Ralph's Rags

     When my middle child, Adam, was almost two years old, and the oldest, Andrew, was close to five, our family became friends with an elderly couple in our church.  Their names were Ralph and Maisie.  They had a Cocker Spaniel named Rags.  The kids loved to go over to their house and see Rags.  At first, Rags was wary of two very little boys, but Ralph showed them the way to Rags' heart.  Dog biscuits.  It became routine when we came to visit for the boys to give Rags a dog biscuit.  Then he was their friend. 
     Ralph had cancer.  He had battled it before, but this time the doctors said there was nothing more that could be done.  Ralph lingered for many months and we visited regularly.  He didn't get up and move around much, and Rags was his constant companion.  I forgot to mention that Rags was a bit chubby.  Ralph liked to give him the dog biscuits just as much as the boys did. He gave them to him off and on throughout the day, every day.  Then when we came through the door, Ralph would call the boys over to him and hold out the box so they could give them to Rags, too. 

     Of course, Ralph passed away.  Maisie and Rags ended up moving several states away and we gradually lost touch.  Young as they were, both boys still remember giving dog biscuits to Rags.  It isn't so odd that a five year old would remember that time, but Adam is usually the one who brings it up.  He was only two, but the memory of that early interaction with the dog left a lasting impression. 

 

(This was written by my daughter, Karen.) 

Abby is Ten Years Old

     Recently, one of our beloved family pets passed away.  It was one of our cats and she was thirteen years old.  The story is too fresh and raw for me to get into detail.  When she died, I looked around at our remaining pets, including our dog, Abby.  I couldn't help but think to myself, "One day, they will go, too." The sadness the thought brought was overwhelming.
     We have placed stories of Abby on this blog before.  She is our yellow Labrador retriever.  She has been a vital member of our family for ten years and three months.  My boys have grown up with her.  She isn't tied to a stake outside.  She lives indoors.  She sleeps beside us.  Sometimes, we have to nudge her off of the couch so we will have a place to sit!  When we eat, she patiently sits nearby hoping for a handout.  She is well-behaved but very spoiled.  I don't mean to be depressing, but did you know that the life expectancy of a Labrador Retriever is ten to twelve years old?  I know that her time with us will end someday.  Perhaps it will not be for another ten years.  One can always hope!
     It was three weeks after the cat died before I had the chance to see my best human friend, Marie, and tell her what happened with the cat.  There were tears when I told the story and it brought up memories of lost pets in both of our lives over the years.  We talked about how much harder it is to see an animal get sick or die through our kids' eyes-- how we wish we could spare them the pain. 
     And then a curious thing happened.  My friend, Marie said, "I worry about your family when Abby goes," and Marie's eyes got watery. 
     I said, "I know......hey?....are you crying?"
     She nodded and wiped her eyes.  "I just know how much Abby means to you all and I know it will be hard for all of you.  Heck, I even love Abby."
     I said, "No, you can't cry, too.  What if I need you to be the one to take her to the vet if she needs to be put down?  Because we won't be able to do it."
     She said, "I will do it for you if it needs to be done.  I will do it for you.  Because I know it will be too hard for you,"  and she wiped her eyes again. 
     I was reassured of two things.  She knows how Abby really is a part of our family.  She can empathize with us because she has a family and pets of her own.  I realized that anyone who really knows us well knows just how valuable Abby is to us.  It's transparent.  It's REAL.  And the other realization...that Marie is a true friend.  How many of us can say we are so blessed?

(This was written by my daughter, Karen.)

The Primary Difference

     My son is a teenager now and I find myself entertained more and more by he and his friends.  They are coming up with their own ideas and opinions and developing into the people they are going to be the rest of their lives.  One particular friend of his, Jordan, who is 18, has us laughing all the time.  However, we were disappointed when he told us that he hates cats.  Hates cats?! "Why, Jordan, why?" we asked.  Cats are important in this pet-loving family.  This aversion to the feline species has always been difficult for us to comprehend.  But, that is just how it is with some people.  I have met more than one person in my thirty-seven years of life who profess to hating cats.  Oddly enough, they are usually the same people who wholeheartedly love dogs.  Well, Jordan explained himself to us in this way:
               You feed, clean up after, and care for a dog, and he thinks you are God.
               You feed, clean up after, and care for a cat, and he thinks, "I must be God."

     Hmmmm....he has a point.


(This was written by my daughter.  She also wrote the poem from the last post.)

Dogs in the Family vs. Cats in the Family

Our beloved dog

Is predictable

Is happy to see us

Tail wagging

Whole body wriggling

Can't contain his joy

--always

 

Our cat

*might* acknowledge us

*might* glance our way

Or not

May come up for a pat

May possible respond to a toy

--but not always

 

Some cats

I have known

Run to us in greeting

Utter a burp or meow

Rubs her whole body against us

Even wags her tail (though a bit lazily)

--but not always

 

Who can predict when the cat

Will feel like being sociable?

Or when she will be *above* us

We are beneath her

A cat tolerates you

A dog worships you happily

--always

 

I think cat lovers prefer cats

Because of the challenge

They enjoy the gamble

That is what is unique

And those who like dogs best

Simply won't put up with the unrest

 

 

-Karen Gillespie

A Beautiful Thing

     A friend of my daughter's moved in with her, her husband, and child.  Also making the move were more pets and her own child.  It is a beautiful thing when one helps out another in need.  All are animal lovers.  And what better way to show it than to display over the mantel place stockings.  These stockings do not include children's names or even theirs.  But it is their pet's names written on the stockings. 
     Across the fireplace mantel hangs stockings with these names:  Shadow (cat), Midnight (cat), Xena (cat), Snyder (dog), Bella (dog), Killer (turtle), and one for all the pet fish that simply says The Fish. 
     Christmas time is a time to show love not only to human kind, but to our pets.  I may not be one who hangs the stockings, but extra treats will be given to all my inside and outside cats. 

     I wish a Merry Christmas to all (human and pets alike).

Christmas

     Thanksgiving comes before Christmas.  But to retailers it seems to be passed by quickly.  They jump right into Christmas.  Even this year, Halloween seemed to be put on the back burner.  But then again, I started early Christmas shopping.  Waiting to the last minute puts a real financial burden on me.  Whether one shops early or shops late, depends on the individual.  Who cares when retailers start their ads and such?  For me, it is better to start early.  Where am I going with this?
     Christmas is truly a wonderful time of the year.  As we buy for family, friends, etc., let us not forget our four-legged member of the family.  Our dog has demonstrated all year long his/her loyalty and love for us.  At this time of year give a doggie bone.  Or better yet, hang a stocking filled with all kinds of dog toys.  After all, dogs sometimes act like people, too.
 

MERRY CHRISTMAS to dogs and dog lovers!

Papa and Fido

     Ever since I was a little girl all I could remember about my Grandfather(Papa) was his sitting beside the fireplace in his rocking chair.  And there on the floor beside him was his old dog Fido.  Both he and the dog were always there.  In the time I was visiting, I never saw either move.  My mother always said her father and Fido worked                                    "My father was a hard worker," Mother always said.  "And Fido worked just as hard.  He was always by his side.  The dog did no actual work, but he kept my father company as he himself worked his 100 and some odd acres of land."
     Piece by piece Papa began selling off his land.  He eventually lived off any saved money and social security.  He and Fido, as well as Grandmother (Mama), seemed to survive well enough in their senior years.  Although they had gone through a depression and such, they did seem to survive better than people today.  Things just didn't cost as much.  When people refer to the good old days, I think they really were the good old days.
     Fido was very loyal to his master.  He deserved the nice cozy spot also by the fireplace.  He had in the previous years proven himself as man's best friend.  Up at the break of day, off Papa and he prepared to go to the fields after both ate an early breakfast.  The breakfast Mama had prepared as her day began early also.  Even Fido had his table scraps.  I don't much think dog food was ever on his menu.  Fido was, after all, a member of the family.  Out the door now to the fields Papa went with Fido tagging behind.
     Farming back in earlier days may have seemed like a hard life.  But living in the city now, I would love to go back to the farm life.  It was a freedom to wander through the fields.  I would not mind having my loyal old dog Fido by my side.  You hope for a better life when growing up.  I couldn't wait to get off the farm.  Now, I realize that life wasn't so bad after all.  It would be nice to yell my own words, "Here Fido! Come here Fido!"