Pets often have the last word (we knew that lol)
http://www.bentoncourier.com/article...s/w7living.txt
Pets often have the last word
I love dog tales, as well as dog tails. Bet that comes as a great big surprise to absolutely no one.
While at Benton City Hall this week, I was talking with Roma Cardin, a retired Benton schoolteacher (who taught my son, Paul) and a classy lady, who shared a story about her Boston terrier.
The dog suffered a knee injury and for a time had to be lifted up on its favorite chair. The knee is long healed, but doggie still likes to be hoisted by owner, it would seem.
Mrs. Cardin said she will come home and find the dog snoozing in its favorite chair. He had to get there on his own because no one else was there. When she's at home, however, the dog suddenly goes lame and begs to be lifted onto said chair.
Nice work if you can get it.
Years ago we had a great cocker spaniel that my husband named Barney. When Ed found him collapsed in a ditch during icy weather, the dog had a hurt paw and was exhausted from walking to wherever he was trying to get but apparently never did.
Of course we took him home and then to a veterinarian for treatment. The paw wasn't broken, but definitely raw and swollen from the dog's long trek. For a time it had to be bandaged and seemed to caused him some discomfort.
The paw healed. Barney could do whatever he cared to do - except when he happened to desire a little extra stroking, at which time he would hold up his paw, enhanced with a pitiful countenance, just as he did when it was injured.
Every so often one of us will think of this, hold up a hand and say, "I remember Barney."
He was a wonderful dog that died all too suddenly of a heart attack and very nearly broke the hearts of a whole family. Our pets give us so much love and we get to love them such a short while ... but that's the stuff of many stories.
Pat Gibson, whose smiling face and upbeat personality make her a delightful representative of Saline County Master Gardeners, said she has a dog that loves to take a bath, which is something I've never been privy to. This dog enjoys a bath so much that he hops into the tub on his own, Pat said.
This would be a novelty at our house. All of our dogs hate to be bathed. In fact, it takes both Ed and me to drag and then push Jessy, the 53-pound cocker spaniel into the tub. (She's not necessarily overweight. She's just really, really hairy and has a large bone structure. I told son Allen about the black markings on her tongue, indicating there might be some Chow in her heritage. His response? "Oh, year. It's the one she ate.")
The same situation exists for Maggie, our Basset hound-Dachshund-other unknown breeds-mix. Her weight is concentrated into one long, long body and I don't even know how much she weighs. I can't lift her onto the scales.
In the first place, I doubt that she could jump anywhere, much less into a bathtub. If she tried, she'd probably break one of her short, squatty legs - and one of them is already slightly deformed, But she is the best-natured dog you'd ever find and is the equivalent of Nana, the nursery-keeper St. Bernard in Peter Pan.
Once we do get any of the dogs into the tub, they're too intimidated to do anything else but submit to the inevitable.
Carolyn Waldorf, who works at Benton Veterinary Hospital, told this account of her daughter's dog, a beagle named Brady.
Carolyn and husband Ray were asked to dog-sit. When Daughter brought dog to their house, she also brought his bed and gave strict instructions that Brady was not to share the humans' sleeping quarters.
"He sleeps in his own bed every night," the Waldorfs were told.
When Ray retired, Brady hopped into his personal bed, which was placed near Carolyn and Ray's bed. Carolyn, who turned in a little later, was surprised to find Brady stretched out sound asleep beside her slumbering husband, who was unaware of his canine companion.
Carolyn let Brady be. But when the alarm sounded at 6 a.m. the next morning, Brady quickly hopped off the people's bed without disturbing anyone and snuggled into his own bed, with eyes closed. If anyone had seen him, it would have appeared he had slept the whole night through right there.
"I know he must do that every night," Carolyn said. "They (Daughter and husband) just don't think he sleeps with them, but I know he does. He's trained himself to get down in a hurry when he hears the alarm."
Sometimes what we don't know doesn't hurt a bit.
