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December 04, 2004dogsI can't just leave that post below without saying something else. I don't like cats, but I love dogs. I've had three really good ones in my life, and I killed all three of them. I did that because I couldn't stand to see them suffer anymore. The youngest one was nine years old. A good dog WORSHIPS you. You are Tall Dog, God Of All Things and the HMFIC in doggy world. You provide food, you bring water, and you make fire in the house when it's cold outside. Dogs are impressed by that kind of shit. YOU can tell your dog to sit down and shut up, and he will, because you are keeper of the Big Foot In The Ass and the Wrathful Slap On The Nose, accompanied by much cursing. Dogs are impressed by THAT shit, too. But if you have somebody fuck with you, he's got the dog to fight, too. Dogs are territorial and protective. They take care of what they believe to be their own. Dogs that adopt you are on your side, no matter what the odds. Yeah. They'll fight for YOU, and death be damned. They'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. That's what's so painful about putting a good dog down. He TRUSTS you. You've always fixed what was wrong and taken care of him. He LOVES you. Look into those big, loyal eyes right before the needle goes into the leg. Watch the light go out in those eyes. Man. That's the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. Comments
In March 2003 I put down one of the two BEST dogs I have ever shared my life with. I mourn them both still. Posted by: Christina on December 4, 2004 09:55 PMI had to release my best friend too. I still cry like a baby if I think too much about it. He was a big galoot and proud as hell. There will never be another like him. Posted by: delftsman3 on December 4, 2004 10:04 PMSpeakin of Dawgs, you must be busy watching yours play. OOOH WAIT, they didn`t get to play today. Sorry I forgot. Why the hell can't the bomars produce a dog that can last 40 years? Damnation. I was a 6'2" 240# mass of blubbering idiocy in the vet's office a few years ago. Hell, I stayed with Max for at least a half an hour after he was gone. Bottom line was, I couldn't see through the tears well enough to drive home. I finally mustered the 'nads to make the 2 mile journey home. Wouldn't ya know it, I got pulled over for "weaving in my lane". The cop was understanding once I told him my story. When I next have to deal with this shiot, I am going to dig a hole in my backyard and do the deed myself. Hopefully, that won't happen soon. Posted by: rightisright on December 4, 2004 11:41 PMHey, it's just as bad with cats, with the mitigation (possibly) that the cat's a little dumber, and may not make the connection, and blame you for it. I've been there when they put the needle in. I've also had to bury the remaining pieces of a kitten, killed and half-eaten by, presumably, a dog. Yah, I know cats are predators, too, and all that. You pretty much expounded, above, why I don't care for dogs as pets. Now, I have no problems with having dogs work for you. That's what they're bred for. Some people have, and breed, large numbers of hounds to go after bears, expecting that they'll lose a half-dozen dogs for each bear they get. Sure, yer genetic slaves will do that for you. Dogs are loyal slaves. Cats are free citizens. My cat comes when he's called, tiny brain and all. Not because he thinks it's his duty, but because he likes me. Posted by: Justthisguy on December 5, 2004 05:38 AM"when the need arises - and it does - you must be able to shoot your own dog. don't farm it out - that doesn't make it nicer, it makes it worse." Robert Heinlein. i've had to send 3 old german shepards to valhalla and this quote has always helped me. after the dirty deed is done, you have to get shit faced and elevate your old friend to sainthood. Posted by: billy pilgrim on December 5, 2004 10:47 AMI had one get old on me, and at the time we were livin' in a place that required climbing stairs. I carried that bastid up and down 'em I don't know how many times. My family had a cat named Mittens. She showed up the day after Thanksgiving and looked skin and bones. We gave her left-over turkey and took her in. She came to live with us before I was born so that cat was always there. She treated us like her children to tell the truth. She would come in our rooms at night to check up on us and take turns sleeping in each of our beds. She also smacked the crap out of us when we were pissing her off. Then one day we find out she has skin cancer. I won't go into the details because it shames me to say that it could have been prevented had we gone sooner. She was 18 years old and we made a tough decision of putting her to sleep. That was a terrible day. Posted by: Chris on December 5, 2004 06:15 PMI had cats and dogs (yes and they were playing together all the time), I still got a dog and recently I lost my cat. Pets love you and it's always so hard when you lose them. Posted by: Max on April 23, 2005 07:33 PMPost a comment
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