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pipedreams
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On 3/22/2024 at 6:00 AM, pipedreams said:

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I have 4 memories.......... :sadangel:

 

On 3/28/2024 at 5:48 AM, pipedreams said:

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My Sophie is 17 years old,  I got her when she was 14 and dumped by her family.........  I hope she know just how much she is loved now....

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10 minutes ago, janice6 said:

I have 4 memories.......... :sadangel:

 

My Sophie is 17 years old,  I got her when she was 14 and dumped by her family.........  I hope she know just how much she is loved now....

Two old dogs tripping down the path of life together, what could be better.

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7 minutes ago, janice6 said:

I have 4 memories.......... :sadangel:

 

My Sophie is 17 years old,  I got her when she was 14 and dumped by her family.........  I hope she know just how much she is loved now....

You must be able to "sign on" for everything that comes with having a "dog own you pee and poops, throwing up, vet bills. buying food, (and finding what he/she can and won't eat...Walking him/her in the rain, snow(if so required) barking at everything, taking over your couch/bed., planning for vacations, and the SORROW when they die.......etc...etc... But the smile that they bring to you face every time is WORTH EVERYTHING

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Well, my youngest daughter and I buried our oldest dog today.  Sunny was 16+, a Sheltie/Australian Shepherd cross (we referred to him as a Shaussie) confiscated from a nasty hoarding situation with 51 other dogs as a puppy.  He was the Tom Cruise of dogs - pretty to look at (like coyote-sized fox) but neurotic as all get out.  He would fetch balls and frisbees until your arm fell off (even with the Chucker).  15 years ago, he got caught in youngest daughter's dragon trap in the yard, thus proving to her 6 year old mind that her trap would work if a dragon came through.  He cost thousands in vet bills over the years.  And killed oldest daughter's favorite hen.  So he definitely wasn't perfect.  He wasn't my favorite dog (that was Vinnie, who put up with Sunny's stupid attempt to attack him by simply walking slowly and regally out of the room with Sunny hanging off his neck (Vinnie outweighed him by over 100# and Sunny's head would have fit in his mouth.  Then Vinnie shook him off and stepped on him.  Sunny never did it again).    He went on backpacking trips with my husband.  He slept on the foot of oldest daughter's bed as a foot warmer for years, until he couldn't get on the bed anymore.  His bark was painful to my ears, and he was allergic to affection, sneezing on anyone who tried to pet his head.  But he loved butt scritches.  I'm glad he's not suffering anymore (last week was bad, he would cry in his sleep).  The last three days he rallied and managed a couple short walks and he played with his favorite toys and got lots of treats (and Spike was jealous and had to stick his big head in between every time).  We buried him with his blanket and his favorite toys overlooking the hill where he'd chase balls and frisbees up and down. I'm going to fire up the tractor and move some rocks now.

 

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4 minutes ago, Mrs.Cicero said:

Well, my youngest daughter and I buried our oldest dog today.  Sunny was 16+, a Sheltie/Australian Shepherd cross (we referred to him as a Shaussie) confiscated from a nasty hoarding situation with 51 other dogs as a puppy.  He was the Tom Cruise of dogs - pretty to look at (like coyote-sized fox) but neurotic as all get out.  He would fetch balls and frisbees until your arm fell off (even with the Chucker).  15 years ago, he got caught in youngest daughter's dragon trap in the yard, thus proving to her 6 year old mind that her trap would work if a dragon came through.  He cost thousands in vet bills over the years.  And killed oldest daughter's favorite hen.  So he definitely wasn't perfect.  He wasn't my favorite dog (that was Vinnie, who put up with Sunny's stupid attempt to attack him by simply walking slowly and regally out of the room with Sunny hanging off his neck (Vinnie outweighed him by over 100# and Sunny's head would have fit in his mouth.  Then Vinnie shook him off and stepped on him.  Sunny never did it again).    He went on backpacking trips with my husband.  He slept on the foot of oldest daughter's bed as a foot warmer for years, until he couldn't get on the bed anymore.  His bark was painful to my ears, and he was allergic to affection, sneezing on anyone who tried to pet his head.  But he loved butt scritches.  I'm glad he's not suffering anymore (last week was bad, he would cry in his sleep).  The last three days he rallied and managed a couple short walks and he played with his favorite toys and got lots of treats (and Spike was jealous and had to stick his big head in between every time).  We buried him with his blanket and his favorite toys overlooking the hill where he'd chase balls and frisbees up and down. I'm going to fire up the tractor and move some rocks now.

 

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Some of the worst days of our lives are having a dog die or having to put one to sleep (worse)     :cry:

But ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN   :angel:

So sorry     daka

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16 hours ago, Mrs.Cicero said:

Well, my youngest daughter and I buried our oldest dog today.  Sunny was 16+, a Sheltie/Australian Shepherd cross (we referred to him as a Shaussie) confiscated from a nasty hoarding situation with 51 other dogs as a puppy.  He was the Tom Cruise of dogs - pretty to look at (like coyote-sized fox) but neurotic as all get out.  He would fetch balls and frisbees until your arm fell off (even with the Chucker).  15 years ago, he got caught in youngest daughter's dragon trap in the yard, thus proving to her 6 year old mind that her trap would work if a dragon came through.  He cost thousands in vet bills over the years.  And killed oldest daughter's favorite hen.  So he definitely wasn't perfect.  He wasn't my favorite dog (that was Vinnie, who put up with Sunny's stupid attempt to attack him by simply walking slowly and regally out of the room with Sunny hanging off his neck (Vinnie outweighed him by over 100# and Sunny's head would have fit in his mouth.  Then Vinnie shook him off and stepped on him.  Sunny never did it again).    He went on backpacking trips with my husband.  He slept on the foot of oldest daughter's bed as a foot warmer for years, until he couldn't get on the bed anymore.  His bark was painful to my ears, and he was allergic to affection, sneezing on anyone who tried to pet his head.  But he loved butt scritches.  I'm glad he's not suffering anymore (last week was bad, he would cry in his sleep).  The last three days he rallied and managed a couple short walks and he played with his favorite toys and got lots of treats (and Spike was jealous and had to stick his big head in between every time).  We buried him with his blanket and his favorite toys overlooking the hill where he'd chase balls and frisbees up and down. I'm going to fire up the tractor and move some rocks now.

 

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I'm very sorry for your loss. You gave him a good life. Prayers sent. tom.

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