Why do you have the dogs you own?

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  • edited November -1
    Well, growing up on the farm we always had a dog. It wasn't always the same dog, and the dog always lived outside. I wasn't much of an animal lover (didn't like to touch them, was afraid of some dogs on other farms), but my first memory was a dog named Pikey. I am not sure of the spelling because I never wrote his name, and maybe the name was of Scandinavian origin. I do remember the dog being very sedate and friendly with all of us little kids, cousins that would come to visit, etc. Pikey was sort or light brown, had longish hair and was maybe 30-40 lbs. I don't recall what happened to him, but I know there were also a series of black dogs later (maybe a lab mix, but each was sort of small -- maybe 20-30 lbs, short hair, etc.). The last one I recall on the farm was a dog my youngest sister wanted to name something like Blackie (she was pre-school when the dog arrived), but my Dad called Kimberly.

    Then fast forward my life through college, working and having a son and 7 years later a daughter. Each of them begged numerous times for a dog, or at least a cat, and the answer was always no. At one time I was ready to allow a cat, and by a quirk of fate my son displayed a raging allergy to Siamese cat, thereby saving me from having to give in. As for dogs, I had this rule that dogs belonged outdoors and should run free; and since we lived in the city that was not a possible lifestyle for a dog. I did concede to goldfish, a small snake (named Bob) found on the farm and transplanted to the (now empty) goldfish tank, a hamster named Peanut and finally a rabbit named Snowball. I'm not sure where I lost my resolve because I liked reptiles and rodents even less than dogs and cats!

    Anyway, one day when my daughter was about 8 we traveled to the farm (with her hamster). On the way home, we stopped at a casino to eat at the buffet and parked in the back near the hotel entrance in the shade of an RV. On the way back to our car, we stepped outside and saw a 5 lb. puppy on the lawn. My daughter instantly scooped him up, and my husband said "...We should check to see if a guest lost their dog." The bellman said "... That dog has no collar, and looks lost. I would take him with me. Let me get you a box." As my husband tells it, just like getting in a car accident, one moment we had no dog and the next moment were driving down the road with the dog in a box on my daughters lap, and she is feeding him Milkbone puppy biscuits. Coincidence or not, she had a whole box because she fed them to the hamster to clean his teeth! Of course the dog had parasites inside and out, was dehydrated and malnourished. The vet was reluctant to administer shots on the first visit (I think predicting the dog would not survive). And it took me some getting used to having a dog in the house. Anyway, it all worked wonderfully and our (adult-size 75 lb.) dog named Joe became a best friend to our family, the neighborhood kids and adults, and everyone else he ever met.

    Nine days after we had to put Joe down due to cancer (after 1 years with us) we found Josephine. The rest of her story is elsewhere on this forum. And I am obsessed with her, and memories of Joe. Having a dog in the house is not so bad!
  • edited November -1
    Whoops... in my story above, there are a few typos. The critical one is that Joe was with us for 12 years +, not just one year.

    Sorry...
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