Posted on 02/01/2007 10:04:44 AM PST by grellis
I doubt if I'll be able to post this tomorrow...
love
He's as lively as he's been in years. Problem is, they trimmed his claws while he was at the vet, and I got used to being able to box him without fear of getting shredded.
Found out the hard way that his claws were back to normal.
Damn, that bled like a bitch.
You are a champ, backhoe! I looked through your pictures of Taffy, she certainly looked like a keeper!
I do believe that if I am lucky enough to enter that bright, shining light one day, it'll be Duke, Max, Wrenfield, and Buddy who'll greet me first. I always find comfort just thinking that...
Friend, I have heard Priests, and preachermen, and assorted scholars argue about why animals have no soul, but we do, since I was a child... and I think they are full of hogwash.
We're all formed out of the heart of matter that came from a second-generation star.
All made much the same way, along the same lines.
If they don't have souls, neither do we.
And if they do- which I believe- we'll see them again, on the other side of the thing we call life.
Just by accident found this...
Here she is in the cab of my wrecker at age four:
Everything went okay at the vet--as well as can be expected, anyhow. I can't believe how fast it was. Our cat keeps sniffing around where Cheyenne's bed was, where her food dish was. I noticed just a little while ago that, already, there are no dog-hair bunnies anywhere. With all the wind and snow we've had the past two days, all sign of Cheyenne is gone from the backyard, too. It's weird, how absent she is.
Why did God have to make dogs so damn loveable?
Taffy seemed to be part chow ( purple spots on the tongue ), part spitz or husky ( curled tail and ruffled back side of hind legs ), part German Shepard ( those ears and muzzle ), and then, probably every other dog breed in the neighborhood thrown in just to make a good mutt.
Neighbor, I can't presume to tell you what's the best thing to do- I know you grieve for your friend Cheyenne- but after a few days and seemingly endless empty, quiet nights with Taffy gone, we went to animal control, and got this varmint:
Cole, the Canine Circular Saw:
It's sure not quiet around here any more. Pee, dump, chew, chew, bark. Throw sneaker. Snooze ( for five minutes ) then Pee, dump, chew, chew, bark.
Like babies and kittens, God made 'em so cute, that we would not eat them...
Never say never. I took all of Cheyenne's effects to the Humane Society last Friday afternoon and, on a whim more than for any other reason, looked at the adoptable dogs. There were four three month old pups, litter mates, up for adoption--two males, two females. Black lab/St Bernard crosses. I called today--just one left, a female. I'm going in tomorrow night to start the adoption process.
No dog on earth is ever going to replace Cheyenne but I know there are loads of them out there that I can love just as much.
Thanks- they say he's a "collie mix," I say he's a mutt-- but they make the hardiest dogs.
Bless you for taking another furry child- they need you so much, love you so dearly, and want so little in return.
There's no better friend.
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