yourpetgiftstories

DON'T LEAVE YOUR WING MAN

2008-08-16T08:36:00.000-07:00

In the fall of 1998 my grandparents, Kenneth and Mary Cunningham adopted a
dog from a shelter. My grandparents were from Rippey, Iowa and you
personally came to visit their farm to assure that the dog would have a safe
and loving home. Little did you know that our family has always been animal
lovers and would only take an animal that we could appropriately care for, you
quickly saw that and approved the adoption. The dog that was adopted was
originally called "Arnold" about an 18 month old Rot/Great Dane mix. He was
an intimidating looking dog.

Once Arnold came home to our farm we quickly found that there wasn't a mean bone in that dog's body and we changed his name to "Rocky."
Rocky had a very special relationship with my grandfather, who at the time
was 80. Where ever grandpa went, Rocky went too. He would get so excited
when grandpa would get home, he could hardly contain himself, quickly
reverting back into a puppy-like state.
Rocky was very protective of all the great-grandkids that were always
underfoot. The only thing he would get worked up about was if grandpa may
have been giving someone else a little too much attention, he would get a nose to
the side, just to remind him his "baby" needed his attention too.
Rocky, being a big dog, did have some issues with his hips, but it never
really slowed him down. My grandfather's health began to slowly go down hill
about a year and a half ago and with that we also started to see Rocky
decline.
My grandfather had a bacterial infection that caused him to lose weight and
Rocky lost weight right along side of him. The vet told us there wasn't
anything wrong with him. But did tell us he thought he was just really
connect to grandpa.
Grandpa went into the hospital the Sunday after Thanksgiving. He was moved
to hospice on December 12. The hospice allowed us to bring Rocky to visit
grandpa. Although grandpa wasn't quite alert, Rocky immediately went to the
bedside. We placed grandpa's hand on his head and he stroked his dog. When
his hand was placed back under his blanket, he fought to get it back out to
reach for Rocky. He knew he was there.
My grandfather passed away on December 19. The next night Rocky didn't come
back in after being let out. Our other dog (A lovely black lab, Tango)
returned and they were never separated, was told to go back out and find him
and "you never leave your wing man." (A quote from the movie Top Gun, as there
has to be some humor through our sadness and grief). The family searched for
Rocky for hours, but he wasn't to be found. We all figured that he was out
looking for his grandpa. Well, he did come home several hours later, in the
middle of the night. The entire family received middle of the night phone
calls with the good news.
Our beloved grandfather was buried on Saturday December 22, 2007. We knew
that Rocky wasn't right, as he had vomited the night before. We returned
home from the funeral services shortly before 1pm. Rocky was in the living room
on his bed and it was obvious that his time was near. My mother laid with
him on the floor, holding him as he took his last breath. She said it was
like she was here pushing him to the other side and grandpa was on the other side
calling him home to him.
There is peace in the fact that grandpa and Rocky are together, although it
is still hard on all of our hearts. Someone later said that maybe the night
after grandpa died and Rocky was missing that maybe he wasn't really missing
at all, but that he was out looking for his wing man, because grandpa was
really the lost wing man.
Thank you for being such a wonderful organization. The love and joy that
Rocky brought to our lives and to our dear grandpa is really beyond words.
God only knows where Rocky would have ended up if the ARL hadn't been there to
take him in until he could find his way to us.
Thank you for allowing me to share our family's story with you. I've also
attached a picture of Rocky that was taken in August 2007, grandpa is
standing off to the side. Not the best picture in the world, but Rocky had been out
chasing a stick, okay really a big branch, that afternoon. They did always
enjoy sitting in the hot afternoon sun.
Jenni Eiteman, granddaughter of Kenneth Cunningham

FUN SCREEN SAVER LINKS

2008-08-16T07:29:00.000-07:00

Here are some fun links for
PET SCREEN SAVERS
From Sheila Vine
ENJOY
HONEY

http://www.americangreetings.com/downloads/display.pd?prodnum=3129550&path=102481

http://www.download.com/My-Dog-Screensaver/3000-2385_4-10120680.html?tag=nl.e415

http://www.americangreetings.com/downloads/display.pd?prodnum=3130672&path=102481

ON GUARD

2008-08-16T07:12:00.000-07:00

Our Shih Tzu Brandi thought she should just keep an eye on these little raccoons until their mother came back to pick them up.

Mike and Dianne Beaufeaux

NOT MINE

2008-08-16T07:08:00.000-07:00

This was the reaction our male Shih Tzu Beaux had when we showed him the puppies he had fathered. “Not mine!”

Mike and Dianne Beaufeaux

MOE THE RUN-A-WAY

2008-08-13T19:03:00.000-07:00

Our female Siberian Husky loves adventures. When my husband and I moved into a new home we chained her up on a long leash in the back yard while we worked in the house. Next thing I know the phone is ringing and when I answer, the lady on the other line says she is from the store Bath and Body Works and they have my dog. She had gotten off her chain and run towards the mall and then went into the stores back door that they had left open.

Feeling ashamed that I didnʼt even know she was gone, I got in the car and drove the four blocks to the mall to pick her up. She was having a great time with all the employees at the store but when she saw me she cowered because she knew she was naughty. I was again feeling ashamed because it now looked like I not only donʼt watch my dog but beat her as well. I ended up having to drag her to the car to take her home. As she gets older Moe likes to stay closer to home and we enjoy taking her on adventures with us instead!

Carrie Bea Ziolkowski

The First and Last Kiss with a Wag as if to say Goodbye

2008-08-11T06:13:00.000-07:00

This story begins on June 16, 2004, the day our son Reese was born, the day all of our lives changed. Prior to this event our family consisted of my wife, Terri and “her” two female Shi Tzu’s, Madison who was eleven years old and Monroe who was six years old. As noted these two dogs were my Terri’s as she had both of them prior to me meeting her and even though I was an animal lover there was something about those two dogs that drove me crazy. I eventually got used to them and yes even fell in love with them, as they were definitely part of the package of marriage. But when Reese came along the dogs changed. They were no longer the main attractions in the household, as most pet owners know happens when little ones arrive. With this new tiny arrival Madison and Monroe were intrigued when he finally arrived home, probably because he had tubes coming out of him and he was so small, even smaller than them. You see, Reese was born 9 weeks early and he stayed in the hospital for 6 weeks and when he finally came home they realized “this little thing with tubes” was the reason the dog’s lives had been different for the past few weeks.
They first sniffed but to my amazement the youngest Monroe knew she had competition so she did her best to ignore Reese and Madison was just unsure of what to think of him so she became very stand offish. Madison was the matriarch of the household, she was black and white in color, and therefore she was usually the referee of any scuffles in the house.
As all three aged together there was a bit more closeness that would take place but still Monroe would just ignore or turn her head away from Reese while Madison would let Reese get close but quickly run away. When she would run you could tell Reese was frustrated that this furry animal would not let him close.
One late summer evening Madison began to act differently towards Reese. She allowed him to get closer and she wouldn’t move away as fast. She still appeared to be in high spirits but just would not run. The next couple of days we didn’t really see a big change and then she began to fade very quickly and it was in a matter of 24 hours due to a heart condition.
What was the most amazing part of this entire relationship between Reese and Madison took place on the last morning. Madison had become very weak and unable to walk on her own and she even lost control of her bladder through that night. As she lay on the floor near the kitchen around the corner of the couch where Reese was sitting, Terri and I began to talk about what to do for her. She had been a part of Terri’s life for 12+ years, mine for seven+ years and for all of Reese’s life but we knew what had to be done. During that time Reese began to crawl from behind the couch closer to where Madison was lying down. As he came around the corner, you could see him smile as he saw her. He started to crawl faster as he thought he would be able to get closer to her. Then, Madison found all of her courage and energy left in her weak heart to stand up, walk a few steps, look Reese right in the face, wag her tail, give him his first kiss from her, as though to say goodbye and then she laid down again. Reese had a huge smile on his face, even laughed some and it is a memory of his little black and white dog, Madison that will live forever.
Later that morning we took Madison to Dr. Ray Goodroad, our Vet and she had to be put to sleep. Both Terri and I cried like babies. I still remember though that Reese got his first and last kiss and the wag of her tail as if to say goodbye.
We have since moved to Florida from Wisconsin and we go on family walks often. Whenever Reese sees a little dog that looks anything like Madison he says how Madison is now in “doggy heaven”. He also says how he does not want Monroe to go there anytime soon. Monroe has really become accustomed to Reese and loves him because every night before he goes to bed he goes to her gives a hug and kiss and tells her he loves her.
We all miss you MadisonJ

Derek Baron

The Persistent British Bulldog- The Bulldog Spirit

2008-07-19T08:03:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, a friend of mine decided to buy a dog. She already had cats and rabbits and was a complete animal person. She wanted a dog, which would fit in with their life style and would not need a lot of exercise to be happy. As a good Yorkshire girl, she chose the ‘British Bulldog’. She bought a beautiful female pedigree puppy. Ellie was a fabulous dog, playful and happy, and with a lot of skin to grow into. The puppy grew and settled down into the family, she ate her meals and grew, and did not chase the cats, oh and she grew. This sounds like an ideal situation and it was except that the dog was on her own for a lot of the day. My friend went to work and their new companion did not impress the cats. My friend felt very guilty about leaving the puppy each morning.

Therefore, she made a decision, she went back to the breeder and bought another puppy. This was a distant relative of the first one and so everyone assumed it would be a clone and have the say calm, friendly, easy- going nature. Well it was not quite like that.

The new puppy was much more excitable and energetic than the first one. She was much more confident as there was already another dog in the family and Duffy wanted to play with everything.

As a puppy when out in the garden she often followed the cats, at a distance watching them and trying to do the things they did. Her main obsession was the cat flap. These cats were put outside, just as she was, but they could get back in whenever they wanted. Duffy thought that she should be able to do the same but even as a puppy, she could not work out how to get through. Nevertheless, she had that ‘Bulldog’ character and she kept trying, and trying. First, she would put her paw through and then try to follow it with the head, when this did not work the tip of the nose went through and then she could just insert one paw. But nothing more, that was the limit.

As her strength and bulk grew, she realised that if she charged some of the doors in the house they would open for her. But, she had to take a run at then and then ram them with her forehead. In fact she got many of the things she wanted by ramming doors and the back of peoples legs and the food bags and Ellie. She tried the cat flap, she ran at the door and rammed it, the door splintered, and the cat flap fell out. Unfortunately, Duffy could still not get in the house because the hole was too small.

The door and the cat flap were replaced by reinforced larger models and peace reigned for a while. One sunny summer’s day she and Ellie were outside making sure the cats behaved correctly and barking at birds etc, when there was a wonderful smell. It was coming from the kitchen my friend was cooking bacon for bacon sandwiches.
The dogs were right at the top of the garden and it was a long garden. Duffy started to run; she built up speed until she was going as fast as a bulldog can. Then she rammed the cat flap. It groaned, and gave a little, encouraged by this sound and by the bacon smell; she turned around and ran back up the garden.

Her head went down and the speed was built up again. Four huge paws thundering down the garden path and then Wumph! She made it; her whole head was through the cat flap. The shoulders would not go through the door was too strong. She backed up and there was an enormous creaking sound as the cat flap detached itself from the door, it was stuck on her ears.

Unfortunately, no one had a camera at that moment, to tell the truth it would have been a very shaky picture because the whole household was convulsed with laughter. Duffy was running around the lawn with her head firmly wedged into the cat flap. Her Bulldog spirit was not dimmed but she was a very confused dog.

Sheila Vine

Miss Kitty

2008-06-30T15:25:00.000-07:00

Who said that feral cats cannot be domesticated? One day in May, l996, a beautiful gray and white Angora cat with a full bushy tail made her appearance on my front lawn. As I approached she would move away, but not before I noticed that she had lost her left eye. She would not come near food until I was out of sight, and I realized her reluctance to come anywhere near me was because she was a feral cat who had never known a home or human touch. I longed for her to trust me enough to pet her and take a brush to her long fur, but that was never to be. She did not leave, and I named her "Miss Kitty" after the lovely lady on the TV show "Gunsmoke".

After a few months my neighbor, Ed Hammond, and I noticed Miss Kitty's bulging belly. She gave birth to four kittens in a secluded corner of Ed's carport. During Miss Kitty's absence one day, I noticed her babies lying on the cold concrete, so I ginerly picked up each one and placed them on a pillow. Big Mistake! Miss Kitty definitely did not appreciate anyone's touching her babies, so she picked up each one in her mouth and carried them across the street to a neighbor's yard. When they were big enough, Miss Kitty marched them back across the street to our yard.

What a joy and pleasure it was to observe the kittens at play - wrestling, pouncing on leaves blowing in the breeze, playfully tormenting crickets and other insects, and falling out of shrubbery after climbing up and not quite knowing how to get down. And what a caring, loving mother Miss Kitty turned out to be. She would not touch the food until after her kittens had finished eating, a practice that continued long after the kittens were grown.

Ed was determined to domesticate these cats. He placed a litter box in his bathroom, brought the kittens inside and closed the doors. Chaos followed. They howled, wanted the freedom of the outdoors, climbed the drapes, the screen doors, meanwhile inflicting scratch upon scratch upon poor Ed as he picked them up and petted them. Eventually a transformation took place, so much so that three of them slept on Ed's bed at night.

One of the cats is a handsome black male with green eyes, a white tuxedo front and four white paws; hence his name "Boots". These kittens were born with feral instincts and it was many months, thanks to Ed, before Boots would come inside, plop himself on the carpet and roll over so that I could rub his white belly, all the while purring loudly in sheer contentment - this after months of hissing at me. Today, twelve years later, Ed and his loving companion "Boots" live in Oklahoma.

Even before the domestication process began, we had all five cats "fixed". It was no easy task to entice them into a cage but finally they could not resist the salmon at the far end of the cage. Getting Miss Kitty to cooperate was another matter; she was too street smart to walk into a cage. It was not until after she mothered two more kittens that we were finally able to trick her. She tried desperately to escape, tearing at the cage and howling in panic all the way as I drove to the clinic.

Each afternoon would find Miss Kitty taking an afternoon nap in my back yard. On one such afternoon she again lay on the grass, except that this time, when I opened the door, she did not lift her head to see who was disturbing her siesta. An awful thought crossed my mind. My heart sank as I realized she had gone to Kitty Heaven.
She had been attacked by dogs during the night because the gas meter man had not locked the gate behind him.

I lined a new box with newspapers, a towel, and laid her rigid body inside. I covered her with another towel, placed the cover on her "kitty casket", and placed it into the gravesite I dug in the back yard. I covered the box with dirt, said a prayer, then planted red and white petunias on her grave. The following day I enclosed the gravesite with a white picket fence.

Miss Kitty, I miss you and I thank you for all the pleasure you and your babies brought to me during your brief life on this earth. May you rest in peace, my beautiful little friend.

Helen

A Hard Lesson for a Duck

2008-06-30T11:20:00.000-07:00

skip to main skip to sidebar
a yorkshire man abroad
Friday, June 20, 2008

A Hard Lesson for a Duck
My regular walks with the dogs – two Jack Russell terriers – bring many different experiences, most of which are totally positive and some genuinely life enhancing. Today’s episode concerns a family of ducks, which the dogs firmly believe should be theirs to do with as they will!We have been privileged to observe three generations over the last couple of years and the duck in question is the sole survivor of three siblings from last year. Some weeks ago, she hatched two babies, which we watched regularly as they developed for three or four weeks. My wife commented that the duck did not appear to be a particularly attentive mother. This proved to be the case, when – along with a hysterical infant – my wife was witness to the distressing sight of one of the ducklings being grabbed enthusiastically and taken swiftly away in the jaws of an out-of-control dog, not, of course, one of ours!The mother duck seemed to take little notice of the survivor and spent most of the next few weeks back in her nest in the middle of the lake.Well, recently, she appeared with three more ducklings; when we see her now, she is rarely more than a couple of metres from her babies and is voluble in making her ducky protective presence felt. A rather tough way for her learn, but I think these three have a better than even chance of achieving adulthood.For me, this is another great example of the value added to our lives – albeit this time indirectly – by having dogs in the family.

John & Sheila V

PAW PRINTS ON THE HEART

2008-06-27T20:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever asked “What is my purpose in life”? Have you ever stopped long enough to listen to the answer? One cool autumn morning I did just that. Now I didn’t hear a voice that said ‘HONEY DO THIS”, but I had a knowing in my heart, that I was to go to the Children’s Hospital in the city close to our home. I also had the knowing that I was to be there by 2:30 that afternoon. Why? I had no idea why. What I did know was if I was being called, I had better pay attention, and I had better be on time! I went to the hospital with the feeling I was there to volunteer. I wandered the halls for a bit, but nothing felt right. Was I on a goose chase? I went to the administration office and asked them about volunteering. They said I needed to go to another area in the hospital. I was a little bit discouraged by all of this. As I was walking out of the office door, I looked at my watch and it said 2:30pm. I said to myself, God, ----- I asked, I listened, and I obeyed, but I am a BLONDE, and I am not getting it. Please show me a sign. As I looked up, there in the lobby of the hospital were 5 Golden Retriever Therapy Dogs, and their masters. I knew immediately that was why I was there. I introduced myself to one of the leaders. Her name was FAITH!!!!! She said they meet there twice a month at 2:30pm.
I went home and registered for therapy classes with my beautiful Australian Shepherd Champion show dog, ARTIE. Our calling is to brighten the day of everyone we meet in care facilities for the elderly. The smiles that come across their faces when they run their swollen, and crippled fingers through his beautiful long satiny coat, is priceless. Everywhere Artie goes he leaves behind PAW PRINTS ON THE HEART!

HONEY

Socks

2008-06-20T04:12:00.000-07:00

Socks-Katherine’s cat

There once was an adventurous cat,
who learnt how to swim just like that.
He fell in the deep end right next to the tap.
His brother, sat watching, said what a sap.
As Socks swam to the island of bubbles,
which looked like the end of his troubles.
He thought, I could swim the Channel,
if I could only let go of this flannel.
But his swimming days are now done.
And he’s banned from the bathroom and fun .
He’s going on a journey but not yet.
He must ask his brother. What’s a vet ?