Category: Pets

Peewee R.I.P. — Peewee passed away yesterday. The website’s mascot had been diagnosed with cancer two months ago but there was an expectation he would make it until the spring. A malignant tumor began growing on his tongue, however, making it difficult to eat and, more significantly, to drink.

He’d lap his bowl for minutes without taking in much water.

He was on strong medication for the other cancer and did not seem to be in much pain. He still wagged his tail when he walked and enjoyed our company.

He was put down about 5 p.m. at 4 Paws Veterinary Clinic in Springfield.

He was a Schipperke mix and rescued as a pup from the Delaware County SPCA. He was about 11 years old.

He will remain the site’s mascot.

Peewee R.I.P.

Sad News Bad Dog — We just received some bad news. Our world famous bad dog mascot Peewee has cancer.

The vets give him about eight months and say it will be generally pain free with medication.

We intend to make them a pretty good eight months. As bad as he is — destroying rugs, attacking shoes, escaping from a cheap motel in Virginia, urinating on one’s leg when one doesn’t feed him turkey as fast as he feels one should at the Thanksgiving table — he is still easy to love.

We’d like to thank Dr. Kathryne Daniel at 4 Paws Veterinary Clinic in Springfield for the compassionate and wise advice which she has provided.

Yes, Peewee  is world famous.

Sad News Bad Dog

Equal Opportunity Dog Story — A sign was placed in an office window that read: “HELP WANTED – Must be a speed typist and have computer skills. Successful applicant must be bilingual. We are an Equal Opportunity Employer.”
A short time later a German Shorthaired Retriever dog trotted up to the window, saw the sign and went inside. He looked at the receptionist, wagged his tail, then walked over to the sign, looked at it, whined and pawed the air. The receptionist called the office manager. He was surprised to see a canine applicant but as the dog looked determined he was shown into the manager’s office.
Inside, the dog jumped up on a chair and stared at the manager expectantly. The manager said, “I can’t hire you. The sign says you must be able to type.” The dog went to the typewriter and proceeded to quickly type a perfect business letter. He took out the page and trotted over to the manager, gave it to him, then jumped back up on the chair.
The manager was stunned, but told the dog, “That was fantastic, but I’m sorry. The sign clearly says that whoever I hire has to be good with a computer.” The dog went to the computer and proceeded to demonstrate his’ expertise with various programs, produced a sample spreadsheet and database, and then presented them to the manager.
The manager was dumbfounded! He said to the dog, “Look, I realize that you are a very intelligent applicant and have fantastic talent, but you’re a dog. No way could I hire you.” The dog jumped down and went to the sign in the window and pointed his paw at the words, “Equal Opportunity Employer.” The exasperated manager said, “Yes, I know what the darn sign says. But the sign also says you have to be bilingual.”
The dog looked him straight in the eye and said, “Meow.”

Hat tip Pet Place

Equal Opportunity Dog Story

Here is a sad dog story and a warning about not abandoning your best friend.

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 belly rub. 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 anymore 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 home comings, 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 you 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 upon 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 good-bye 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.

The End

Sad Dog Story

It appears that D E V O applies to dogs as well.

A blogger using the handle of Mus Musculus, Ph. D.  took illustrations from Dogs of all Nations written in 1915 and placed them side by side with contemporary examples.

It speaks for itself.

The noble German shepherd then  could scale an 8.5 foot fence and now can’t, Mus notes.

He also has examples of English bulldogs, dachshunds, boxers and bull terriers, basset hounds, Saint Bernards and pugs, all of which now appear to be freakish mutants compared to the attractive creatures they once were. The modern animals are more inclined to disease and other maladies, the blogger says.

The blog post is dated Sept. 9, 2012 albeit the MailOnline, a major British website,  carried an article based on it late 2013.

Mus musculus is the scientific classification for house mouse.

Dog Devolution Illustrated

Old Dogs Need Rest

Courtesy of Truthbook.com

An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard.

I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home and was well taken care of.

He calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on his head; he then followed me into my house, slowly walked down the hall, curled up in the corner and fell asleep. An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out.

The next day he was back, greeted me in my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in the hall and again slept for about an hour.

This continued off and on for several weeks.

Curious, I pinned a note to his collar: ‘I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is and ask if you are aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.’

The next day he arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar: ‘He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3 – he’s trying to catch up on his sleep..

Can I come with him tomorrow?

Old Dogs Need Rest

If a dogs were teachers you would learn things like:
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you’re not.
If what you want lies buried, dig for it till you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY !

Courtesy of PinkPoodleMaconga.com

 

Dogs Were Teachers