Results tagged “pets” from LifeSavors

Oscar Mayer is our little Welsh Corgi, and is all personality. He still has not recovered from losing his "big sister," our chocolate lab Brandy. He's doing his best, but he still mostly mopes around and waits for her to return.

I thought I'd make life a little easier for him by getting him a summer haircut. His breed is a herding breed, and if we actually HAD cattle, he'd probably be the expert foreman "corraler," since he can gather anything together in groups; toys, kids, or his food. He's the proud owner of 2 coats of hair, an undercoat that protects him from an agitated biting cow, and another one to make him look "purty.". He's accessorized with this extra coat, especially the "saddle" or part from mid-back to his head.

If you don't know what a welsh corgi looks like, picture the Queen's dogs from across the seas. She's frequently surrounded by several Welsh Corgis that are dead ringers for Oscar Mayer. They have beautiful red and white fur, short, or "length challenged" legs, big donkey ears, and no tail.

Back to our Oscar. When I went to pick him up, they brought out a Caucasion looking weiner dog type thing. I looked around for my dog, getting a little agitated since I was there first, and why was this dog's owner getting taken care of before me. As soon as I opened my mouth, this corgi imposter jumped up at me. He seemed familiar in the eyes and the bark was unmistakable.

I thought I must've taken him to the sheep-shearer. His head was intact, exactly like I left him, a beautiful redhead, but his body looked a little like cream-colored indoor outdoor carpet, and wasn't even close to being natural redhead. My daughter says he looks like a bobblehead. When others aren't laughing, I've heard terms such as pot-bellied pig, and a few other choice descriptions.

Oscar's got brains, and with those big ears, he hears every comment made about him. Each time we took him outside right after his buzz cut, he hid his head, and tried to do a lot of duck and cover.

One passerby just asked what breed he was, and when I told him, he said he had never seen a dog with such short legs. I quietly tried to tell him so Oscar wouldn't hear, that we've been telling him how much taller he looks without all that hair on his legs and hind quarters. Then I said loudly, so Oscar wouldhear, he is SO much taller now without all his hair, wink, wink.

We keep telling Oscar all the benefits of having this much less hair. I'm not sure he's entirely convinced, but he doesn't hide his head anymore outside. Besides, his hair is now growing back in. Only thing is, instead of his beautiful natural red head, he looks like he got into one of my boxes of hair color, as he looks so blonde. I don't want to disgrace him further by having blonde jokes flying all around him.

So if you see Oscar anytime in the near future, please tell him how handsome, tall and red he looks. That would save a call or letter to Dr. Phil. Do dogs have self-esteem?

My last entry was about my beloved dog Brandy who has been gone for two weeks now. The household is so different, and our other dog, Oscar Mayer just mopes around and waits for her to come home. We'll all heal eventually I know, it's just so hard.

But I can't let go without taking about the veterinarian who made the experience a bit more bearable. Dr. Jennifer Aiello of Leaders Heights Animal Hospital was incredibly sensitive and walked us through everything that would happen. There was no question at all that this wasn't easy for her either. She exuded compassion.

And then in the following time, we've gotten two cards from Leader Heights Animal Hospital, one from Dr. Aiello, and another from all the staff at the vet. It touvched us deeply, and has taken some of the edge off the pain. I've often joked that if I need hospital care, Ithink a veterinary hospital would be the best place to go.

Thank you Leader Heights for helping us through.

Today I don't look for a little thing to savor. Anything that will lift my spirits will be memories from the past. Yesterday I lost my most perfect friend. Our chocolate lab, Brandy, was suffering from a medical condition that made her life hard. So I had to let go of the perfect relationship because that's what you do when you love someone.

She came into our lives eleven years ago, a bundle of dark chocolate fur with more energy than I've ever seen before. The roller coaster ride began the day we brought her home where she declared our space an amusement park, day in and day out.

She learned fast how to manipulate me into being her own stand-up comic audience. She mastered her techniques that never failed to crack me up. She did it in perfect sync, especially at times when I would need a laugh most. She taught me sheer joy--when she would roll in the grass on her back and look like she was laughing hysterically. She could transfer that simple appreciation of the moment to me, lightened the moment, the day, my life.

That doesn't mean I didn't get mad at her. One night before Thanksgiving, she had herself a royal feast, bigger than ours. We woke up to find she had eaten an entire bag of stuffing, a stick of butter, a loaf of bread, some cinnamon roll-ups I had made, and a pumpkin casserole, minus the broken shards of Corningware that spread across the floor. There may have been more, but memory can only hold so much.

I was mad.

My breakfast that morning was a bowl of grapes. One dropped on the floor, and Brandy dove for it. I actually dove for it at the same time declaring to her, that she wasn't getting the grape, after all she had eaten!! (yes, I know grapes are harmful to dogs anyway) But my motives were purely selfish and out of anger--the grape was a symbol of the fact that I still had some control.

She immediately went into a seizure that had us spending our Thanksgiving Day in the puppy emergency room, while our guests at home ate dinner. I was so afraid we were losing her that all anger melted immediately and when we took her home she could've had anything she wanted. But all she wanted was our love and attention. Which she got, in a big way. I promised her I'd never fight her for another grape!

The episode did not stop her from ingesting other things however. During her lifetime she consumed seashells, Brillo pads, entire bags of chocolate, entire loaves of bread, sometimes sparing the wrapper, but not always. This is just a sampling of her tastes, which included just about anything, edible or not.

But always, after I spurted out my anger, she'd just turn those liquid chocolate eyes up at me that just seemed to be saying, "yeah, but it was GOOD, and I had fun!" Hard to argue with her.

She weathered so many hard times with me. Like a breathing security blanket, she'd know when to quietly just hang close to me. She went through life with us, sometimes totally shaking up her world, but she just adapted. Four grandchildren became part of the family during her lifetime, which she welcomed with high spirits, even though in her zeal, she'd sometimes knock them down. She loved all six of the grandkids and declared it the most fun ever when they were here.

When my parents moved in, she took to beng their personal protector, especially mom. Visitors had to pass her inspection before they were allowed to be near her "grandma." One time she stood between the UPS delivery man and my dad believing the guy in brown clothes to be some kind of terrorist, I guess.

When Brandy came home eleven years ago, we already had a cat who tolerated Brandy, but never warmed up to her. Then we adopted a kitten who was headed for extermination. This kitten decided that Brandy must be his mom, and had no clue that dogs and cats are supposed to be enemies. He'd just curl up with her at any time he felt like it, or demanded that she play whether she wanted to or not. Brandy always looked like, okay little guy, I'm here for you.

Then a little welsh corgi joined our clan and demanded ALL the attention, Brandy just sort of stepped back and let him be the center of attention. He depended on Brandy for everything, especially when we'd walk them through the neighborhood, and anything, including a cricket would threaten the corgi. He'd then go back behind Brandy, as if to say "you want a piece of me? yeah, well, you'll have to deal with my big sister!" Worked well as Brandy took on that role too.

The corgi keeps walking around the house trying to find her, and has at times, just laid at the door waiting for her to come home.

Yesterday, I took her to the dog park for a bit of frolicking. She didn't have much energy, but she seemed to enjoy being there. And I took her out to her favorite, Sweet Willows, for a big bowl of vanilla ice cream. We hung together. AND I brought a grape from my granddaughter's lunch for Brandy. She played with it before eating it. I'd like to think that she remembered my promise to her. But that would be to feed my spirit, which is what animals do best.

My love of dark chocolate began eleven years ago. My heart is breaking, as it will continue to do so, I'm sure, for quite awhile. But my heart is bigger because of you, dear, perfect friend Brandy, even though you took part of it with you.

Both my husband and I have begun training to walk dogs at the SPCA so they get a bit of recess and fresh air.

There is nothing like the appreciation a dog gives you for the smallest gesture. Larry had a dog the other day that must be the social butterfly of the shelter "greeting" all the other dogs that were out in the yard.

I believe Blazer was asking the others what they were "in" for, and how long their sentence might be. He may even be the shelter lawyer, we don't know, but we do know he was a lot of fun.

And speaking of walking the dogs, so many unsung heroes to the canines are out there religiously getting the dogs out in the fresh air on a regular basis.

I firmly believe when you enrich the life of a pet, you really enrich the life of the person who adopts them.