Celebrate the Small Things is hosted by the multi-talented, ever-thankful Viklit!
My two dogs, waiting for my mom to come and walk with me (and them). Pic from a while ago.
Lady, our Rhodesian Ridgeback/Mix, was left in a campground with a whole litter of puppies just like her. My parents brought her home to us. She's 13 going on 14, and she has joint pain. We think this might be her last summer with us.
Jumper, our Beagle/Basset/Who Knows?/Mix with mostly Beagle behaviors, came from the pound for my oldest daughter's 7th birthday present. She picked him out, and we brought him home. No one could tell how old he was - somewhere between 2 and 7. (Kind of a big range). He was malnourished, almost actually mangy with some kind of skin disease that took special shampoo to get rid of, had street dog behavior (no garbage can was safe from him, he could even open the ones with the foot pedal), and he had been in a car accident. Later, we found out he had seizures.
Recently, we found out that seven places on his spine were messed up in different ways . . . most likely from the same accident, and made painful by a recent excursion outside the fence at night (we thought he was in, but we were tired and he loved being sneaky).
In the seven years he lived with us, he went from an occasionally snarly street dog to a totally affectionate buddy. His name was Jumper for a reason. He liked to jump, but he never jumped on us - just next to us in the air.
He did like to cause a bit of trouble now and then, escaping the confines of the fence, running through the wooded acreage that my parents own and over the neighbor's houses where he would sometimes knock over garbage cans or eat cat food. Thankfully, our neighbors were gracious with us, especially when they saw us chasing him (he only came when called inside the fence or inside the house -even if we had treats). He gave us stories to tell.
He loved to walk. He loved to sniff the world. He loved to bark, at anything, including the wind and the sun. He loved to eat (anything except one stew I made that no one liked - and he didn't like "greens" unless they were grass) He even liked fresh blackberries off the lower parts of the blackberry bushes around our house. He loved us with soulful eyes, snort-filled conversations, a wagging tail, and a desire to sit on our feet, or to lean against us if we were seated on the floor. He loved to be petted, and he loved to sit on the back deck in the fresh air.
After nearly two weeks of increasing pain despite pain meds, muscle relaxers and prednisone, we decided we had to let him go.
I miss him. We all do. But I'm celebrating the goodness of his life.