Showing posts with label pets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pets. Show all posts

Saturday, April 10, 2010

A DOG'S LIFE PART II




Percy here. I’m the “other” dog, as the black Lab calls me. I joined the family two years ago. I had been sitting on death row in Florida waiting for the deadly needle when Chesapeake Safe Harbor in Maine offered to take me because the guy who dropped me off at the shelter said I was a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. I gotta say that’s stretching it a bit. Granted, there’s some Chessie in me, but it takes a good eye to see it.

I made sure to behave on the long relay ride up the East Coast. Every driver praised me. Let me tell you, I learned through the school of hard knocks when to be an exemplary example of a good dog. It’s saved my life more than once. Now that I’m secure in my new home, I slip a little, but I’m a quick thinking animal and figured out how to gloss over my errors. When we're on a walk and the woman starts her “bad dog” routine, I hang my head in shame and come to her. Then I heel all the way home. Works like a charm. By the time we get to the house, she’s forgiven me.

I waited six months before I got on the furniture. She tried to break the habit, but eventually gave up. I knew she would. So the black Lab sleeps on the floor and I get the couch. SWEET DEAL.

Got to admit it’s hard to put up with the black dog. He still thinks he’s a puppy and runs circles around me, nipping at my ears because he wants to play. I’m too old for that crap. I do my best to ignore him, but sometimes I lose it and drag him around by his collar. That doesn’t go over well with the woman.

The day I arrived at my new digs, I couldn’t believe my luck. Two fur balls sat on the porch. In my world, god created cats for dogs to chase. I jumped outta the truck and took off like a jet fighter. Surprise! They didn’t run. A look passed between them right before one jumped on my back. The other landed on my head. Thank god, the man and woman rescued me. I learned a lesson that day. Never tackle both cats at once.

I bided my time. Waited until I caught the BIG one walking down the driveway alone. Before the woman could yell my name, I was gone. I thought it was my lucky day ‘cause the monster ran in the woods. I tore after him. Then he stopped short. I plowed into him and all hell broke loose. That was the day I decided to leave the cats alone. I don’t like them, but it looks like they aren’t going anywhere. Gotta respect their determination though. They should be declawed. Then I might stand a chance.

Until the next time…hope you get to gnaw on a lot of marrow bones.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

A TRIBUTE TO MOOSE


Last week, my brother, Andy, and his partner, Judy, lost a very special friend. Moose lived a life most dogs (and many people, too) only dream about. A cross between a Brittany and a Golden Retriever, Moose received the best qualities from both breeds. He proved to be a fantastic bird dog and loved the water as if he were born there.

I remember Moose as a puppy. He overcame many health problems, and this tenacity showed us what a super dog he’d become.
This is a bit embarrassing to admit…I envied Moose’s lifestyle. Andy, a Master Maine Registered Guide, spends the majority of his time in the woods or in a boat. Many summer days at work, my mind wandered to Andy and Moose trolling around a wilderness lake fishing. I could picture Moose sleeping in the bottom of the boat, soaking up the sun or standing in the bow, enjoying the wind in his face. Yeah, that’s where I wanted to be. Now I know the true meaning of “lucky dog.” What dog wouldn’t give up his special toy to trade places?

Moose enjoyed a long life where he brought joy and love into Andy and Judy’s lives. In turn, they adored him and made his time on earth a special one. Right now there’s a hole in their hearts, but in time, Moose will sit gently in their minds, and his memory will bring smiles to their faces. Moose’s spirit now runs free. He’ll hunt birds, sit on a peaceful lakeshore and swim a few laps to cool off in the summer’s heat. I’m sure he’ll also find something smelly to roll in.
Farewell, Moose. You’ll never be forgotten. You can bet this special dog will be in one of my novels someday.