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Mon Mar 30, 2015, 04:48 PM

What is your favorite memory of a pet long gone?

Most of us have memories of pets doing silly, scary, funny, weird things. What's yours? Whatever pet you had, from tiger barb to African Gray to garden variety tabby to English Mastiff, tell all. Bonus for pictures!

This is my sweet Harry, whom I called Harry le Roi.



He loved those little toy mice covered with the fur of some unknown hapless creature. He'd play with a mouse for a while, then he'd take it into the kitchen. He'd drop it by the kibble dish and take a couple of bites of kibble, then pick up the mouse and chew on it for a minute, then take another bite of kibble, another bite of mouse, etc. I believe that he liked to feel like he was eating a mouse. God, he was a funny, sweet cat. I miss him so badly.

Ok, your turn. Go!

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Reply What is your favorite memory of a pet long gone? (Original post)
Bertha Venation Mar 2015 OP
OriginalGeek Mar 2015 #1
Bertha Venation Mar 2015 #2
OriginalGeek Mar 2015 #4
Laffy Kat Mar 2015 #22
OriginalGeek Mar 2015 #25
Laffy Kat Mar 2015 #28
catbyte Mar 2015 #3
Bertha Venation Mar 2015 #7
catbyte Mar 2015 #10
47of74 Mar 2015 #5
Bertha Venation Mar 2015 #8
KamaAina Mar 2015 #6
Bertha Venation Mar 2015 #9
Arugula Latte Mar 2015 #32
The Velveteen Ocelot Mar 2015 #11
fizzgig Mar 2015 #29
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #39
The Velveteen Ocelot Apr 2015 #44
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #47
trof Mar 2015 #12
Lil Missy Mar 2015 #14
Laffy Kat Mar 2015 #24
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #40
mithnanthy Mar 2015 #13
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #41
cloudbase Mar 2015 #15
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #42
cloudbase Apr 2015 #52
MissB Mar 2015 #16
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #43
MissB Apr 2015 #61
Dont call me Shirley Mar 2015 #17
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #48
Dont call me Shirley Apr 2015 #56
CaliforniaPeggy Mar 2015 #18
The Velveteen Ocelot Mar 2015 #19
CaliforniaPeggy Mar 2015 #20
The Velveteen Ocelot Mar 2015 #21
CaliforniaPeggy Mar 2015 #23
Skittles Mar 2015 #26
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #49
Skittles Apr 2015 #55
UTUSN Mar 2015 #27
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #50
nastynaven Mar 2015 #30
Bertha Venation Apr 2015 #51
fizzgig Mar 2015 #31
hunter Mar 2015 #33
shenmue Mar 2015 #34
vanlassie Mar 2015 #35
lunamagica Apr 2015 #36
sinkingfeeling Apr 2015 #37
Skittles Apr 2015 #46
murielm99 Apr 2015 #38
Skittles Apr 2015 #45
fizzgig Apr 2015 #53
Skittles Apr 2015 #54
bluedigger Apr 2015 #57
Xyzse Apr 2015 #58
Tommy_Carcetti Apr 2015 #59
mythology Apr 2015 #60
IrishEyes Apr 2015 #62

Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:05 PM

1. Hildegard

or Hildy to us kids - red, mini dachshund we had from the time I was in 1st grade until after I graduated high school and moved out.
A fiercer defender of me and my brothers you will never find. Hildy would launch herself with snarls and rage in between me and my step-father when he was in a beatin' mood (which was most of the time) and her barks probably earned her a few bruises and me a few less.

I cried a little when I left home because I couldn't take her with me but my mom loved that dog too and I couldn't leave my little brothers with no protection.

There will never be another Hildy.

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Response to OriginalGeek (Reply #1)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:35 PM

2. OG, I wish I had known her.

She loved you, it's clear. You had a rough time, and she wanted to make it easier for you. What a sweet, loyal pup.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #2)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:44 PM

4. Yes she did and she was.

I see the same love in my daughter's dog for my daughter. She has a little Papillon and, fortunately, she doesn't need to intervene in the way Hildy did for me but it's abundantly clear Seras loves her mama and seeing that brings up the joyful memories of Hildy. I'm 51 and still get a little misty eyed thinking of her. My champion, my Hildeguardian.

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Response to OriginalGeek (Reply #1)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:22 PM

22. Dachshunds are really police dogs in disguise.

We had a red min. dach. while I was growing up, too. She was super protective of the entire family. Unfortunately, she was bad about biting strangers, but we didn't care. Loved hear dearly.

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Response to Laffy Kat (Reply #22)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:37 PM

25. them strangers needed bitin'!

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Response to OriginalGeek (Reply #25)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 09:49 PM

28. Yep. And they weren't just little nips either! nt

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:40 PM

3. My Siamese cat, Yum Yum, who loved me unconditionally yet hated everyone else

absolutely hated it when I took up the oboe in middle school band. I decided on the oboe mainly because the school owned it & I didn't have to buy an instrument. Granted, those things sound like a wounded wildebeest until you get the hang of the double reed, but she would just go nuts, attacking the bell of the instrument as I tried to play it. I ended up having to practice in the car. Somewhere in Charlevoix High School, there are 45 year-old kitty teeth marks in the school oboe. I still miss that cat.

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Response to catbyte (Reply #3)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:08 PM

7. I would like to see that oboe.

I can picture her attack. Were you wounded by the reed when she hit the oboe?

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #7)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:23 PM

10. No, but she was ferocious in attacking the bell, lol. Tiny little teethmarks all around it.

She never, ever hurt me, but everybody else was fair game. If my dad yelled at me, she'd attack him. Dad was a big tough guy, ex-Marine & a cop, but animals--especially cats--would turn him to mush. She also held grudges. One day, dad was teasing her, gently roughing up her fur while wearing leather gloves & it just infuriated her. He got bored, so shortly afterward went into my folk's bedroom to take a nap. About a half hour later, Yum Yum hopped up on the bed with revenge on her mind. Dad knew from the look on her face that he was going to get nailed. He was right. He tolerated a lot of abuse from Yum Yum, bless his heart. Everybody called her The Old Dragon, but she was my very best friend.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:53 PM

5. My late feline niece Morgan

This is a picture of my late feline niece Morgan helping me take a nap in 2012.



Morgan lived with me for several months back in 2008 while my sister was doing pharmacy rotations which took her all over the country. She had a bit of a temper but was otherwise about the sweetest cat there was. Morgan would wait for me to come home from work at night and would sleep on my bed. It was rough losing her in 2013, almost as much as losing human members of my family.

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Response to 47of74 (Reply #5)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:20 PM

8. Cantankerous pets get into our hearts

just as much as the sweet ones do. Morgan had a way of comforting you, it seems.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 05:53 PM

6. Towards the end of her ninth life, Kwan Yin gave me a solid 45-minute lick fest!

 

It started to hurt after a while. They have raspy tongues, you know. But I knew she was nearing the end, and I didn't want her to stop!

So much for the h8rs who say kittehs only lick us for the salt in our sweat.

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Response to KamaAina (Reply #6)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:21 PM

9. KA, that does hurt. A lot.

I totally understand not wanting to stop her. No doubt she knew, and she wanted to thank you for being part of her life. That's how it seems to me, anyway.

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Response to KamaAina (Reply #6)

Tue Mar 31, 2015, 11:41 AM

32. One of my sweet kitty boys (gone for a few years now) liked to lick my hand...

 

One day, he just kept licking the same spot. Later I realized I had a small, weeping wound similar to what you'd get if you sandpapered off a bit of skin! Ouch!

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:31 PM

11. This guy, Charles (R.I.P., 1974-1995):



We stole him from our neighbors, a couple of knuckleheaded girls who kept putting him outside in subzero weather because he was "too noisy." One very cold day the poor little guy (hardly more than a kitten) was howling outside the front door of our fourplex, and we took him in, cleaned him up, had him neutered and treated for worms and ear mites, and told our asshole, neglectful neighbors (who didn't even ask around about him for several days of cold weather) we hadn't seen him. I feel no guilt for this act of larceny. Not a bit.

So anyhow, Charles was probably not the sharpest knife in the drawer but he was very friendly and occasionally weird. One of his favorite things to do was stalk and "kill" balloons. We'd blow them up and he'd pop them with his claws, which he seemed to think was great fun. But we had to take the balloon corpse away from him immediately or he'd eat it, which resulted in an unusually colorful litter box.

He was a sweetheart. He lived to be 21. He's been gone for 20 years but I still miss him because he was so sweet and so goofy.

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Response to The Velveteen Ocelot (Reply #11)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 10:17 PM

29. was a sweet looking boy

you did the right thing.

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Response to The Velveteen Ocelot (Reply #11)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:17 PM

39. Charles looks a lot like our Moose.

Was your sweetie really big?

I would've done the same thing -- I would've stolen him, too. I might've flaunted my theft before the two little chickies, and dared them to do anything about it.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #39)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:36 PM

44. He wasn't huge, but substantial; maybe 12-13 lbs.

My one and only venture into "breaking bad" and I'm not a damn bit sorry. He's buried in the back yard and there's a little terra cotta cat marking his grave. He was a good cat.

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Response to The Velveteen Ocelot (Reply #44)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:56 PM

47. That's sweet.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 06:57 PM

12. Max, our second German Shepherd



We registered him with the AKC as "Baron Maximilian", but soon came to know he was really "Maximum Dog".

From a tiny puppy he grew to be HUGE.
75 pounds.

Two long stories, but he saved my wife and daughter from home intruders/burglars while I was away, and our next home from burglars when I was present.
God, I loved that dog.

Gentle and loving with friends and family, but hell on paws if you 'didn't belong'.

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Response to trof (Reply #12)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 07:17 PM

14. I have a dog I named Maximillian

He's a Rat Terrorist






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Response to Lil Missy (Reply #14)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:24 PM

24. OMG he's adorable.

Got a rat terrier on my short list for "next dog'".

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Response to trof (Reply #12)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:30 PM

40. He's beautiful, Trof.

And what a great protector.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 07:04 PM

13. Our black cat Fudgie...

would "dance" on command, if we put a bathroom throw rug down. His little back feet would 'bust-a-move' and we miss him very much. All we would say is "DANCE" and he would put on his show for us and company. Our friends were amazed.

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Response to mithnanthy (Reply #13)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:31 PM

41. How sweet!

I love when cats act up in silly ways. Cool that he was actually trained to dance on command.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 07:23 PM

15. When I was a kid, we had a dog Nemo

who would go into the local ice cream shop where he'd be given a scoop of ice cream in a cup. We'd settle up the bill when one of us went in-they'd tell us how many cups Nemo had. That was over 50 years ago. I doubt any store would even consider something like that these days.

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Response to cloudbase (Reply #15)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:32 PM

42. What kind of dog was Nemo? n/t

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #42)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:22 PM

52. He was what we called a "Heinz."

57 varieties.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 07:45 PM

16. Dh and I got a puppy

when we first moved in together. She was a very smart dog (herding breed). She loved going for walks and hikes and camping in the woods. Super friendly.

But she hated one of our friends with a passion. Could not stand him- would bark, growl- even if she just saw his vehicle. Our friend moved to a different state for a few months and we dropped by and visited his town when we were in the area. We were having lunch in a big city and had her on the sidewalk at our table. Our friend came walking down the sidewalk in a crowd of people and she instantly went into her bark/growl mode. We could never figure out why she hated him so.

Sadly we lost her too young. Would've loved to have seen that relationship play out.

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Response to MissB (Reply #16)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:33 PM

43. That's odd. I wonder what it was

that made her behave that way. What was her name?

(And what is "DH"?)

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #43)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 10:09 PM

61. Most of the time

it is "dear husband" but now and then I'd go with "damned husband"

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 07:59 PM

17. My dog, a 65 lb retriever, cat, bunny and turtle were all friends. I have a photo of them all

huddled together. The cat would herd the bunny inside at dark. They all loved each other.

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Response to Dont call me Shirley (Reply #17)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:57 PM

48. Bunny-herding cat -- ha!



Sounds like a sweet family.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #48)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 02:35 PM

56. When our first bunny died, our cat herded a stray Californian Rabbit home. He

brought strays home, just like us. He thought he was a Mama. I miss them all.

Your kitty is so sweet looking.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:08 PM

18. Our only dog was a Dalmation we named "Meson." Anyone knowing any physics can figure that one out!

We had her from puppyhood till she died. I wasn't working yet when we got her, and she and I bonded like crazy.

My husband would tell me that she would lie at the front door and whimper when I'd go out, but when I got home? She would go crazy with joy! I'd sit on the floor and she would run around me and almost rub on me and lick my face and just be so happy that I'd returned home at last! She was pretty big, around 60 pounds and she nearly would knock me over with her exuberance.

I still miss her. I called her my third daughter...

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Response to CaliforniaPeggy (Reply #18)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:15 PM

19. Did she get her name because she was unstable?

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Response to The Velveteen Ocelot (Reply #19)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:20 PM

20. Nope!

A meson is a medium-weight black and white particle, according to my physicist husband!

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Response to CaliforniaPeggy (Reply #20)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:21 PM

21. They are also inherently unstable.

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Response to The Velveteen Ocelot (Reply #21)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 08:22 PM

23. OK.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 09:20 PM

26. LB, solid black cat back in Austin

I lived in a second floor apartment and he would climb up the wall to get into my patio

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Response to Skittles (Reply #26)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:58 PM

49. Wow!

What was the wall made of? Wood, vinyl, stucco . . . ? That is a talented cat.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Reply #49)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:42 PM

55. it was wood

I remember the first time, I thought I had accidentally locked him outside.....but then it happened again and again

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 09:44 PM

27. OMZ, how much time you got?!1 The most recent was a few minutes ago

I never lock the front door. My previous (now deceased 2 dogs) made a few litters, of whom I kept one pup. And he always laid at the front door. So (this is 10 yrs later) I remembered, I don't need to lock the door because (name) is guarding the door.

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Response to UTUSN (Reply #27)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:00 PM

50. A true watchdog.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 10:17 PM

30. he's cute!

 

i love cats

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Response to nastynaven (Reply #30)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:01 PM

51. He really was, nastynaven.

I love them too . . . ask anyone.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Mon Mar 30, 2015, 10:28 PM

31. i've got a few sweet boys that i miss especially

marley showed up in maybe 94, this little grey thing with fur so matted that it looked like dreadlocks, hence the name. we're pretty sure he sought refuge from the drug dealers across the street and he had been badly abused. it was several years before he'd come any further into the house than the kitchen, but once he finally settled in, he was a good, sweet boy. he normally wasn't a lap cat, but he'd come curl up with me if i was on the couch late at night.

we had to put him down on 9/11.

then there was yos, our big black boy. he came from a litter a nearly feral female dropped in our garage (we think she came from the same house as marley). he was born in the summer of 95 and was with us until september 09. he was big and mellow, he was the alpha but he let my girl think she was.

here he is tolerating the princess.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Tue Mar 31, 2015, 05:02 PM

33. I have so many. Pets who were memorable because they were good, and pets who were horrible.

When my grandma retired she became even crazier than she usually was. My grandma could be really mean and fought off the police and paramedics cussing, biting, kicking, and hitting when she had to be removed from the home she owned as a danger to herself and others.

People were afraid of my grandma. She'd size them up and frequently say the nastiest soul-crushing thing she could possibly say about them. Her "good grandma" days were very rare. I was lucky enough to experience a few. My younger siblings don't remember any good times with her, just the times she wasn't entirely awful.

Her cat was just like her. It was a match made in hell.

My grandma had a good pension and could afford nice assisted living places but she never lasted long in them. She never lasted long at my parent's house either, even though she'd taken over the master bedroom in my parent's best efforts to appease her.

Unfortunately most assisted living places didn't allow pets, evil cats especially.

Therefore the cat ended up protecting my grandma's room, patiently awaiting my grandma's inevitable return every time she moved away in a fit of anger. Yes, the cat got the master bedroom all to herself, threatening anyone who entered until my grandma was inevitably evicted from whatever assisted living place she'd gone sour on. Everything would be fine for a few months, grandma would be friendly, her cat would be friendly, and then the cycle would repeat.

One time my grandma was away and I was fixing a dripping faucet in the master bathroom and that cat tried to rip my face off. I still have scars. But physical scars are easy. The crazy grandma scars took a little longer to heal. Good thing I can laugh about it all now.

My mom made us promise that if she ever turned into my grandma to throw her into a volcano or something.

Fortunately my mom's not like that, and her pets, although a bit wild, are nothing like my grandma's cat.




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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Tue Mar 31, 2015, 07:13 PM

34. I miss petting my dog Keisha's tummy

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Tue Mar 31, 2015, 11:19 PM

35. We had a cat named Clancy who had a habit of

making sure we knew if he was unhappy about something. He would back up against a wall and whip his tail against it: Thump Thump Thump. It was hard to ignore! I always say he was killed by a blue jay. He allowed a bird to attack him multiple times, around the neck. He let it happen more than once. The last time, we didn't catch the ensueing abcess in time and he died of sepsis.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Wed Apr 1, 2015, 02:56 PM

36. I have a million of them...

One is that for some reason, she loved to see us wearing new outfits. it was so strange that she not only noticed, but was happy about it. We used to laugh that our little Lucero loved fashion.

Well, you can't imagine her reaction when she saw my little sister in her First Communion gown. The long white dress, the veil...I swear the doggy was stunned, her face...like she was thinking "This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"

I always wondered what was going through her mind, and why she reacted like that. But it was the cutest, most adorable thing.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Wed Apr 1, 2015, 03:34 PM

37. This one used to dance with me on his hind legs. Died suddenly in 2004

from hemangiosarcoma at the age of 8.

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Response to sinkingfeeling (Reply #37)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:45 PM

46. OMG he looks like a stuffed toy

exquisite

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Wed Apr 1, 2015, 05:15 PM

38. Our Emily.

She was a Lab-German Shepherd mix, and the gentlest dog alive. She loved kids and cat food. She could sense a thunderstorm from miles away. She would hide and shake.

We had her for almost fourteen years.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 12:44 PM

45. hey Bertha

Last edited Fri Apr 17, 2015, 04:37 PM - Edit history (1)

I thought you'd like to see this pic from 2002 when I lived at the farm with Tom



I had to have Clancy, on the far left, put down last week - he would have been 17 in June. The bigger black cat is the infamous Skittles. The others from left to right are Tenny, Cowboy, Milkdud and Tibet (AKA Miss Priss). All gone now, with pieces of our hearts.

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Response to Skittles (Reply #45)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:30 PM

53. what a fine looking brood

i'm sorry about clancy.

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Response to fizzgig (Reply #53)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 01:38 PM

54. I miss the old guy

it's strange how losing a pet makes you realize how much they really meant to you

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 02:36 PM

57. My dog Tessa would always be waiting for me at the foot of the hill coming home from school.

No leash laws back then, so she would spend her day going around to all the back doors in the neighborhood for hand outs, nap in the middle of the street in front of our house and make drivers stop to move her, and then be right on time to greet me as I walked home. Most excellent dog.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 02:45 PM

58. Cyan, little light blue parakeet with a huge personality.

He was the one parakeet we had that lasted for a long time.

He took over a bedroom in the house, which was where he usually was for most of the day. We considered it Cyan's room. He had a brass metal standing lamp which he used as his perch, which he would ding, ding, dingdingdingdingding with his beak over and over again.

He had a huge tray of bird feed, where he is a brat, that sifts through it and only eats the millet.

At one point or another, he would have phases where he wouldn't want to fly.
He would get around, go to the first floor just by hopping, then head back up by doing the same thing.

If you chase him, he would just hop so high and run.

I love that little bird, he would sit on my index finger and play wrestle with my thumb.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 02:56 PM

59. A few of mine.

My grandmother had a gray striped tabby. When she fell and broke her hip, she came to live with us and took her cat with her. Up to that point, the cat was rather stand offish and didn't like being pet or held that much. But I remember one night clearly. It was the night of Game 6 of the 1993 World Series and I was staying up late watching the game. All of a sudden, my grandmother's cat came up to me, sat down on my lap, and started purring. I was totally taken aback by all of that because she had never been that affectionate before. But the two of us sat and watched the ballgame....well, actually, I watched the game and she slept on my lap. If you know about Game 6 of the 1993 World Series, you know it ended with a walk off home run by Joe Carter, which was only the second time a World Series had ever ended on a walk-off homerun. As Carter rounded the bases, I looked down at the cat and thought, "You know, baseball history is being made at this very moment and you couldn't care less." From that day on, she was a lot more affectionate towards me and would frequently sit on my lap.

I also had a black and white tuxedo cat. She was born feral, but after she had kittens in our garage, she became a lot more domesticated. But of everyone in my family, she seemed to enjoy me the best. I'd be walking outside, and she would just come running up to me just like you'd expect a dog would. One time I was sitting on the bed, watching TV and eating a bag of potato chips. She jumped up on the bed and ate a stray chip. Noticing it, I began to feed her more of the chips. I never knew a cat would enjoy potato chips of all things. But we just sat there and bonded, eating potato chips like two couch potatoes.

The last one is rather bittersweet. I had a golden retriever who was just the sweetest dog ever. She'd sleep at the foot of my bed and always keep me company. I would be the one to take her for walks, and since we lived only about a half mile from the Chesapeake Bay, I'd take her down to the bay, where I'd throw sticks of driftwood out into the water, and her being the retriever that she was, would run out full force into the bay and bring them back to shore. Dozens of time I would do that and every time she'd enjoy it just as much as the last. Of course, time being what it was, I got older and so did she. Sadly, her hips began giving her problem and her mobility just wasn't what it used to be, and I couldn't take her on the half-mile walks out to the bay any longer. Just after I got my driver's license, and knowing how much she enjoyed going to the beach, I loaded her up into my car and drove her to the beach. There, we had one last opportunity for me to play fetch on the beach. While she couldn't run like she used to, I knew she had to appreciate it. Sadly, she passed just a few weeks later, but I'll never forget our last beach trip.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Fri Apr 17, 2015, 04:39 PM

60. For me it's a toss up

 

First there was our malamute, Tatanka, all 100 lbs of him, who somehow held the contradictory notions that he was both a lapdog and a furry human. I had just gotten home from knee surgery, a substantial affair where they sliced my thigh muscle apart to get to a growth on my knee. Tatanka wanted to cheer me, so he hopped onto the couch, or more accurately onto my legs. That part isn't the favorite memory. It was the look of pain and humiliation when I yelled at him to get off my leg. He looked so hurt that I had to apologize to him. That is the favorite memory of him.

The other is from our husky, Diablo. He was very neglected by his first owner and never got over the fear that he was going to not get to eat again. Which meant he would eat pretty much anything. Not just the usual stuff like out of the litter box or the trash, but he once escaped and came home with an entire deer leg and he once caught a grouse in the backyard. My favorite memory of him was the time he found a dead dove in the middle of winter. He started to eat the carcass, gets yelled at to stop at which point he paused to look at us with half a dozen feathers sticking out of his mouth before very deliberately swallowing the rest because we weren't close enough to stop him.

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Response to Bertha Venation (Original post)

Sat Apr 18, 2015, 12:38 AM

62. My cat was a firefighter

I don't buy candles but I received one as a gift. One day I lit the scented candle in my living room. It was sitting right next to me on the table as I watched TV on the couch. My cat dipped his paw in his drinking bowl, walked over to the table and stamped his paw on the candle. I check and he was fine. He then curled up on the couch next to me and fell asleep. I didn't light it again and eventually threw it away when I moved. My cat was always ready to defend me from danger.

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