I paid $25 for my Boxer mix and $65 for my Boxer... well, OK, I paid for my Boxer to be spayed and then my rescue gave her to me...hey, I said I was cheap. But she's 'defective' - she's deaf, and her eyes don't match. Did I say defective?? She's special! That's it, special... especially when she's eating my couch.
I wouldn't take any amount for either of them. You can't put a price on love. Trite, but true.
I wouldn't take any amount for either of them. You can't put a price on love. Trite, but true.
Dekka! Lol, funny...
And Agilitygirl121, we know you are just wondering, I have read it about 50 times, however, that doesnt make the thread less weird.
I am also wondering about this... You really do sound like you're trying to get rid of your dog! Therefore, some of us bashing you is understandable...
If you're 'just wondering' why do you sound so excited that someone sounds as if they want your dog (which I dont think she does)?
Sorry if I sound nasty.
And Agilitygirl121, we know you are just wondering, I have read it about 50 times, however, that doesnt make the thread less weird.
I am also wondering about this... You really do sound like you're trying to get rid of your dog! Therefore, some of us bashing you is understandable...
If you're 'just wondering' why do you sound so excited that someone sounds as if they want your dog (which I dont think she does)?
Sorry if I sound nasty.
I also got the impression that the OP wanted everyone to admire her dog and say they'd pay big $$$ because the dog was so great.
To the original poster, if you are reading this thread still . . .
You can't put a dollar value on a dog like you can a car or a house. Your parents spent thousands of dollars on your westie. I got my lab / border collie mix Ebony (RIP) for free. But how much we pay for our dogs isn't important. How can you put a price on puppy sneezes, cuddles, and sloppy doggy kisses from an oversized tongue? How do you appraise the worth of that moment when she first learns "sit" or runs to you with ears flopping when you holler "come!"?
My dog rarely barked but would "talk" to you in strange grumbles--"rawr raaor urrr EEEEEE-oooo!"--and she solemnly buried pancakes in private places after processing slowly around the yard, tail held at a somber angle. We roamed far and wide together, to the pavilion in the park where we shamelessly attached ourselves to the huge family picnics and snuck a hot dog or two for ourselves, and to Hart Field where we ran through the huge flocks of seagulls who settled right back down the moment we passed, and to the small, wild national park that was practically vertical, being down a steep hill, where we would hike all day sharing rations of bottled water and ham sandwiches.
And all those moments added up and made her valuable to me, so valuable, worth more than the smartest dog in the world or the most decorated show dog. No one else could have valued her as much as I did because it was our experiences together that CREATED the value. The love we shared . . . that was what made her priceless.
Everyone knows their dog is the very best in the world, no matter whether it's a purebred or a mutt, large or small, exuberant or shy. That's as it should be. Love your dog, tell us about your dog, share the endearing habits and fun times with us, but leave the dollars and cents behind--what are they but printed bits of paper and dead metal? The things that are truly valuable in life are neither limited nor defined by a price tag.
To the original poster, if you are reading this thread still . . .
You can't put a dollar value on a dog like you can a car or a house. Your parents spent thousands of dollars on your westie. I got my lab / border collie mix Ebony (RIP) for free. But how much we pay for our dogs isn't important. How can you put a price on puppy sneezes, cuddles, and sloppy doggy kisses from an oversized tongue? How do you appraise the worth of that moment when she first learns "sit" or runs to you with ears flopping when you holler "come!"?
My dog rarely barked but would "talk" to you in strange grumbles--"rawr raaor urrr EEEEEE-oooo!"--and she solemnly buried pancakes in private places after processing slowly around the yard, tail held at a somber angle. We roamed far and wide together, to the pavilion in the park where we shamelessly attached ourselves to the huge family picnics and snuck a hot dog or two for ourselves, and to Hart Field where we ran through the huge flocks of seagulls who settled right back down the moment we passed, and to the small, wild national park that was practically vertical, being down a steep hill, where we would hike all day sharing rations of bottled water and ham sandwiches.
And all those moments added up and made her valuable to me, so valuable, worth more than the smartest dog in the world or the most decorated show dog. No one else could have valued her as much as I did because it was our experiences together that CREATED the value. The love we shared . . . that was what made her priceless.
Everyone knows their dog is the very best in the world, no matter whether it's a purebred or a mutt, large or small, exuberant or shy. That's as it should be. Love your dog, tell us about your dog, share the endearing habits and fun times with us, but leave the dollars and cents behind--what are they but printed bits of paper and dead metal? The things that are truly valuable in life are neither limited nor defined by a price tag.
