reply to post by Haydn_17
it is an unusual relationship we humanzees can have with our "pets". i don't really care for that term "pets" too much, though. it seems to me
they are much more like our friends and family. we don't own them, and they are not really our property. they can sense our moods, and react
accordingly, often showing that they can feel for us. they can warn us of possible dangers, if we can listen to them.
it can be a unique relationship.
the first "pet" i cried over was a guinea pig. it was more than 30+ years ago. It wasn't really my pet, though. It was a classroom pet, and my
third grade teacher Mrs. Yates gave her to my family to take care of over the summer. during that summer it had passed away, and i was under the
impression i had failed more than just the guinea pig.
nearly two years ago i was going through alot in my life. i had been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Dissorder associated with Traumatic Brain
Injury due to being too close to some stuff that went boom. i was a firefighter in the united states air force, and after 11 years, i just could not
do it any more. i was depressed and worried about my future.
i was living outside Nellis AFB in Henderson Nevada with my parents and my 90 year old grandmother. my parents were on a cruise and i was
"grannysitting" while they were away, and i was waiting to get medically retired from the usaf.
it was around noon, and i was going out to the front porch to smoke a cig. the temperature outside was 112 degrees. when i opened the solid front
door, there was a small boston/french terrier mix dog sitting and shaking and panting. he was shaking because the fireworks the neighborhood children
were lighting off.
i opened the screen door, and he ran into the house (he'd never been in before) through the living room, through the kitchen, through the dining
room, down the hall, and into my grandmothers room. she was sitting in her chair playing crossword puzzles, and i was following behind him.
he entered her room, and just plopped down on her feet like he belonged there, still panting and still shaking. seemed like a nice enough dog. i got
him some water, and went outside and had my smoke.
then i went around to a few neighbor houses to see if anyone knew who he belonged to, but to no avail.
he had his animal shelter tags and registry number, but they were closed due to the national holiday (july fourth).
he never barked, but he obviously didn't like the fireworks.
the next day we found out who he belonged to about 16 houses away down another street.
a few days later my parents returned from their trip. My grandmother, who suffers from some memory problems and rarely remembers too many details,
but she is in excellent health for her age, kept asking about where the dog went to.
my grandmother can't tell you what she had for a meal five minutes ago, but she remembered that dog for a week and kept asking about it almost every
so, me and my mother late on a Friday evening went to the dog owners' house to see if we could just "borrow" or babysit the dog for them ever.
the owner said she had picked up the dog from the pound about a month ago, and that her big black lab had to get stitches in his face because this
little dog and it got into a fight.
She told us she had just given him a bath and that she was taking him back to the pound the next morning. he obvously did not like other dogs too
much, little dog syndrome some say.
thing is.... due to all the foreclosures at the time, the pound was overwhelmed, and any anti-social dogs were being put down after 3 days in the
we took him home.
grandma said "Guido" was a stupid name and she said his name is "Fido", not "Guido".
F.I.D.O. = Found Independence Day, Oh.
he makes a good friend, and definatley has personality, and after some work has a better relationship with other dogs these days.
he has helped me alot. he listens well, and doesn't interupt me, and talks back in his own way.
he had a rough puppyhood, and that is apparent. his tail is broken in a few places, like another dog chomped down on it. he spent god knows how long
in the pound, and had some emotional problems. he was skittish and scared and shook alot, but not any more unless it thunders outside.
now he is here snoring next to me on the couch as i type these words.
funniest thing is, i have rarely heard him bark when he is awake.
he barks more when he is sleeping and dreaming.
and when he is sleeping with me in my bed sometimes he wakes me up with his loud dreams.
last summer when we moved back to illinois, me and my brother live on the edge of town, sorta. woods and wildlife around us.
3 acres of land, he took off chasing a mother deer and her three fawns.
it was hillarious to watch. at one point i couldn't tell who was chasing who.
three deers and a dog, evenly spaced and running around in a big circle, the mother off to the side looking at them, and looking over at me. it was
like they were playing, no one kicking Fido, and Fido not biting any of them.
i think it helps to share stories we remember about our pets, to honor them and recognize they too have their own stories. i think you may find some
level of relief from your loss if you were to share some stories and how your cat made you feel.
here is a little poem for you and your friend:
forgive us if it is your soul we attempt to coax
but, we are pretty sure death is just a hoax
and we remember his purrs and how he loved us so gently
we honor our long lost friend, our companion named Bentley
[edit on 29-6-2010 by Esoteric Teacher]