(This was written by my daughter, Karen.)
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Buddy
Buddy was hit by a car about four weeks ago. He died instantly. He was loved by four families along this strip of road. We all cried and mourned him. He was a good dog. He was a handsome dog. He was only two years old. He will be missed.
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Happy Easter!
Happy Easter from the My Life with Dogs blog family. The black dog is my daughter Karen's dog and the other dog belongs to a friend of hers. The dogs are enjoying a lovely spring day together.
Monday, March 27, 2017
Two Waters
As children growing up on a farm, we had our chores to do. Farm work was easily acceptable, but it was the indoor chores that didn't' sit so well my with myself and my siblings. We had rooms to clean. But the most disliked chore was that of washing dishes. For a family of two parents and six children still at home, there were lots of dishes to wash. Two sisters had already moved out to go live in the city on their own. But they came home enough to add to the pile of dishes. They never got a turn washing dishes as they didn't live in the house. Mother and Daddy never got a turn either. Mother cooked meals and Daddy farmed.
For the longest time, I could not understand when my turn came around why I had so many dishes to wash. This went on for a long time until it was discovered that my older brother had something to do with it. His turn to wash dishes was before mine. He had been hiding the big lot of his dishes and bringing them out when my turn rolled around. When discovered, my mother put a stop to it. But, surprisingly, it was not my brother that showed anger. He merely laughed it off. One of the older sisters who had already left home pitched in her remarks. She went in defense of my brother.
"You're making too big a deal over nothing," she said. "Your brother was just playing with you." She continued, "At my house, dishes get washed with no problem. I put my dishes under Two Waters." She laughed, "He's my dog."
I washed dishes the same as always, but kept wondering if I could train our dog to wash dishes. As a little girl of seven, I was quite gullible at that age. I actually tried training our dog. I had no success come of it. I laugh to this day, recalling that I actually did believe she had a dog named Two Waters. When visiting her in the city, I never saw any dog. I found myself even washing her dishes.
I laugh at that whole incident today. Why did I fall for the Two Waters story? Although I am certain the dog never existed, I still hold memories of that dog that might have been.
For the longest time, I could not understand when my turn came around why I had so many dishes to wash. This went on for a long time until it was discovered that my older brother had something to do with it. His turn to wash dishes was before mine. He had been hiding the big lot of his dishes and bringing them out when my turn rolled around. When discovered, my mother put a stop to it. But, surprisingly, it was not my brother that showed anger. He merely laughed it off. One of the older sisters who had already left home pitched in her remarks. She went in defense of my brother.
"You're making too big a deal over nothing," she said. "Your brother was just playing with you." She continued, "At my house, dishes get washed with no problem. I put my dishes under Two Waters." She laughed, "He's my dog."
I washed dishes the same as always, but kept wondering if I could train our dog to wash dishes. As a little girl of seven, I was quite gullible at that age. I actually tried training our dog. I had no success come of it. I laugh to this day, recalling that I actually did believe she had a dog named Two Waters. When visiting her in the city, I never saw any dog. I found myself even washing her dishes.
I laugh at that whole incident today. Why did I fall for the Two Waters story? Although I am certain the dog never existed, I still hold memories of that dog that might have been.
Friday, February 24, 2017
Bear
I had a tree that I needed cut down and two others that needed to be topped. On referral from a co-worker, I found the man that would do the job. I knew nothing about him except the co-worker said he did a good job for her. The man came giving an estimate that I accepted. With him, he brought his dog with him. In the passenger side of his truck, the dog sat. It is not uncommon for people to drive around with a dog staring out the window. But drive around with one on jobs, it was my first time to witness this. But this dog was evidently the man's close companion or family. When he and two others came to cut the trees, the dog on a leash was tied in my front yard. When they went around to the back yard to cut down an entire tree, the dog was led on leash around there and once again tied so as not to run off.
It had taken the man three days when actual work began to finish the job. Every day, the dog came too. It was now obvious to me that the dog and man were never apart. I was curious and so asked the breed and name of the dog. I really guessed myself correctly on the breed. It was a Pomeranian. It was a male and his name was Bear. Not knowing the correct spelling of the breed, I went to the internet. There I found the correct spelling and more information. The type of Pomeranian was Teddy Bear. How appropriate it seemed as this appeared to be where the dog's name came from.
I knew nothing personal about the man. He was there to do a job and not to make friends. I didn't know the dog was to come every day. But I can only imagine why. The dog possibly could have filled a void in the man's life. I was only guessing. The dog very well may have replaced loneliness in the man's life. It sounded like a good possibility to me. People do become attached to their pets.
The work was finished and the man has since gone. But the memory stays of the dog as he watched his owner and two others cut trees. Bear would surely now travel on to other tree cutting jobs. His master seemed to firmly believe in, "Take your pet to work with you."
It had taken the man three days when actual work began to finish the job. Every day, the dog came too. It was now obvious to me that the dog and man were never apart. I was curious and so asked the breed and name of the dog. I really guessed myself correctly on the breed. It was a Pomeranian. It was a male and his name was Bear. Not knowing the correct spelling of the breed, I went to the internet. There I found the correct spelling and more information. The type of Pomeranian was Teddy Bear. How appropriate it seemed as this appeared to be where the dog's name came from.
I knew nothing personal about the man. He was there to do a job and not to make friends. I didn't know the dog was to come every day. But I can only imagine why. The dog possibly could have filled a void in the man's life. I was only guessing. The dog very well may have replaced loneliness in the man's life. It sounded like a good possibility to me. People do become attached to their pets.
The work was finished and the man has since gone. But the memory stays of the dog as he watched his owner and two others cut trees. Bear would surely now travel on to other tree cutting jobs. His master seemed to firmly believe in, "Take your pet to work with you."
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Sasha-- The Dog that had Dementia
This post was from almost two years ago:
I thought it was important to repost this whole story because it has so much information on the topic of Dog Dementia. It is a real condition. And the reason behind it coming up again--- it is with great sadness that I tell you that Sasha passed away last week.
My cousin, Marisa, is heartbroken, of course. Sasha was nearly 16 years old and had lived a long life. Sasha had been spoiled greatly and was the oldest pet Marisa had ever had. She knew, as all dog lovers know, that Sasha couldn't live forever and was very very old. She still got around pretty good despite her dementia, and she only had three legs, by the way. I never mentioned that. That's another story. It was just such a part of who she was, I actually kind of forgot. She was hit by a car when she was probably 9 or 10 years old. She was one tough dog. And she also lived with numerous cats over the years. She would wrestle with them, sleep with them, and most importantly, tolerate them. Sasha came to the family when Marisa's children were almost teenagers. They grew up and left Sasha behind. One time, Sasha disappeared for two whole weeks and was found in the next town over! What a life she lived. Wouldn't you just love to hear Sasha's life story from Sasha's herself?
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Doggie Dementia
A year and a half ago, my cousin Marisa called me. We don't talk frequently, but we do touch base from time to time. She told me that her dog had been acting strange. Her dog, Sasha, had just turned thirteen. Sasha was howling all night long and refusing to eat. Marisa took Sasha to the vet and was told that Sasha is physically healthy, but that her symptoms all pointed to Dementia. It is just like dementia in humans....it is part of some dog's aging process (meaning not all dogs get dementia).
I will be honest with you. I couldn't believe what my cousin was telling me. Dementia...? In a dog? Well I never heard of such a thing! I don't know why I had such a hard time believing it. Sometimes I get suspicious of vets-- like maybe they didn't know what was wrong with the dog, so they just made something up! Here it is a year and a half later and Sasha has stopped the all-night-long-howling, but other things have gotten worse. She refuses to eat sometimes. My cousin will often purchase cheeseburgers for her from the local fast food joint because that is one of the things she will eat. The only other thing she will eat is just one specific brand and flavor of dog food. Sasha sometimes stands in a corner and stares at a wall or shakes like she is cold for what seems like an endless amount of time. The funniest story my cousin has told me is a recent development. Sasha will exit the house through the doggie door, but then stand on the outside and bark to be let back in. She used to go in and out all on her own, but somehow she has forgotten that she can go back in the same way she went out.
If I hear about it enough, I will eventually look up a condition or something I have never heard of on the computer. I looked up dementia in dogs just a few days ago. Surprise, surprise, it is a real condition. I guess I just haven't spent enough time around dogs to have known any better. The proper term for it is Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, or CCD. Some of the symptoms I have found are:(1) becomes lost around the home in places that used to be familiar, (2) has trouble using doors or even stairways, (3) often has accidents in the house when that has not been an issue before, (4) can be found trembling, shaking, staring aimlessly, or wandering aimlessly in odd corners of the home, and (5) becomes more hesitant of food and water. These are just a few. If you are a skeptic like me, look it up on the web. There are countless articles on the topic.
I will be honest with you. I couldn't believe what my cousin was telling me. Dementia...? In a dog? Well I never heard of such a thing! I don't know why I had such a hard time believing it. Sometimes I get suspicious of vets-- like maybe they didn't know what was wrong with the dog, so they just made something up! Here it is a year and a half later and Sasha has stopped the all-night-long-howling, but other things have gotten worse. She refuses to eat sometimes. My cousin will often purchase cheeseburgers for her from the local fast food joint because that is one of the things she will eat. The only other thing she will eat is just one specific brand and flavor of dog food. Sasha sometimes stands in a corner and stares at a wall or shakes like she is cold for what seems like an endless amount of time. The funniest story my cousin has told me is a recent development. Sasha will exit the house through the doggie door, but then stand on the outside and bark to be let back in. She used to go in and out all on her own, but somehow she has forgotten that she can go back in the same way she went out.
If I hear about it enough, I will eventually look up a condition or something I have never heard of on the computer. I looked up dementia in dogs just a few days ago. Surprise, surprise, it is a real condition. I guess I just haven't spent enough time around dogs to have known any better. The proper term for it is Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, or CCD. Some of the symptoms I have found are:(1) becomes lost around the home in places that used to be familiar, (2) has trouble using doors or even stairways, (3) often has accidents in the house when that has not been an issue before, (4) can be found trembling, shaking, staring aimlessly, or wandering aimlessly in odd corners of the home, and (5) becomes more hesitant of food and water. These are just a few. If you are a skeptic like me, look it up on the web. There are countless articles on the topic.
My cousin, Marisa, is heartbroken, of course. Sasha was nearly 16 years old and had lived a long life. Sasha had been spoiled greatly and was the oldest pet Marisa had ever had. She knew, as all dog lovers know, that Sasha couldn't live forever and was very very old. She still got around pretty good despite her dementia, and she only had three legs, by the way. I never mentioned that. That's another story. It was just such a part of who she was, I actually kind of forgot. She was hit by a car when she was probably 9 or 10 years old. She was one tough dog. And she also lived with numerous cats over the years. She would wrestle with them, sleep with them, and most importantly, tolerate them. Sasha came to the family when Marisa's children were almost teenagers. They grew up and left Sasha behind. One time, Sasha disappeared for two whole weeks and was found in the next town over! What a life she lived. Wouldn't you just love to hear Sasha's life story from Sasha's herself?
(This was posted by my daughter, Karen.)
Thursday, December 22, 2016
MERRY CHRISTMAS
MERRY CHRISTMAS
AND
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
2016 has been a year of new pets and new friends. We can't wait to see and share with you more about our adventures in 2017.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
A Season of Thankfulness--Dog Edition
It's November. Today is actually Thanksgiving! Every year when November 1st arrives, I start hearing and seeing talk of thankfulness. "What are you thankful for?" On facebook, there is a challenge to write a post every day about one thing you are thankful for. This is great! We should always be looking for what we are thankful for and acknowledging God for his gifts. Life can get so busy that we forget to do so. So when November arrives, it is nice to be reminded to look around and realize how precious our lives are.
I would like to say, for the purpose of this Dog blog, that I am thankful for our family's newest member, Lewis. Lewis came to live with us on October 14th. He was a pound puppy; He came from the animal shelter. My husband adopted him and brought him home as a surprise. We were certainly surprised.
The shelter told him that Lewis was a black lab mix. I'm here to tell you that Lewis is no lab. Just last week, we had him at the vet and the vet told us he guessed Lewis was part terrier. After professing to be "big dog" lovers, it seems we have a small to medium sized dog. He is only 15 weeks old at this point, so we really have no idea what he is going to turn out looking like.
I am starting to like Lewis. He has some issues that we need to work through. I think they are just normal puppy issues, but I had forgotten what it was like to have a puppy. All in all, he is a good boy. He likes to snuggle up with us, which is so unlike our last dog. Our last dog liked us, but didn't care much for hugs. But universally, there is nothing more wonderful than when you have been gone and you return to a dog wriggling with complete happiness when he sees you.
I would like to say, for the purpose of this Dog blog, that I am thankful for our family's newest member, Lewis. Lewis came to live with us on October 14th. He was a pound puppy; He came from the animal shelter. My husband adopted him and brought him home as a surprise. We were certainly surprised.
The shelter told him that Lewis was a black lab mix. I'm here to tell you that Lewis is no lab. Just last week, we had him at the vet and the vet told us he guessed Lewis was part terrier. After professing to be "big dog" lovers, it seems we have a small to medium sized dog. He is only 15 weeks old at this point, so we really have no idea what he is going to turn out looking like.
I am starting to like Lewis. He has some issues that we need to work through. I think they are just normal puppy issues, but I had forgotten what it was like to have a puppy. All in all, he is a good boy. He likes to snuggle up with us, which is so unlike our last dog. Our last dog liked us, but didn't care much for hugs. But universally, there is nothing more wonderful than when you have been gone and you return to a dog wriggling with complete happiness when he sees you.
(This was written by my daughter, Karen.)
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