My Best Friend

[Elianna]

You know... the 4 legged kind. Mine happen to be fuzzy with wagging tails.

So I've been out for a couple of days. After working 45 hours in three days, I finally was able to seriously check in and I saw the note from Abstruse.

It made me cry. (Yeah, so I'm a weepy female sometimes. )

But as I'm recovering this morning/day it made me think of this thread. With all of the political crap going around, Abstruse's pain reminded me of how unconditional love feels....

So here's a little about my best friends. Even though they've been abandoned for the last 3 days, they "sing" when I walk in the door. They're huskies (thus the singing), and one happens to be dropping her "summer coat" (eek the fur! ) I guess you're supposed to have huskies in pairs, so I have a matched set of females one black and white and the other brown and white. Both have blue eyes.

The best thing about my girls is they are snuggly. They have this thing about jumping half-way into my lap (a little large for lap dogs) and just nuzzling right between my neck and shoulder. You can hug them like that, and it's a good solid hug.

They're spoiled rotten. I buy them designer dog bones, designer dog food, and they have their own dog beds. Plus, they have the run of the house and a doggie door (which is great considering my recent long hours).

They're very educated; they listen to NPR while I'm gone and Jazz in the evening if I'm home past 7. They could probably vote more responsibly than 70% of the American population and have excelent chord improvisation techniques built by now.

One of them tolerates the cat, but the other views him as her personal play toy. He's happy to oblige because he'll sit on the coffee table and bat at their fuzzy, curly tails as they prance around.

But I guess the very best part of these best friends, is when you come home crying from a stressful day, they seem to know. They nuzzle into my lap and bring me their toys to make me feel better. They nip at my elbow to get me to play, and sing at me when I walk around.

Anyway, I figured I'd end this with a silly anectdote from when one of my huskies was a puppy. She loved to roll in the laundry once I sorted it in piles for washing. It so happened that I sorted the laundry, but had to stop to teach a piano lesson (I used to teach privately from my home.) Well... my dog managed to roll her neck into a bra and then couldn't get it off. So she came charging out of the bedroom, white lacy bra flapping in the wind down her back like a cape. She TORE around the house dodging my feeble attempts to catch her and pin her. My students started giggling, their mom started laughing, the dog was tearing around freaking out... bra was flapping in the wind...


Anyway. What antics have your pets done and how do they enhance your life?

-E

 

[JagFarlane]

Well, I've taken note of the two cats here. They're not really mine, but seeing as how their owner has been out to sea since May, and they've known me since June '07, I've been adopted by them.

When I had surgery in April, they would take turns sleeping around the couch, the big male on the loveseat next to the couch, and the smaller female on the back of the couch.

When I came back from surgery last Monday, they both seem to be taking turns sleeping on the bed. Usually I'll go to bed with the male on the bed and wake to the female there. Yesterday morning it was both of them, side by side, curled up against me. This morning it was the male by my legs and the female curled up against the pillows.

 

[voluptuary_manque]

Mine looks like this, pretty much.

http://i264.photobucket.com/albums/ii177/1volupturary_manque/drumcopy.jpg

She loves us to death but is walking death for anything smaller than she is and would give anything larger a good run for its money. As a friend of mine once put it, any true terrier knows that size is relative . . . to the ego! Hers is the size of a small planet.

 

[cloudy]

My best friend is, sadly, no longer here.

He was a blonde Australian Shepherd with two blue eyes (one darker than the other), and more intelligence than most people I've met.

He waited every morning with Spawn for the school bus, and in the afternoon, a few minutes before the bus got there, you could see Taz sitting at the end of the driveway (our house sat way back off the road), waiting patiently for the bus to arrive, so he could shepherd his charge back to the house. Somehow he knew exactly what time the bus would get there.

He took his guardian duty very seriously. I would have pitied anyone that came between him and any of my children, but he was my dog, and had been since the day we got him.

When he was still a puppy, he would charge boldly towards the coyotes in the fields next to the house, but backpedal if they turned to look at him. Later, I doctored many a booboo he earned in his scraps with the coyotes. He wouldn't tolerate them on his territory or around his family.

Snake killer extraordinnaire, we often found offerings on the back porch in the morning. Not all of the dead snakes had been harmless in life...there were as many copperheads and watermoccasins among the dead as there were blacksnakes. I don't know how Taz escaped being bitten, but he did.

He was also the gentlest of babysitters with my youngest, allowing C to crawl all over him, poke him in the eye and pull his tail with impunity.

If you "shot" him with a gun made of your hand, he would fall over "dead" - a ham actor at his worst. He would offer a kiss on your nose if you asked for one.

While I was at work one day, Taz was hit by a car, and badly dislocated his shoulder. I found him under the house that afternoon, and had to crawl under there with him to get him out. He must have been around seven or eight years old at the time. He healed eventually, but was never really the same after that.

One cold December morning, instead of him bouncing out to greet me at the barn while I was feeding the horses, I found him curled in a bed of hay, nose to tail, looking for all the world like he was asleep, but he wasn't.

One day, maybe I'll get another, but I don't think there is another.

 

[Safe_Bet]

My best friend is, sadly, no longer here.

He was a blonde Australian Shepherd with two blue eyes (one darker than the other), and more intelligence than most people I've met.

He waited every morning with Spawn for the school bus, and in the afternoon, a few minutes before the bus got there, you could see Taz sitting at the end of the driveway (our house sat way back off the road), waiting patiently for the bus to arrive, so he could shepherd his charge back to the house. Somehow he knew exactly what time the bus would get there.

He took his guardian duty very seriously. I would have pitied anyone that came between him and any of my children, but he was my dog, and had been since the day we got him.

When he was still a puppy, he would charge boldly towards the coyotes in the fields next to the house, but backpedal if they turned to look at him. Later, I doctored many a booboo he earned in his scraps with the coyotes. He wouldn't tolerate them on his territory or around his family.

Snake killer extraordinnaire, we often found offerings on the back porch in the morning. Not all of the dead snakes had been harmless in life...there were as many copperheads and watermoccasins among the dead as there were blacksnakes. I don't know how Taz escaped being bitten, but he did.

He was also the gentlest of babysitters with my youngest, allowing C to crawl all over him, poke him in the eye and pull his tail with impunity.

If you "shot" him with a gun made of your hand, he would fall over "dead" - a ham actor at his worst. He would offer a kiss on your nose if you asked for one.

While I was at work one day, Taz was hit by a car, and badly dislocated his shoulder. I found him under the house that afternoon, and had to crawl under there with him to get him out. He must have been around seven or eight years old at the time. He healed eventually, but was never really the same after that.

One cold December morning, instead of him bouncing out to greet me at the barn while I was feeding the horses, I found him curled in a bed of hay, nose to tail, looking for all the world like he was asleep, but he wasn't.

One day, maybe I'll get another, but I don't think there is another.

You made me cry, Cloudy. I'd have liked to met Taz.

 

[Tricialen]

I have two shih tzu's and my husband has a boxer/pit-bull mix. You would think that the boxer, Izzy ruled, but you would be so wrong. No, it's Teddie, or rather, Empress Theodora, who rules our lives. All eleven pounds of her.

Dimitris is the other shih tzu. He weighs twenty-two pounds and is Odey come to life. He is so goofy and playful that you just have to love him. Teddie is the Empress through and through. She is throughly spoiled and reminds us of it every minute of the day.

Izzy got his name because when he was a baby he would get into everything. I was always asking my husband; what is he into now? And that became his name, Izzy. He is super smart, so sweet and loveable, and he is a very fast runner. But he does not like the man from the lawn service. He really wants to eat him I think. Poor guy is really nice but Iz does not want him in his yard.

They are all different but they have one think in common. Unconditional love. When we don't feel like smiling, they do something that is so sweet or funny that we have to smile.

They are our babies and our best friends.

I'll have to scan some pictures of them and post them. They are an odd trio but they fit us perfectly.

 

[Emerald_Dragon]

We got our laborador as a puppy and two days later found out I was pregnant with our first. I like to think that our laborador is my first "blonde" child! After our daughter was born, when Rainy would come in from outside, she would check each room of the house until she found her. Our daughter learned to stand by pulling herself up on Rainy's jowls. Our daughters could do anythin to that dog when they were little, even take bones out of her mouth without a whimper of protest.

Rainy is a complete daddy's girl but she loves her "girls" and is their self appointed second mother. She is getting older now and has bad arthritis. I am going to miss her when she goes.

 

[Remec]

I'll admit it, I've never been all that much a pet person.

My very first one was a milky yellow and grey parakeet that flew off and never returned one day when I let him out of his cage to "help" mom while she was cleaning it. (I was, like, three at the time.)

I do recall having a turtle for a while; but I can't think of a name for him/it, so I am pretty sure that was a short lived experience.

But, I should have known shortly after I began dating Rowan that this was the place for me because the great golden lab-collie-something mix that she had gotten as a playmate for her oldest child (and as something of a watch/guard dog since her first husband was gone often, being in the Navy) not only was welcoming to me, but would follow my directions with not a lot of coaxing on my part.

When I saw Abs' thread (heck, when I saw the one Shereads posted before that) I was going to comment, but wasn't sure what I wanted or had to say.
Then I remembered that this was still on site, and sums my feelings up pretty well.

Big comforting hug for each and everyone of us who've ever had and lost a pet, and a wish for many blessed moments to come for those who still have loving animals in their lives.

 

[Guest]

Oh, Remec.

Beautiful poem. Made me cry.



We have a houseful of cats (six at present) but still, none of them are really mine, not since losing Jonesey.

Pixie, our newest rescued stray, and despite my objections, has chosen me. She's begun to follow me around, talk to me, snuggle, sleep next to me.

She's determined. I wonder how long it takes?

 

[OhMissScarlett]

We have this tri-color border collie/aussie mix, who Carson rescued from the street a few months ago. Nigel's about seven years old and was apparently dumped. I didn't exactly know how he would do with our family, but he's been fine. His primary job is herding my seven year old. He wakes kidlet up in the morning, rides to school with him, goes with me to pick him up and sleeps in front of his bedroom door at night. He lets kidlet use him as a pillow or foot rest. The rest of the time, the dog is stuck to me like velcro. If I pick up my purse, he's ready to go somewhere. He's still a little afraid of everything, but is acting more and more like a dog every day. When he wags his stubby tail, his whole body wiggles and that's just the highlight of my day.

 

[voluptuary_manque]

Oh, Remec.

Beautiful poem. Made me cry.



We have a houseful of cats (six at present) but still, none of them are really mine, not since losing Jonesey.

Pixie, our newest rescued stray, and despite my objections, has chosen me. She's begun to follow me around, talk to me, snuggle, sleep next to me.

She's determined. I wonder how long it takes?

She's already winning.

 

[Guest]

She's already winning.