A sad farewell

I am putting my dog to sleep tomorrow.

Not the dog we have now, who guest posted a little while back, but Chloe, a dog I had before I moved to Brisbane and got married. She stayed behind on my parent's property, as a suburban backyard is no place for a Kelpie, especially when we would be out all day.

She is nearly 15 now, practically blind and almost completely deaf. She also suffered a series of strokes a while back, and the toll they have taken on her balance and mobility is now getting worse. All told, it's time - she is no longer comfortable, she's in pain a lot and it's not fair on her to prolong it any more.

So my head knows all this, but would someone please tell my heart?

Chloe was one of those truly good dogs you are lucky to know (amazingly, so is Scout, our current family dog). I got her from the Animal Welfare pound here on the Gold Coast, and from the minute she choose me, I was hooked. I truly believe the right dog for you will choose you, I was actually playing with some other puppies, non-working dog breeds like I wanted, when Chloe trotted straight up and sat herself in my lap. We were told at the time she was a Kelpie / German Shepard cross, but as she grew it was obvious she was a Kelpie/Staffy cross. She had the loyalty both breeds are famous for, as evidenced when we got her home. We put her out on the verandah, as we had never been a dogs-inside-the-house family. Chloe jumped the barricade, slipped her collar, squeezed through gaps and generally refused to accept that her place was anywhere other than at my feet. At the same time, she knew exactly who to charm to get this happening, she had my tough old Dad wrapped around her paw within a few hours.

Even as a puppy, she was desperate to please. She never chewed anything other than her toys, only ever dug one hole, and when she got yelled at for it, never did it again.

As I wasn't working at this time, Chloe spent nearly all her time with me, she was my shadow, and I could take her anywhere. If I walked into a shop or what have you, she would wait outside until I came out. We used to joke that I could go on holiday and she would wait outside the airport.

Unless you're a dog person, you won't understand, but I felt, and still feel, such a bond with her, she was a wonderful companion and a great listener. There's nothing like the feeling of knowing all she wanted was to be with you, to receive that unconditional love. I never like to compare animals to people, or refer to them as 'children', but I really felt like we were a team, she was a big part of my family.

Because she was a working dog, she had a lot of energy, and a very quick brain. Kelpies need a job to do, something to occupy them, so I took her to obedience and agility classes. She excelled at these, and became famous in the family for some of her tricks. My father has a very bad back, so he taught her (within a day) that whenever he dropped anything (a spoon, a lighter, etc.), she would dart in, pick it up and give it to him. She was obsessed with fetching a ball, it was her absolute favourite thing to do, but if I told her to stay put, you could bounce one right in front of her nose, and she'd ignore it. And even when she was playing fetch, if you said to her, "This is the last one", she would know the game was over and wouldn't chase it.

I would often take her to the beach with my friend M, who had young children. Chloe would spend endless hours gently herding the kids back to us, stopping them from running too far down the beach, and keeping them in front of where we sat with the baby.

She was terrified of our neighbours flock of geese, but when my sister was feeding them and they got quite aggressive, she ran over and threw herself into the flock, scattering them and getting a few nasty bites in the process no doubt.

Chloe has lived a life full of loyalty, love, fun and freedom, and I am already crying typing this, so I have no idea how I'm going to go tomorrow, but I know I have to be the one to be there with her, and thank her for all she's done for me. I wish I had a photo of her on my computer, or a scanner, as I'd love to show her to you. There's a great photo of her and I, taken on the morning of an obedience class, where she is looking straight at the photographer and I swear you can see her pure heart shining out of her eyes. I've been meaning to get a copy of it for ages and put it up, and I feel bad that it's taken having to say goodbye to her to get me around to it.

So, if you're the type, please say a quick prayer tomorrow morning, as the angels in doggy-heaven get their throwing arms ready.

Also , if anyone has any ideas on how to explain this to a three-year old, I would really appreciate any tips.

Guest Blogger

Well, the votes are in! As per my previous post, it looks like today I will abdicate my position (sitting on my butt, tapping away on laptop) and give Scout the Loyal Hound his 15 minutes of fame. Thanks for all your comments and bloggy-love. Enjoy!

P.S: I know this is late, but eh, I've had a house full of people to feed and entertain.

Hello! I'm Scout, often referred to as Good Boy, and I live here with Boss Lady, Big Guy and Little One. I grew up with them and my brother, Boston...

... but after he was attacked by a Bad Dog, he was a very nervous boy, and sometimes attacked other dogs. Boss Lady and Big Guy tried hard, but Boston wasn't suited for family life, so they found Nice Guy, who gave Boston a home with no Little Ones, lots of room to run on his own, and a friend for life. I don't miss him too much, because Boss Lady made a big effort to make me a big part of the family. Plus I have Little One, I was only 6mths old when she came to us, so we have grown up together (but I think I'm more mature).

I know a lot of you are wondering how a dog can talk. Well, anyone who's ever known a Really Good Dog, will know how they can Mind Meld with humans, and understand what you are thinking. We know when you are happy, sad or scared, and we are especially good at knowing when you are thinking about making dinner. Sometimes, humans can even understand us!!! When I was a Puppy, Boss Lady thought I sounded a lot like Scooby Doo, but now that I am a Big Boy, she says I remind her of the Wise One from the movie Homeward Bound. He was voiced by Don Ameche. I don't know what a movie is, but anything with a Home in it must be good.

My main job here is to look after Little One. She is lots of fun, but sometimes not so gentle. I know this is because she is only a Human Pup, and so I smile when she runs up and cannonballs into me, throwing her arms around my neck. When we go to the park, I make sure to be between Little One and any other dogs we might meet, until I have decided they are Good Dogs, and may say Hello to her. Boss Lady is always right there, but it's my job to look after her to.

My favourite thing to do is go to the Park, I have lots of friends there and nearly every Person I say hello to says I am Gorgeous. I say No, I'm Scout, but they can't hear me like Boss Lady can. I love to run free through Wide Open Spaces, but when Boss Lady whistles, I scoot right back to her. I also love to swim. Our park has a stream in it, and when I'm allowed, I love to splash and play in it. For some reason though, I'm not always allowed Inside after a swim.

As part of my job here, I have been given Lessons to teach my People. Boss Lady says she is so glad I came into her life. She is learning her Lessons well. So far I have taught her to Enjoy the Simple Things in Life, Have Fun, to Live Instinctually and Not Think So Much (she sometimes has trouble with this) and to Be True. I have more Lessons for her, but not until she's ready.

Thanks for Talking with me, I need to go Chase the Birds Away from Boss Lady's Vegie Patch now, and then she says her feet are cold, so I will lay my head on them to keep them warm. I like to do this, becuase she rubs my ears with her toe and it feels So Good.

Licks and Cookies,

Scout

Lost contacts, early mornings and nature poos

I have had a day of disgusting things.


Possibly the most disgusting thing of all was being woken at 4.30am to help Hubby look for his contact lens that popped out while he was getting ready for work. After an hour of searching, dis-assembling sink pipes and generally cranky-pantsness on both sides, we deduced it had been washed down the sink and into God-knows-where. Fun.


So... hubby can't drive without the lens, and has super-important work-type stuff, needs to meet some guys out on site and get them started, yadda yadda yadda. Being the immeasurably good wife I am (and GG was on a sleepover anyway) I throw on some clothes and drive Hubby to Wacol. Yes, that's where the prison is, right next door to it we are in fact!! They even had to do police checks on the guys to make sure they hadn't been, or didn't have family or friends, serving time in there. Nothing like having a mate with a bulldozer on the other side of the razor wire!!


I must admit, it was actually quite nice to hang out with Hubby for the morning, I took him to a few others sites, then to an optician to get an emergency lens. It was the most time we had spent together in weeks!!


So, I get home around lunchtime, a very tired GG is dropped off by Grandma, all PlayGrouped out, and we both have a rest.


Then, this afternoon I was busy and filthy in the veggie garden when GG announced she needed to do wee. Rather than hose ourselves off to go inside, I decide to be all Earth Mumma about it, and whip her knickers off and tell her to go wee under the tree near the fence. Yes, yes, I expect my Mother of the Year Award to arrive any minute.


Well, I look over and she's decided to add another process, if you know what I mean. Yup, poos on the lawn. Lovely!


I sigh, kick myself and try to figure out how to clean THAT up. Turns out I needn't worry, the dog has got it covered. HE ATE IT!!!!!!! Stomach churning, I banish him, re-dress GG and wonder how my life got so glamourous. I still can't bring myself to let the dog in, I don't think I'll ever look at him the same way again.

Disgusting, disgusting day. Where's the wine?

Gone to the Dogs

So I was at our local dog park today, we have great one close by; designated off-leash,heaps of room, a river to swim in, with a footpath all the way around the big loop so kids can ride bikes and scooters and such. Though why people bring kids to a dog park and then don’t want the dogs to go near the kids is beyond me, don’t they know dogs and kids are kindred souls, both hell-bent on fun and mud puddles?

It occured to me how there are similarities between the different types of owners and their dogs and the types of parents and kids you encounter at the playground. Maybe there’s something to that whole ‘fur-kid’ phenomonon. Although I hate when people tell me their dog is their 'baby'. Oh yeah? I don't really remember being able to put my 3 month old daughter out in the backyard with a bowl of water and a squeaky toy and go out for the day.

For instance, take the woman in the designer exercise gear, wearing $400 sneakers and chatting into a mobile phone whilst studiously ignoring her yapping little shih-tzu who is jumping up on you, growling at Rottweilers and crapping all over the place. Remind you of anyone?

Or the girls, always in packs and trackie-dacked, marijuana symbol proudly emblazoned on their tie-dyed singlets, blithely puffing away on their cigarettes and casually pulling their snarling mongrels off each other.

Maybe the woman with the precious little thing, usually a poodle or a maltese, probably wearing a diamonte collar and maybe a little ribbon and jacket ensemble, who scoops up her “baby” into her arms as soon as another dog approaches and who quails at the very thought of going near the sandy beach where all the other dogs are having a ball. Nope, nothing familiar there...

And for anyone whose wondering, my dog is a happily panting Labrador, usually with 2 year old GG hauling him around by the collar and demanding he go fetch her ball. I’ll leave it up to you to decide where that puts me on the spectrum. :)

Quixotic