the right thing to do.
25. I will not fart in my owner's face while sleeping on the pillow next to their head.
26. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt across the carpet.
27. The toilet bowl is not a never-ending water supply and, just because the water is blue, it doesn't mean it is cleaner.
28. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch when company is over.
29. Suddenly turning around and smelling my butt can quickly clear a room.
30. The cat is not a squeaky toy, so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing.

guide dogs story Holiday Beginnings Christmas, 1998 copyright © 1998,
Jenine Stanley

Long ago and far away Or at least it seems so from today, A little ball of fur and feet, The Holiday season did gently greet.

This pup was special, soon to grow, So many things that he must know. He learned to stay then come and sit, And only minded baths a bit.

His legs grew long, his expression wise, As the world unfolded before his eyes. This pup saw stores and parks and malls. He walked through church and workplace halls.

All these things were done with care, For important work they did prepare. Dad and the kids walked him about, While Mom gave baths and took him out.

One day they went to "Puppy Camp" Where he performed just like a champ! He sat and stayed and came on cue, They said "a fine job he will do!"

This pup did not fear loud trucks, Or men with beards, or even ducks! He laid quite still at his family's side, And simply loved to "take a ride."

The family talked of one sad day, When their "wonder pup" would go away. They knew that this was meant to be, This well bred dog was meant to "see."

That special season came again, Up went the tree and fun began! This year the pup was old enough, To play with kids and other stuff.

Just a sniff, to see what's there! Boxes wrapped with such great care! But through the year this dog had learned, Many corrections he had earned.

He would not sniff or root around, Or pick things up from off the ground. He'd learned to stay out of the trash, But only after a big old crash!

Photos hugs and quiet tears, Filled the days through end of year. And then, right after New Year's Day, That once small pup went on his way.

Off to school that puppy went, To learn just what those trainers meant. "Forward." "Good dog." "Left."then "Right." He'd concentrate with all his might.

As months went by, the young dog moved, Through repetition he improved. He stopped at curbs and went around, The many obstacles trainers found.

Then through the city that smart dog worked, From speeding cars he backward jerked! The trainer told him "Find inside." This meant to look for doorways wide.

"Find the counter." "Find a seat." Then lie there at the trainer's feet. They bragged about him on and on. He'd passed the tests. He'd soon be gone!

The summer class was almost full, Yet no one there would like his pull. This dog would work the trainer thought, For someone who liked to walk, a lot!

That special person was finally found, Just as the snow lay on the ground. The class began December First, Some students said it was the worst!

It was hard to spend a month away, Coming home so close to Christmas Day. New dogs were handfuls that first week, This wouldn't due with the holiday peak!

The dog remembered trees and such, But thoughts of mischief he gave not much. This was just like any time, Behave yourself and you'd be fine!

Meeting his handler was quite a surprise, Though she looked pretty normal, what was wrong with her eyes? She was just like the trainer in the commands that she gave, But he soon discovered she couldn't see him behave.

She patted his back and his glossy fine head, Though she could not see his eyes, she could feel him instead.

They walked very fast with the trainer behind, This dog showing off all the things he could "find." And once they had walked everywhere that they could, The trainers pronounced this team was quite good!

The weekend before Christmas the class got decked out. There was hustle and bustle and rushing about! From his room on that Sunday, the dog could just hear, The sounds of his first family, ever so near.

His person had left him on his bed chain to go, Out to the living room so she could know, Who raised him from such an adorable pup, "What was he like then?" "Where did he grow up?"

Someday he knew he would see them again, His very first family, it just wouldn't be then. They did send him gifts that all smelled like their home, His toys and his bed and even a bone!

The last day of class was a quite sad affair. Before they went home all the students did share. Hugs and thanks to the trainers, emotions did show. "Now you're off on your own." "Now you're ready to go!"

The dog and his person went home in a plane, And throughout that first week he heard the refrain, "Leave it." "No, bad dog." "Stop sniffing, right now." He really did want to, but didn't know how.

For those first months he tested his person a bit, But as she grew to know him, he showed her his wit. They traveled on planes and buses and cabs, And when they weren't walking, on her he kept tabs.

He guided as she walked with her children again, Through malls and to college, around every bend. He liked her new husband and kids and the rest, But the dog knew that always, his person was best.

Each year that rolled by saw the holidays near, With so much more meaning because he was here. Small celebrations were held in his name, As "3", "4", and then "8" years passed since they'd trained.

But now he was tired and his pull was so slight. He laid on his rug from morning till night. Guiding was over, it was too hard to move, But life as a pet did see things improve. A new dog now walked where he had once been, And he happily rested a loving old friend.

This night before Christmas he lay by the tree, While the family took pictures, just where he should be. They knew that his days with them were not long, So to the Christmas Eve service, they took him along.

His person took out the old harness with care, And placed it around him then stood just right where, She'd found herself standing for walk after walk. To his ear she bent low and then started to talk.

"I love you, you know that?" she said with a tear. "And I realize next Christmas, you might not be here." One more time she commanded him, "Forward, outside." The dog lifted his head and his tail wagged so wide.

The family moved back and let the team go, This trip was so special, they all seemed to know. For that last night he guided her safe on the