Past dogs?

Every now and then I dwell on my past dogs. So then it got me to thinking that I don't know a lot of our forum members past dogs and that it would be neat to hear the stories about them. So post your past dog's stories!

Our first family dog that has any relevance to me was a GSD/Chow mix named Buster. He was probably what people describe as the perfect family dog, loyal, accepting, well behaved and tolerant. One of those dogs that just magically molded into what you expect him to be without a lot of influence. I used to practice "circus" dog training with him, making him perch on stumps and jump through hoops. He passed away when he was 9 due to a ruptured mass in his abdomen. I'll post a picture once I get one scanned in, he was before digital cameras!

We've had various other family dogs but none were really "mine". Scamper was an English Mastiff who after enduring hip surgery to fix his dysplastic hips ended up passing away at 4 years old due to untreated lyme disease. Shadow was a "free" puppy from the farm down the street, a GSD/Collie mix. She was a wonderful farm dog and would gather up the horses for my mom. Tripp is my dad's current dog, a who knows what mix that fills the shoes that Buster left.

When I turned 11, my parents got divorced. Their "I'm sorry" present to me was allowing me to get my dream puppy, a traditionally marked border collie named Buddie. I saved up all of my allowance in order to be able to afford him. He was my first introduction to clicker training and ended up learning countless tricks, some useful like turning off the lights and throwing away my trash others not so useful. He also introduced me to agility, we did a few trials here and there in the junior's divisions but lack of funds and willing parents limited our progression. I am still amazed to this day that we learned the sport of agility without a lesson or trainer involvement. Granted we had no contact behavior, and I had no clue the technical terms for anything, but we learned it and had fun! Buddie passed away when he was 10 from a heart condition that caused fluid to build around his heart. It was sudden and I will never forget our last days together.



More recently I had a harlequin Great Dane named Titan as some of you may remember from when I first joined the forum. I had to make the heart breaking decision to rehome him due to inter-household aggression that could no longer be managed between him and Classic. I absolutely do not regret this decision in any way and am thrilled to report that he is doing wonderfully in his new home. They spoil him rotten and he adores them. To be honest, he's probably thrilled that they let him be the couch potato that he wanted to be in my house. I trained him in agility but I could always tell his heart wasn't into it. I miss him still, and looking through his pictures to find one to post brought back too many memories.



We've had many, many fosters come and go as well, but they are for another thread at another time.

I had such a connection with all our dogs, I'll post them all.

We had JR and Pete. My parents' dogs. Pete was a field lab from a field trial kennel. JR was a 'collie', whatever that means.





The first really important dog for me was Shack. shack taught me to love dogs. He was a German Shepherd.... Well that's what we were told. Obviously there was some sort of scandal and the people that owned the parents didn't know their GSD male wasn't the daddy or they just lied that he was. I remember very clearly being upset that there was no 'Shack' in the dog book and adding in a page for Shack right next to the German Shepherd page.



Then we got Rosie, my first dog. I can't find many pics of her. She was crazy and really neat. A good little dog we lost far too soon.



Then Nikki... oh how I miss Nikki. Gosh I'm tearing up already. Nikki was my second sheltie and just such a neat dog. She died over 4 years ago now. I miss her, she was spit and vinegar. An old bitch with an opinion about everything. She was the first dog that really was MINE and chose me over anyone else. I picked her out of a newspaper ad, we took her home at 5 weeks. Pretty much did everything wrong but she was so good. She had so many quirks. She was terrified of bubblegum and fart noises, attacked the vacuum with a passion, and would mimic certain words you'd say. Pupperoni was her favorite treat and word. Ask her if she wanted a pupperoni and she'd start rooing something that sounded so suspiciously like puperoni. and she'd 'sing' to a very merry unbirthday from alice and wonderland. Nikki was my best friend growing up and through my early adulthood.

I also taught her tricks like jumping over hurdles I made out of things and through hoops. My friends and I would do talent shows and mine was always showing off Nikki's new tricks. She also loved playing catch when she was young and chase. I was so proud of her.

When she got old, she hated the papillons. I'm pretty sure she thought they were the most obnoxious things in the world. The paps loved to torture her because they knew she was so slow and arthritic that she would never catch them.

It cracks me up thinking simultaneously how much Nikki and Mia are alike and how much they would have HATED each other.



In 2008


And dear Trey. Trey was not my dog, he belonged to my sister. But I loved him so much and he loved me. I remember when he was 12 or so at my uncle's house. Trey was following me around just gazing up at me adoringly and my uncle said 'That dog loves you so much.' Trey was so simple sometimes. So odd and a little off. but he was a gentle soul and a real teacher for me. Probably the most gorgeous dog I have ever and will ever own. Even on the day he was put to sleep we had people telling us how gorgeous he was.

I miss him the most of all my dogs.

[/IMG]

Trey in the Fall by Summer_Papillon, on Flickr

And then the two, toughest fleeting little lives. Harry, who died at one year old from some sort of seizure. Then Hiro who died at 16 weeks from neuroaxonal dystrophy.

Harry was a cool dog, very Bernard-like. Chill and sweet and calm for a papillon. He was a really good dog.



Hiro was very bright and intelligent, full of fire. He never let his condition get him down. Losing him was very difficult.



And then there's all the current paps.

Well, there is King Charles (Charlie to those who know him).. I BEGGED my parents for a dog. I wanted a golden retriever but my mom HATES dog hair.. so o we ended up with a bichon frise.
As much as I WANTED to him to be mine.. He was my moms dogs through and through lol and honestly I kind of resented him for not being my water loving, tennis ball fetching golden.
He is about 11ish now. He is an english gentleman. I wish there was another way to describe him. He likes his casual strolls in the park (but that's IT exercise wise), he does not like to get dirty EVER, he greets visitors by calmly sitting next to them so they can pat him. He is the kind of dog who never needed training. Manners came effortlessly to him. My mom taught him to not scratch/lick himself anywhere but his crate, and to sit calmly to put his leash on, and to sit by his crate when the doorbell rings/not bark and he just..does. and she is BY NO MEANS a dog trainer.

He doesn't not like other dogs.. he doesn't like them either. It's just kind of a holier than thou tolerance for them. He doesn't even interact/notice other dogs. He totally ignores them like they are lesser beings.




He does like Romeo though. "like" as in..he will sometimes tolerate his playfulness instead of retreating to the couch.
[/IMG]

Then came..Kenya. The most rash decision I've ever made.
I volunteered at the animal shelter in Miami a lot.. this crowded awful place. and one day I saw this mangy little thin GSD girl in a kennel and just wanted her. and brought her home.

My parents were beyond furious. I was in high school, going away for college and it wasn't time for a dog.
The plan was to foster her and adopt her out.. I mean, how hard could it be? She was purebred.
...and then the honeymoon period ended and her true colors shined on through. She was an anxious nervous wreck of a dog. Scared of 99% of people.
She LOVED other dogs and loved those she knew.. but strangers, noises, unexpected things.. she was a wreck.

and so, she stayed.
but when I went to college, things changed. She needed a lot of exercise, so my parents hired a dog walker, doggy day care, kept up with her raw diet.. did everything they could. But she needed a PERSON, and they were just too busy. My parents are not really "big active dog" people. She was miserable frankly.. I came home from college, saw what her life was like, how bad her anxiety had gotten.. and made the tough decision to rehome her to someone who had the time for her and other dogs her size to play with.


she helped me raise an orphan litter of foster pups!


I don't regret rehoming her for an instant. She is so happy.
Her in her new home


Oh and the puppies!!
Dallas, Vegas, London and Paris. They were fosters from the shelter.. what a mess.
Liquid wormy poops, constantly crying, handfeeding.. Jesus lol they lived in my bathroom.
But they eventually found new homes and are now huge.


them now


and finally.. last but not least. Romeo.
My supposed to be forever dog.
I was a sophomore in College, living on my own in an apartment and wanted a dog.
I wanted a pap puppy actually lol but somehow, Romeo, a full grown LC chihuahua, ended up in my lap.

He made college fun. He was just what I needed to branch out, make friends..



Well, I missed a class I was required to take so ended up needing to do another semester at the school where I was before transferring. Not wanting to sign a lease for a year just for 4 months.. It was agreed Romeo would stay with my parents til I was done. and that was fine.
Well, Romeo and my mom were out walking and he was attacked by a pitbull off lead.
His injuries were bad.. he needed quite a few surgeries, physical therapy, bandage changes, rest.. it was a mess. My mom could barely deal with his care and the environment (on the 52nd floor of a dog friendly condo with other dogs in the apartment) wasn't exactly great for healing.
My cousin jumped up the chance to care for him. And so she did.. they went to physical therapy appointments, she took him to work, changed his bandages, feed him with a spoon lol did everything.

Well, then the earthquake in Haiti happened. She tragically lost her mom..and soon after.. her father took his own life. She was a wreck. Wanted to see no-one, talk to no-one..
She told me the only thing she had left was Romeo and that he was the sunshine in her life.
I still had a few months left at school and by the time I returned and taking him back was even an option.. it wasn't.
I loved him with all my heart.. but he was HER heart dog. And you could tell just being around them. At that point, she had had him longer than I did, went through more and just..needed him.

To make matters even worse..I babysat him for a weekend and found out the attack had done a NUMBER on his behavior. He was now dog aggressive.. badly. My building is full of dogs and by a park.. he was miserable around all the strange dogs.
2 behaviorists later.. they are working on his issues together.

I love the little brat, and do miss him.
but sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall into place. I realized that he was happier with her and keeping him would be pretty selfish, he wasn't happy living around other dogs and they had been through so much together.. and really, how can I look at them like this and think I made the wrong decision? lol
at the end of the day, I believe he ended up where he was supposed to be.
Spoiled rotten of course.

You know what this thread has made me do? Now I'm sitting here thinking I need a sheltie puppy RIGHT NOW.

All these stories and pictures are making me happy and sad at the same time...so many memories, good, bad and bittersweet.

I really need to remember to grab the family photo albums next time I'm home and scan in pictures...

The dog we had when I was growing up was a BYB Cocker Spaniel named Quincy. He was enormous. Fat, too, but enormous even beyond being fat. He was a good dog. He was not the stereotypical Cocker. I find most of the Cockers at work disappointing because they don't measure up to Q.



My first dog as an adult living on my own was Siren, the Miniature Poodle. She belonged to an elderly woman who had to move into a nursing home and could no longer keep her. She had been a longtime client at the veterinary hospital where I was working, and one of the doctors offered to take her in and find a home for her. She lived in the kennels and the doctor asked if I could let her out with me on my overnight shifts. At first I couldn't stand her- she was 15 1/2, senile, not housebroken, paced and paced and paced and paced all night long. But as we got to know each other, I fell in love with her and she stopped pacing. It was only right that she come home with me. So, yeah, she was ancient, had congestive heart failure, glaucoma, kidney insufficiency, and was totally senile, but she was the sweetest little dog and I loved her very much. I had her for a year or so.



She gave me a love for old dogs, and after a number of years, I adopted Harvey from the shelter. Harvey was an old black pit bull who'd already been returned once. I didn't know how he was still alive, honestly. There was just something special about him that the shelter people recognized. He had lived at the shelter for over a year before being adopted the first time, and they had a soft spot for him. They bent the rules to send him home with me.

Harv was awesome. He was old. He wasn't playing with quite a full deck of cards. He was afraid of the camera, afraid of the pooper scooper, afraid of the clicker, afraid of thunderstorms. But he had the most gentle spirit, and he was a wonderfully silly, goofy kind of dog.



Poor Harv ended up with some issues. He had to have an eye removed due to past trauma. He started having seizures, which eventually were uncontrollable with medication and were the reason I had to put him to sleep. He had an ear hematoma. He had a tooth root abscess. And I had said I wasn't going to put a lot of money into him. HAHAHAHA. But he was worth it. Completely worth it.

Really good thread!

We still frequently talk about our past dogs and have such fond members (and not-so-fond also, lol) of them. Great part of my childhood though.

I started being a dog lover from the time I was born, LOL. I BEGGED my parents for a dog from ages 2-4, and then finally for my 5th birthday, "I" got Daisy, our Golden Retriever. Of course, being 5 years old, she ended up becoming more my fathers dog. But she taught me a lot. She was so patient with me. I also still have a scar on my knee from her - I always say I'll have a piece of Daisy forever with me. She was a pup, I was young, and we were playing fetch with a toy passing from one person to the next and her claw dug into my knee. I needed 7 stitches.... and I still loved that dog, lol. I came home and she slept with me all night and kissed my face as if to say she was sorry. But she was an awesome loyal dog, who LOVED my dad. And when he was going thru the divorce with my mom, she was really all he had for a while.
Me and Daisy:


Sadie. My first "heart dog" I think. I mean, it doesn't come close to what Jackson and I have, but I was so much younger. We got Sadie when I was 10. She came at a very devastating time in my life when my parents were getting divorced, but not only that, my mom was having a baby with another man. It was a confusing time for me, so I got her out of sympathy from my dad. We were sooo not ready for a GSD and we got her from a terrible place (in a Baltimore City rowhouse) and we should have known when the parents were aggressively barking at us to NOT take her. But we did anyways. She was MY baby. God I loved that dog. She connected with me more than anybody and slept in my bed every night. I tried to train her, the best I could. But she didn't get much more than just being in the fenced in backyard and that was it. We moved, and she ended up attacking someone that came on our property, and being put down on my first day of high school at a brand new school. I was devastated. Cried for days. I still miss her and regret everything we did wrong with her.




Carmen was a cockapoo that my little brother picked out from a pet store. He just WANTED that dog sooo bad, and my mom and step-dad were NOT ready for a dog, they are not good dog owners, lol. That poor pup was shuffled from house to house and kept in a crate for way too long. But, Connor loved her so. She was just... very sweet. After Connor died at the age of 5, Carmen truly became a part of the family though. She was a farm dog through and through. She had free roam but allowed inside whenever she wanted and slept in my moms bed. She would pick up snakes and fling them around, and block groundhogs out in the farmfield and not let up. It really was amazing to see. I brought Jackson home about 8 months before she passed away and she really taught him the ropes and ended up loving him a lot. She became more like my dog really. She annoyed me sometimes, she was so OCD - she was a dog that broke through EVERY screen in the house, and would just scratch on a door for hours trying to get out, etc. But I miss her and she was a part of Connor. She got run over by a car.

Carmen at Connor's gravesite:

This. Bittersweet. But I thought it was almost shameful that we don't have these memories posted because really, would we be on this forum if it wasn't for our past dogs?

My first dog was Foxy, a pomeranian from a petstore. I loved foxes, and when I was 5 years old my dad surprised me with a little fox looking puppy.

We had Foxy for about 2 years. He would constantly pee everywhere, and had horrible anal gland infections. My uncle would watch him when we went on vacations, and my parents decided that Foxy would be better off living with him. It definitely made me very sad.

I wish I had a picture of him scanned in. I have a bunch at home.

We started going to dog shows when I was 7 or 8 years old to find our next breed of dog. My dad convinced my mom and I that a dalmatian would be the perfect breed. I wanted a little dog like a Yorkie that I could put bows in its hair We went on a waitlist for a dal puppy, and Lilly came home when I was 8 years old. This was before the whole dalmatian craze!

Me and Lilly by Chihuahuaesque, on Flickr



Lilly went into renal failure at the age of 10, right after my freshman year of college. After staying at the vet's office for 3 nights, my parents made the decision to have her put to sleep. It was one of the hardest days of my life.

Next is Daisy, a toy poodle. We adopted her when I was 14 years old. She was probably ~8-10 years old at the time. She was very sweet, but a very cranky old lady. She was very, very attached to my mom. She had heart issues and had cardiologist appointments. She was put to sleep a couple of years after Lilly.



My first dog as an adult was Madison. We bought him from a bad situation (BYB, and he was in a rubbermaid tub filled with cedar shavings). When Chloe was a puppy, he would constantly attack her and Rylie. We made the decision to find him a home without other dogs. We get regular pictures and updates on him, and he's doing so well!



Next up is Roxi. Ian worked at Petsmart during college for a few months, and someone dropped Roxi off there. Ian wasn't at work at the time, but his manager called us because we had chihuahuas. Roxi was about 6 weeks old, full of worms, had an eye infection, an ear infection, was dehydrated, and no one was willing to take her to the vet.



As soon as we took her, she went straight to the vet. We kept her until she was 12 weeks old, and adopted her out to a woman that LOVES her. I still regret adopting her out. I had already made plans to get Chloe and couldn't keep them both.

Here's what adult Roxi looks like!





We fostered "Noob" for a few months. He was not my type of dog at all! He was about 10-15lbs, older, and I found him running down the road on my way to work one morning. We adopted him out as an only dog.

Great thread! I love reading everyones' stories.

Not counting the fosters that have come and gone, I've only had one previous dog. We didn't have a dog at all until I was in fourth grade - my parents surprised us one day by bringing home a one-year-old male collie, who we named Danny Boy. Danny was a rescue, and spent the first year of his life on a farm with a bunch of other dogs. He had been somewhat neglected and came to us 20 pounds underweight - he was a skinny minny. We fixed that pretty quickly, haha.

I still vividly remember the day my mom brought him home - she was very late home from work and my dad wouldn't tell me where she was. I was so thrilled when she pulled in with a big, hairy dog in the backseat. Danny had some issues at first; he had lots of energy and not a lot of experience being an inside dog, so he was pretty wild. He didn't know how to do stairs, paced when he got anxious, and nipped when anyone moved too fast (ah, herding dogs). But he grew to be such a good dog. He was the quintessential family dog - affectionate, loyal, tolerant, obedient, and oh so stable. Nothing ever fazed him in the slightest, and he loved everyone and everything. I did 4H with him, and he behaved for me so well. I wish I had known more modern training methods at the time (we used a choke chain on him), because he was a very smart dog and probably would have loved agility.

We lost him suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 7 - unknown to us, he had developed a spleenic tumor, which ruptured and killed him almost instantly. I was away at a dog show with Cricket and didn't get to say goodbye. Still miss my big fluffy dog, and I'd love to get another collie someday.

Max was my childhood dog, we got him from a rescue group when I was 4. He was a good boy, loved kids, loved everybody. He would excited pee whenever we had guests until he turned like 8 years old. When we were young he spent every night in my oldest brother's bed, then when he was in college he spent every night in my bed. He ran away a LOT because he didn't get enough exercise, luckily we always got him back safe and sound. He and Neko loved each other, he was sooooo good with the cats and I could be holding my gerbils next to his head and he wouldn't pay any attention to them. He was a really good family dog. He died shortly after I joined the forum, we went to the vet because he started having episodes of not wanting to walk and randomly yelping, he ended up being full of tumors, he was 10. We tried pain meds and anti- inflammatory pills but they made him act out of it and within a few days he fell down and couldn't get back up, he was put down the next day, my 15th birthday. I have a lot of regrets about him, how he was trained, what he was fed, that he never got walked or brought to the park, that sort of thing. But he was loved, my parents always say how they wish Tucker was more like him.

He would spend HOURS sitting on his picnic table. When it broke we bought a new one for him because we couldn't possibly leave him without one. When I would walk him people would stop and ask if he was the picnic table dog.


He was a sun worshiper, would literally get too hot to touch. He also crossed his front legs all the time.



He would get SO excited for Christmas, just as excited as us kids. We'd get him a stocking of toys and hand them to him one by one, he'd run around crying with each one and then place them all in a pile and lay in front of them crying.


He loved his kitties



If one of us was playing on the floor he would sometimes get on our backs to hump us and so we'd stand up and do a cha cha line




He had a ton of extra skin around his neck, so this isn't as brutal as it looks lol


As an old man, with his unfortunate facial growth

Having a dog who thinks she is above other dogs and only tolerates being with other dogs because it's what I want has meant we've only ever had the one dog, we got her when I was 6.

I love reading the stories, though! I could definitely feel the love y'all had for your dogs, just from reading about them.

I can't upload any photos right now but I have to say I've enjoyed your stories as well.

My first *my* dog was Tucker(15 yr old wheaten), then Hannah(12 yr old rat terrier), then Arnold(8 yr old pit bull) whom I still have(the other two live with my parents). I'll post photos and stories of them later when i have computer access along with the family dogs like the GSPs, pit bulls, and terriers I grew up with.

I only had one dog growing up - while my parents both like dogs, I'm sure it would have been a pet-free family were it not for my persistence. Because I had a lot of problems with allergies when I was younger, finding a "hypo-allergenic" dog was a priority. We were watching Westminster one year, and my aunt said "If I was going to get a dog, I'd get a Bedlington Terrier. They are cute." So, we did. To be fair to my parents, they did things the right way, found a great breeder who kept in touch with us throughout Medley's life, even when she was in a nursing home. She adore her dogs and raised them very well.

Medley was a very, very good dog given how little we knew and how little we did with him. He was a terrible resource guarder, but otherwise very easy to live with. He lived for over 15 years, and adjusted to our lives as the kids grew up, mom went back to work, and every other change. He would get very distraught if anyone was crying, would spend hours sitting under a tree if he had a squirrel up it, trained my mother to feed him biscuits non-stop while she was on the phone, was very respectful of our huge cat, and, as I said, was just a good dog.

Oh man I just had a dusty trip through old pictures.

I don't have any pictures of my childhood family dog, but he wasn't really mine. I was too young when we got him, he was really my brothers' dog. He was a cockapoo named Charlie.

Desire was my first dog as an adult. My boyfriend at the time was opposed to the idea of getting a dog, ostensibly because we were both students (I had just been accepted to vet school and he had just been accepted to medical school) but I suspect he just didn't want dogs. We lived together so there really was no just getting my own dog. The vet school kept a small herd of retired racing greyhounds as blood donors, and students were allowed to walk them, take them home for a weekend, stuff like that. Also, we could "foster" them until we graduated - which really just meant we had to bring them in for periodic blood donations - and then adopt them permanently. I had been getting my dog fix by walking them, and when my boyfriend and I broke up for unrelated reasons I was in a dog-allowing rental with my girl by that weekend, aheheh.

She was a really amazing dog, she got me through some very difficult times in my life and in a lot of ways she helped me really grow up. If you ever want to weep, I'll post the memorial I wrote for her when she died, but that is for a different day.

This is a bad scan, but this is her as a young adult.


Older, in her spot on the couch.


And as an old, old lady (15 years) in her princess bed.


Roxy was my second dog, a rottie/GSD mix. I just can't even put into words how fantastic she was. She is the dog that I will measure all dogs to come against, my heart dog for sure. I miss her every single day.

ETA: At the time, I had a roommate who was moving out with her dog and I didn't think Desire would do well alone (plus I just kind of wanted another dog). This was in the day before Petfinder (hell, really even before the internet) and I remember one of my friends/classmates and I drove to every single shelter in the Twin Cities and found her at the very last one, sitting in a corner run backed up against the wire, looking mournfully at us. I was like "rott/shep, I dunno..." but took her to the visiting room where she climbed into my lap and I was in love.

Bad scan, just came home at around 6 months. God she was adorable.



All growed up, still has head tilt.


Everyone loved her.


After Desire died and Pip came home... Pip absolutely adored her. Honestly, I'm not sure he's ever been quite the same since she died.


As an old lady.


more...

Chessie... yes, the Chesapeake Bay Retriever. I didn't name her, and when she came to me as a 7 year old I figured that ship had sailed. She was brought to me for euthanasia for being aggressive. I'm not going to go into all the gory details, but this dog did not have an aggressive bone in her body. What she did have was shitty hips and an owner who wanted an excuse to get a shiny new hunting dog. (Whoops, I went into some of the gory details!) So I managed to talk them into letting me have her.

This is my favorite picture of her, ever. She always seemed a little melancholy, like she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And she looks so carefree here.


Sleepy girl


As an old, old lady... but still a die-hard retriever.





Sigh. Such good dogs.

Today is a good day to talk about this as today would have been Jack's 16th birthday. I lost him just this last December. He was my good boy, the first dog that was ever MINE, he was the first dog to welcome every other dog I got into the home. While I'm glad he's fee from his epilepsy now, I still miss him every day. He was such a good boy.


I don't have a picture of him, but I should mention my childhood dog, Bear. He was a big, black Newfie X Lab. My parents had him before I even came along and he always let me and my sister climb all over him, and he was extra protective of us kids. He loved to dog holes and fetch rocks. I don't remember him overly clearly, but I know I loved him and he was the first dog that started my love for them.


Then there is Beagle, who just died in April. She was my sisters dog but do to her job and living situation she lived with me for the last few years. I didn't like her when she first came into my life, she was as houndy as a hound could be, getting into everything, stubborn, baying at any little thing, and was just a hard headed little jackass. She grew on my eventually though and she became one of the crew, she was always so good with other dogs and extra friendly. She loved to snuffle around in everything and did the cutest (not very often) zoomies. She came to us as a senior so I didn't have that long with her, but I miss her just as much as if she had been with me her whole life.



And together.

Belle



The family got Belle out of a newspaper when I was 6 years old. She was from a typical outdoor dog accident litter and was a wonderful family dog. That dog was my guinea pig for EVERYTHING. Fortunately for both of us, she was quite the foodie and so went along with my many attempts to train her. She was an attention seeking, bread loaf stealing, squirrel and motorcycle chasing, loud mouth of a dog, but she was the most bombproof animal around people. I loved that dog. She passed at the age of 9 due to liver cancer and is now buried in the backyard.
-----------------------------------
I've also had quite the handful of fosters that have passed through these doors.


Eadon

This little guy was my first foster ever and though I don't remember much about his quirks, he was a good little dude.

Corey


Biscuit


Sassy


Sassy was such a weird dog. She was as fat as she could be and was a food addict. Carrots, peas, ice, you name it, that dog would eat it. She was a talkative little thing and never hesitated to growl her disapproval, approval, happiness, sadness, or excitement to you at every opportunity. She was quite the diva, but was truly a good little dog.


Lindy


Lindy was a dog that I fostered after Belle died but before we adopted Boo. She was a seven year old who-knows-what that a fellow rescuer had pulled from a rural shelter in order to attend an adoption event up in NoVA. Her euth date had been reached and without a foster or adoptive home that day, she would have been transported back to that shelter to be killed. I couldn't help myself and I brought her home. She went to her new home within 2 weeks and I actually received a wonderful, unexpected email about her at the end of last year updating me on how she's enjoying her golden years. She was adopted nearly 4 years ago, so the email was completely out of the blue and put a huge smile on my face.

Stud Muffin


What a name! This little guy was my first true puppy foster and he was definitely quite the typical puppy. I was very much his 'mommy' and he cried whenever I left the room, regardless of whoever else was there to play with him. We did our best to curb him of this before he left for his new home. I recently received an update on him and apparently he is doing well and enjoys barking at doorbell sounds on TV.

Audrey and Maryland


These two were absolute cuties. I've received updates on Audrey, but unfortunately Maryland's adopter dropped out of touch a few weeks after her adoption. Audrey is now apparently living the life of luxury and enjoying her kitty playmate.

Audrey now (from her adopters)


Evan (Kobe)



I adored this little guy. I had him for the longest I've had any of my puppies and he was just a blast! Also a typical puppy, but really just a good little guy. He's now in a home with a family that adores him and is about a year and a half old!

My wonderful, fabulous Molly. I was 6 years old when we adopted her. She was about the billionth dog that we looked at, and I decided to stay home because I thought it was most likely that we would not bring her home - and, in my 6 year old mind, driving an hour away was VERY FAR away lol.

So my first memory of her is as follows: I'm in the backyard jumping on our trampoline, my mom gets home with Molly and lets her loose in the yard and Molly came tearing through like hell on wheels and jumped up on the trampoline and practically took me out.

She was the most wonderful dog ever. So eager to please, such a gentle and wise soul, so devoted to her family. She is responsible not only for my love of dogs, but my love of animals in general. I sobbed into her fur many, many times... she was always there to lick away the tears and always there to celebrate my happy moments, too. She was my best friend. She saw me through elementary school, junior high, high school, and was a constant in my life.

Worst day of my life was having her put to sleep... never got to give her the goodbye that I wanted to.

I was always grabbing pillows so that I could sleep on the floor with her



Ooooold lady

It's cool to see another Chessie here!

My first 2 dogs as a kid were a Lab/GSD mix and a Lab. They were great dogs that tolerated my "training" of them as a kid.



My next dog was a Chessie that we got when I was around 12, and she was the best dog I've ever known. She was the stereotypical "stubborn" Chessie (wouldn't listen to my mom at all, lol) with a potential aggressive side to people not in the family, but she was my heart dog. She had so many hilarious quirks and she was the biggest pig of a dog ever. Nothing could stop her from stealing food and I remember her pooping out way too many weird things...foil from the easter eggs she stole, plastic bags from the marshmallows she ate. We had a big stain on our deck for years after she gorged on oil from a deep fryer and puked it up. She would always whine with excitement while she ate her kibble, she was just that happy to be eating.