My Dog
Aug 18th 2008
Claudia DainWhen Goddesses Fall To Earth
My dog died last Friday.
It came as a complete shock. He was fine. And then he was dead. He died in his sleep, at his favorite spot at the top of the stairs, staring down protectively at the front 
door, his front paw hanging off the top step.
I came out of my bedroom, stepped over his gigantic, 120 pound body, and walked down the stairs, calling him as I went, telling him it was time to go outside. He didn’t respond. I snapped my fingers and called his name again. Nothing. I felt my heart go cold. I walked back up the stairs and stared hard at him.
He wasn’t breathing. And just like that, the house felt dead. Cold. Lifeless.
Conan was a wonderful, amazing, loving dog. He was the best dog I ever had; he wouldn’t eat his dinner until I’d sung to him. If anyone else fed him, he’d nibble a bite and then wander off until I sang him to supper. His favorite game was “catching” the water from the hose. His favorite greeting was to nip the hem of my sleeve, brown eyes shining up at me.
I wandered through the house all weekend and the rooms felt so empty. I keep looking for him and he isn’t there.
It’s always like that, isn’t it? This isn’t the first dog I’ve lost.
Before Conan there was Aslan, our Newfoundland. He was the smartest dog I ever had. He should have been placed with an Advanced Family, someone who could match his intellect, but, poor boy, he got stuck with a Regular Family who could barely keep pace with him. This was a dog who could foil our invisible fence. No kidding. He really could. He knew where it was plugged in in the garage and would pull the plug, disabling the system. Really. Or he’d lay next to the wire and wait for 
the warning buzzer to run down the battery and then saunter over the line. He was Houdini with a lot more hair.
Aslan was the dog my kids grew up with, the dog who could hold a soccer ball in his mouth and run off with it. The dog who would chase my youngest, knock him down and hold him down on the grass with a paw to the small of his back so he could chew the rubber on the bottom of his shoe. A muffled voice from the dirt would say, “No, Aslan. No!” Aslan ignored him and kept chewing. That son spent half his life in the dirt with Aslan, as you can see from this photo. They were litter mates.
Aslan died ten years ago.
Before Aslan there was Shirley, our Belgian Shepherd. She was the dog who greeted each of my newborn children as they came home from the hospital. Shirley always knew I was pregnant before I did; she’d stick by my side until I left for the delivery room, following me from the refrigerator to the pantry to the kitchen table. She slept right next to my bed at night, and never even whined when I’d step on her by accident on all those millions of trips to the bathroom.
Shirley was the dog who taught my children how to treat a pet. She was patient and loving, very protective, welcoming these squawling newts into the pack, letting them pull her ears and climb into her bed. Shirley would run with the kids and their friends through the foothills of California, herding them into a bunch, all the parents at ease because Shirley was with them. One time a little girl fell and started crying and Shirley walked her back to her parents. She didn’t leave that little girl until the parents thanked her, then she raced back across the field to the other kids who might need her, herding, herding. The poor kids had no idea they were being kept in a tight circle, like little lambs.
Shirley was the dog who made us a family, even before DH and I had kids. Once we had kids…well, this photo says it all.
A man, his dog, and his boy.
Shirley has been gone for twenty years.
Saturday was my wedding anniversary. A sad day because Conan is so suddenly and permanently gone. But my husband and I were talking about the great dogs we’ve had, about one for every ten years of marriage. We’ve had dogs and cats from the very start, from our very first newlywed apartment to our empty nest house. We can’t imagine our lives without our pets.
But I can’t bear to think of another dog now. I still miss Conan. I don’t want to fill his space in my heart or in my home. Not just yet. Maybe never. Because I don’t want another dog. I want Conan.
So share your stories of animals loved and lost. Let’s laugh and cry together because I don’t want to cry alone anymore.
100 Comments »
100 Responses to “My Dog”
evlqn on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:15 am #
Oh Claudia I am so sorry. I have had so pets I loved and lost and it hurts damn it!
The first dog that I really loved was Taffy, a cocker and water spaniel. Taffy loved ice cream and cheese burgers and my dad would take her to A&W once a week for her fix. She adopted a black kitten Devil who had been abandoned by it’s mother and Taffy weened her with the other puppies. Devil never did figure out she was a cat, she always figured she was a tree climbing dog. She and Taffy where inseparable for over ten years. Taffy developed a tumor and had to be sent to the rainbow bridge and my dad never stopped grieving for her.
Then when my son Ian was about 4 months old my sister brought home this little white tribble and convinced me to let her stay. We named her Aimee and a bout a week after she came to us she started to GROW. I finally asked what breed she was, Standard Poodle and Malamute.
evlqn on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:29 am #
Aimee fell in love with Ian and she was always trying to get in his lap for a cuddle, however she weighed 60 pounds to his 25. We had a picture of the two of them sitting on the floor with Aimee across his lap and all you could see was the top of his little blond head. She would go out in the snow and lay down and you couldn’t find her unless she raised her head and you could see her eyes. We lived in town and she could not and would not be contained. She would break any chain we put on her and take off down the road. We found a home for her in the country so she could run to her hearts content.
The biggest hole in our hearts is the one Tanner left last November. I’ve talked about Tanner before, he was the most wonderful animal we ever had. Tanner was Chow,Retriever, German Shepard, Rottweiler and Wolf. He took care of our home and everyone in it. We have a daycare in our home and we never had to worry about any one’s safety with Tanner in charge.
evlqn on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:43 am #
We never locked our doors even when we were not home. Tanner loved the color red and he would go through the hampers to find red articles of clothing.
One Halloween I made Tanner a Red Dragon costume and he hated taking it off.
He would face down anyone, including a friend who is a member of our SWAT team, but he was terrified of kittens.
Tanner hated Fridays because the daycare kids would leave for the weekend and he felt that we were letting part of his pack go away.
He would sneak out the back gate whenever he could and take a walk around the neighborhood before he would come home and lay down on the front porch.
Tanner is in a metal canister up by George our gargoyle now but every now and then we can hear him walking down the hall and feel him come into the room with us. One of our little guys in the daycare keeps telling us that Tanner is in the back yard sleeping. Who knows maybe he is right.
Shashi on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:04 am #
Oh wow, after both of these stories, I am so close to tears!! What wonderful creatures walk the earth with us. I really do have a soft spot for dogs – their loyalty, companionship, protectiveness, quirks, and never-ending love. I’ve only owned one dog in my life, but we had to give him to an aunty, as he too loved to explore and our home just wasn’t big enough. He was a cross between a sausage dog Daschund and a Staffy. Just picture a sausage dog, except longer, and really really fat, with a big head and short stocky legs
He was so loveable, and very intelligent. He must be very old in dog years by now, but I’m just glad he’s got to live out the last years of his life in the country getting pampered, cuddled and fed far, far too much food.
Shashi on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:05 am #
Thank you to both of you ladies for your amazing animal stories. I loved the photos you included Claudia, especially the last one with your family. And I’m sure Conan is still watching over you and your family, just from a spot a bit higher than the top of the stairs this time.
And evlqn – I loved your story about the kids saying that Tanner is in the backyard sleeping – wow!!
PJ on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:46 am #
Claudia, I’m sitting here crying for you and with you. I am so very sorry to hear of Conan’s death. You’ve lost a member of your family and I know your heart is heavy with grief. I’m sending you love and hugs and I hope that sharing your love of Conan with us will bring you some comfort today.
I grew up with pets but my dh did not so it took me awhile to convince him we needed a dog to complete our family. Once I had I wasted no time in bringing Bandit into our lives. He was a mix of yellow lab and travelin’ man and was six weeks old when we met. I answered an ad in the paper on New Year’s Day and walked into the advertiser’s home to find myself surrounded by a huge litter of puppies. They bounced and rolled and crawled all over me vying for my attention – all of them but one. Their owner took them into the kitchen to eat and only then, when all the competition had vacated the premises, did the little guy who had been hiding under the couch come out.
con’t.
PJ on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:51 am #
Part 2: He walked straight to me, looked me in the eye then crawled into my lap, right on up to my shoulder and licked my ear. Then he snuggled up to me and fell asleep. Of course, my heart was lost and he went home with me to our small condo where the dh took one look at him and said, “OMG! Look at the size of those paws!” LOL! He grew to be 98 pounds of pure muscle with the disposition of a marshmallow. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. He was our best friend and blessed our lives for 14 years. He died 9 years ago and I miss him still. On the day he died, kids from all over the neighborhood came to our house to spend time with him and say good-bye. He was terrified of bugs but saved me from a snake. He loved playing in the hose but wouldn’t put his paw into the lake. He was a goofy, lovable, wonderful dog. He was one of a kind.
Judy F on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:13 am #
OH Claudia I am so sorry for your loss.
Pets have save my sanity on many of days.
My first pet was Tiger he was a stray that was only going to stay two weeks. he died 15 yrs later. My mom always said that cat lived so long cause we carried him everywhere.
We had several dogs over the years, Princess, casey and Lucky. Each was loved and special. Lucky I think kept my dad active.
My first pet on my own was my cat Dusty, she was my baby. She has been gone three years now and i miss her every day. If I was sick she sat with me. She loved sitting on my lap while I was on the computer.
LisaK on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:13 am #
Claudia, I’m so sorry to hear that story, I’m sobbing right now!
We got three bunnies five years ago, they were siblings yet so different, you could see that even when they were only two months old. Hoppel was my bunny, my girl, it was all black and very thin with looong ears and goggle-eyes and it was actually a little ugly, but I so loved it. It was the one that was always healthy, that never had anything, okay, it was very nervous and kept tearing out its hair, it was a little crazy but it was my baby (that’s what I called it, “Babychen”, the minimisation). And then, one day three years ago, in the middle of the summer holidays, I went out into the bunnies’ stable and Hoppel lay there, just lay there, and looked into the distance as if it already knew what would happen. We took it to the vet immediately who gave her an injection and said that her chances were good and we drove home and I sat on the balcony and prayed that it may live. And on the next day I got a phonecall
cont.
LisaK on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:23 am #
at nine o’clock in the morning and the vet told me that Hoppel had died in the night. I was completely devastated and only said “It’s okay.” although it of course wasn’t okay and I didn’t know what else to say. We picked it up and buried it in the garden and made a cross for its grave. I could only cry, I cried the whole day and I couldn’t calm and wouldn’t eat or do anything other than weep. And when I was in the stable the following weeks and I saw the two remaining ones crouching together I always thought I would hear Hoppel making noise from inside the house.
Then we had Räuber, he was my mum’s and he was a real Easter bunny, like you would paint them, all shades of brown with white paws and stains on its throat and and one on its forehead shaped like a “1″. He has always been sickly but wouldn’t walk out of the sun even after he’d had a sunstroke, he couldn’t see properly anymore, he couldn’t hear properly anymore and he couldn’t smell properly anymore but nevertheless he
cont.
LisaK on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:32 am #
was the sweetest of bunnies. Then he had a malposition of his teeth and the vet thought she had brought it in order but obviously she hadn’t because one day Räuberchen stopped eating. We took him to the vet again, he got injections and pills and we fed him baby food and he was so sweet licking it out of the spoon I gave him. And then the next day he started to seize and wouldn’t stop. I began to cry, I was completely hysteric and ran out of the house to go to school and when I was in the train my mum called me and said that Räuber had died. I was so done I had to get an attest at school so that I could go home. It was horrible. The sweet little thing, dead. And what was most horrible were the reactions of some people: “What’s the problem, it was only a bunny!?”. I could have killed them.
Now what lasts us is Veili, my sister’s baby who looks like Räuber but is black instead of brown and veeery fat yet cute. She’s a strong one who can manage well alone (even though I think she,
cont.
LisaK on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:38 am #
too, notices that her siblings are gone from time to time). We took her with us to my grandmother’s birthday (who lives six hours away from here, imagine a bunny in a car for six hours) where she could sit in the old stable of my cousin’s guinea pig and didn’t care, and she will move with us in two weeks into a new flat where she will have a new stable on the terrace and I think she’s looking forward to it. Call me stupid but I believe she understands it. Really. She’s our family bunny now and we all love her from the bottom of our hearts and I hope she will live at least another five years. It would be like her.
PJ on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:40 am #
Smokey joined our family in 1996. We had been living in a new state for less than six months, Bandit had turned 11 and slowed down a lot and the dh was struggling to recover from a debilitating stroke. Smokey was found by a highway when she was about 8 weeks old – dehydrated, half starved and covered with ticks. She was less than 24 hours from being euthanized on the day that my dh, out of the blue, said he wanted to visit the county animal shelter. It was meant to be. She’s incredibly smart and more attuned to her humans and canine sibs than any dog I’ve known. I firmly believe she’s the reason that Bandit lived another three years and a big part of the reason that my dh lived another five. She’s 12 years old now, struggling with arthritis and I know my time with her is limited. I’m determined to enjoy every day we have.
Velvet adopted us in 1999, six months after Bandit died. We called her our circus dog. I swear she was born with springs in her legs. con’t.
jessie on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:50 am #
Claudia, I’m so sorry for your loss. For everyone else’s, too.
My family had a dog that died when I was 5, but I don’t remember her that well. My first dog that I loved we got 6 months after the first one died. Her name was Sweetie because she had the sweetest disposition. She was a west highland terrier. She was really my mom’s dog, but my dad and I loved her too. She didn’t really do anything unique to her or out of the ordinary (except run around like a psycho after her bath); she mostly acted like a regular dog. But she was just so sweet, and she loved us so much.
My mom was absolutely devastated when she died two years ago. She got canine dementia, which was the hardest thing to deal with. She would get confused and stand with her nose pressed in a corner for long periods of time. I had a hard time handling it. She took a turn for the worse on my mom’s birthday, and we had to put her to sleep that day. I was at school when my mom called and told me what we…
PJ on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:52 am #
Velvet was a small black lab and her fur did in fact feel just like velvet. She was such a sweetie and a bundle of non-stop energy. At her five year old annual check-up the vet felt a lump and tests showed she had lymphoma. She breezed through chemo, charming everyone at the specialty clinic and loving the two hour round trip we made weekly for several months. Every time we arrived for her appt. she would bound into the clinic, put her front paws on the registration desk and kiss whoever happened to be working there. Even knowing what was coming, she was still delighted to be there and see everyone. She was cancer-free for 18 more wonderful months but then the cancer came back. Halfway through the second round of chemo she took a sudden turn for the worse and died in less than a week. She was six years old and I was devastated. Now I can look back and remember that she lived every day to the fullest, brought so much joy to so many lives and be grateful for our time together.
jessie on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:54 am #
were going to have to do. I left my job and rushed home, missing a class, to say goodbye. Then I had to rush back to school because I couldn’t miss my last class of the day. I almost ran into a car because I was crying so hard and changing lanes at the same time.
We got a new dog, another westie, about 8 months later. Missy is so not like Sweetie at all–she’s spastic and she loves us, but she’s not very affectionate. She has the most personality of any dog I’ve ever seen. I love her so much. We also have a shih tzu that we inherited when my grandma died, just a few weeks after we got Missy. Sophie is not as lovable as Missy, but she tries hard.
Claudia, thank you for giving us a chance to share our stories, even though I’m sad as all get out right now.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:28 am #
Thank you. Thank you for your condolences and your stories. Hearing about all the love matches that have been made between people and pets makes my heart sing. It is a gift to love a pet and be loved in return. I want to focus on that.
That, and all the cute stories! A dog that needs her ice cream fix. Now that’s a smart dog! And Tanner sounds like a dream dog, the kind they make movies about.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:31 am #
PJ, Bandit sounds wonderful! Conan loved to play in the water from the hose, but hated to get bathed with the same hose. Huh? Crazy dog. It’s the same water!
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:33 am #
LisaK, that’s it exactly. I keep thinking I see Conan. I listen for the sounds of him, and am struck anew with grief when I hear all that Quiet. And then I cry.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:39 am #
Jessie, it’s so true, isn’t it? Dogs can be the same breed and not be alike at all. Each dog, cat, or bunny is so unique, completely possessed of their own personality.
There will never be another Conan. He was the sweetest tempered German Shepherd the vet had ever seen. He was just a big sweetie. The girls who worked the kennel would cringe when they’d see him come in, sure they were in for a tough time with an aggressive dog, but by the time we picked him up a week later after whatever trip we were on, they’d be crawling all over him, snuggling him, just raving about what an adorable dog he was.
He sure was.
Margaret on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:46 am #
Oh Claudia. I’m so sorry about Conan. Isn’t it great that he was lying at the top of the stairs. Protecting you to the end. Many a time, when I’ve lost a dog, I will see them out of the corner of my eye once in awhile. Especially in the first couple of months.
My theory is that they are waiting for me to let them go and for my grieving to ease. When it does, I don’t see them anymore.
I’ve had so many dogs in my long life. Jack, a true Heinz57 country dog, who patiently played black panther to my Sheena, Queen of the Jungle to Bella the Wonder Dog who is my current companion. Each one left their mark on my life and I am grateful to them all. After King, my Australian Shephard, wormed out of a fenced yard, got hit by a car & died, I wasn’t going to have another dog. He broke my heart. Since then, I’ve had Cotton, Raven, Sara and, now, Bella. Such different dogs and so loved. Each with their own story.
Kari on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:00 am #
Claudia, I am sorry. I am weeping. Flat out sobbing in my little office at the end of my empty house. My son is at his first day of kindergarten. I thought I would be ok but you story opened up the floodgates that I didn’t know I needed opened. I was nervous on the car ride there, a bit “normal” as we were waiting for the teacher to open the door and totaly OK when I had to leave. But my house is so quite. sigh only 6 more hours to go.
The only dog I remember having growing up was Chessie, our Chesapeake Bay Retriever. I don’t think I was old enough to appreciate what she was but I remember her always being our playmate. She died while we were on vacation in Florida. I cried but not nearly as hard or as long as my sister. Those two were buddies.
I’m am truly sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your memories with us.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:07 am #
Margaret, I know you’re right. It would be a shame to let a broken heart keep you from having another Love Fest with another dog. I just can’t imagine it at the moment. Conan was the *best* dog I’ve ever had. DH thinks I’ll get to the point in about a month where the hunger to love a dog will overwhelm me and we’ll get another. He may be right.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:09 am #
Oh, Kari! This is a such a big day in your life as a mom! I think you needed to cry, just a little, to mark the moment. I hope you both have a good day on the first day of kindergarten. *g*
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:27 am #
Claudia, I am so terribly sorry for your loss. What a fabulous dog and you have to be comforted that Conan was doing what he loved – guarding his family – when he was called home. I am a firm believer that animals go to heaven far more often than people. A vet I worked with told me about having to go to a home to euthanize a very old dog. The dog had come into the marriage as the husband’s long time pet. He was there when their first child was born and the little boy grew up with the dog. The little boy was five when they had to put the dog to sleep. They tried to explain it to him, but he knew everyone was sad – even the vet. They were standing in the yard after burying their dog and the little boy said “I know why Big Boy died.” They were stunned but they let him talk. He said “In church they said we’re supposed to learn how to love one another and how to be good. I think dogs learn that a lot quicker than we do. That’s why they don’t live so long. When you learn what you’re s’pose
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:35 am #
(con) to you get to go home.” Truer words were never spoken.
We lost our first dog, Fritz, to extreme old age. He was ten when we got him and 18 when he passed away. I was 16 and I cried like a baby. We got a King Charles spaniel when we lived in England. The first time I saw my father cry was when Mischief died. My father was the one who taught me that if you have to have a pet put to sleep that you go with them and you don’t leave them. He said it was part of the contract you made with the pet when you took it into your home.
My black lab / bloodhound mix, Otis, was 16 when I had to make that awful decision. He’d spent the day wearing my students out playing Frisbee. That night he collapsed and when I got him to the animal ER where I worked they said he was in kidney failure. The vet was a friend and offered to get him into the kidney transplant program at Auburn. I told him no because I knew I wouldn’t be doing it for Otis, but for me. I held Otis in my arms and even after the
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:44 am #
first shot put him under as long as I talked his tail wagged. His tail was the last thing to stop and even the vet was in tears.
The dog my late dh got me before we married was Sasha – half doberman/half German shepherd. She lived for three years after Roger died. She was almost 18. She went outside to lie under her favorite shade tree and when I went to call her inside I knew she was gone. She was the last thing I had of Roger. I wrapped her in the double wedding ring quilt Roger’s grandmother and I made and buried her under her tree. I still see her and feel her from time to time out of the corner of my eye.
The last dog I lost was Glory, my deaf Dane, to bone cancer two years ago. She went thru chemo and the loss of her leg with humor, courage and grace. She went in her sleep in bed with me, the Chihuahua and kitten she raised on Christmas Eve day. I woke up, put my hand on her and knew she was gone. I miss her every day.
My brothers carved her headstone. It says
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:48 am #
“Dragonheart’s Ancient Glory
November 3, 1997 – December 24, 2006
Know that no matter how deep my sleep
And not all the power of death
Can keep my spirit from being with you.
We’ll see you at the Bridge, Glory-girl”
I have really good brothers. And all of the pets I have owned have been terrific. Conan is still watching over you and yours, Claudia. And many, many years from now, he’ll be waiting for you. They always do.
elsiehogarth on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:53 am #
Claudia, I am so sorry for your loss. It is so sad to lose such a loving and loyal companion.
The last dog we had was mixed Blk.Lab/German Shepherd named Pepe…he reminded me of Pepe le Pew-he had a white stripe on his chest. We have always had dogs in my family but Pepe was my last dog because he just can’t be replaced.
Santa on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:53 am #
I had to wait until I stopped crying before I could write to you. I am so sorry for your loss. My sister-friend just lost her German Shepard Samantha. I cried so much I nearly took a train down to MD to be with her.
We have a white Boxer named Blizzard who has become such a part of our home that I can’t remember her not being here. I initially resisted getting a puppy but a friend of ours gave her to us shortly after my daughter’s godfather, my brother, passed away. Being a Boxer she wants nothing more than to please you, so she trained with remarkable ease. She adores us as much as we do her. When I was away a couple of weeks ago my DH said she followed him around and did a head count each time. She knew one of us was missing. She is ecstatic when we come home but if the little people, my kids, aren’t with us she sighs and lays down. At 2:50 every day she waits by the front door for the school bus. She’s going to be miserable when they go back to school
cail on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:06 am #
whoa, you guys got my waterworks going. i’m so sorry for your losses. my cat passed away nearly 22 years ago. we never got another mammal in my family (although the dearest and I are going to get a kitty soon, I hope), but I’ve lived through the loss of multiple birds etc. My parakeets all died at the vets while we were out of town. that’s a hard lesson to learn, that birds catch diseases when they mingle with other birds.
the only dog i sort of had growing up was my little brother. i made him get on all fours, and do tricks. he was very obedient and is still one of my best friends. naturally, he’s not into the idea of being a dog anymore but it was fun when he was little. Now he towers over me, and has a fancy-pants job in NYC.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:10 am #
These stories have lifted my heart! How many wonderful dogs in the world! It really gives me hope.
Louisa, that is so sweet about the gravestone for Glory. We buried Conan in the backyard, in the deep woods, in the blanket he sat on when riding in the car (how that dog loved his road trips–I never knew a dog so happy to climb aboard and go for a long outing).
Santa, I know what you mean about dogs doing the head count. DH said that when I was in SF for the RWA conference, Conan was not a happy boy. He barely ate since I wasn’t there to sing to him and he got so he barely moved, just sat under the dining room windows, staring down the driveway.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:12 am #
Cail, that is so funny that you turned your brother into your pet dog! I’ll bet he had fun pretending, too. After all, now he’s Mr. Fancy Pants and probably can’t pretend to be a puppy much anymore. *G*
Kathy/Cookie on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:22 am #
Claudia, my heart grieves for your loss. When I first saw the picture of Conan, I smiled but then read on in dismay.
But to know he passed on gently and ever watchful must ease your burden somewhat.
Reading on and learning about your beloved furry family members made me tear up in support of you.
I too have had the special bond that only a pet can give you. Buster, not my first but my most memorable dog, was a wolf/golden lab mix. He thought he was a lap dog. I picked him out when I was 12 and he was my guardian until the end. He would bring me rabbit heads and constantly bother procupines, but was patient when I pulled the quills out and would lick me a thank you.
Bisquit, who started off as my sister’s boyfriend’s pet, but ended up with us in the country where he could roam. Saved me from an evil brother burying me in a snowbank by biting him on the bum! best friend a teenage girl could have!
Karen Rose on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:30 am #
Oh, Claudia, I am crying with you. I am so sorry about Conan. You’ve talked so much about him over the last year that I feel I’ve met him.
I still miss Byron, Lord Byron, more affectionately known as Mr. Stools. Byron was DH’s and my first Bearded Collie. We bought him when we were only married 6 weeks. We were eating hamburger helper with every meal, but Byron ate only the best dog food. We still laugh about that.
He wasn’t particularly smart, but he could catch a frisbee even with all that hair in his eyes. And he was so sweet. I still remember all those nights when DH had cancer. I had a brand new baby and was so terrified, I’d get up and find a quiet corner to cry where no one could hear me. Byron would come and put his hairy head in my lap and just be with me.
That’s how he died, too. He was old and sick and the vet said it was past time. But I couldn’t leave him until it was done. He put his head in my lap and went to sleep. That was 8 years ago.
Kathy/Cookie on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:31 am #
Sweetums my grey fur baby is flaked on the floor beside me while I try to edit survivor footage. Yes, i’m still working on it…I took a break while my hand healed.
darn silly kitty, pushed out the screen in the livingroom window that I had spent an hr on Friday replacing. I turned around this morning to see her body in the window frame and her head stuck outside watching the birds.
She’s exhausted from all the running after bugs that flew in through the big hole now.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:32 am #
Kathy/Cookie, your story about Bisquit reminds me of my dog Betsy. She was *the* dog of my childhood. She lived for 18 years. Can you imagine? She had to be put down when I was in my senior year of college. I sobbed for hours. She was a mutt, mostly poodle and cocker, and she was smart and sweet and lovable.
Once during my teen years my mom and I were standing in the kitchen yelling at each other. Suddenly my mom pointed down and there was Betsy, standing against my mother’s legs and pushing her back, then standing against my legs and pushing me back. !!! She was breaking up the fight. My mom and I looked at Betsy, looked at each other, and started laughing. Fight over.
Betsy did it. She looked up at us as we were laughing, giving us the ‘about time, you two’ look. She was my best friend. I told her every thought in my head, and cried countless tears into her fur.
Karen Rose on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:32 am #
Now I have Loki, he is my fifth Beardie. He looks much like Byron and sometimes I let myself call him Byron “by mistake.” He isn’t so smart either, but he is sweet.
Pets fill a house with toys, hair, and love. I’m so sorry about Conan. I’m going to go hug Loki now.
Buffie on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:33 am #
Oh Claudia, I’m so sorry. It is so difficult to lose a member of the family.
My love for dogs began at an early age. We always had dogs in the house. But my vivid childhood memories revolve around two of them.
First, there was Rusty. The little rust colored dachsund who was my pal. Rusty always slept curled up at the end of my bed. He would growl at my parents if they approached me while he was sitting or sleeping with me. Yep, at my parents! He followed me everywhere I went and I loved him dearly. After he was hit by car, my parents told me no more dogs. But when I saw a cute little puppy in the store window, my dad just couldn’t tell me now. So we walked into the house with George, our female doberman. We didn’t clip her tail or her ears, so as she grew tall and big her tail was a weapon and her ears flopped everywhere. She was the happiest dog I ever had. I remember one day mom & I had made cookies and they were on the table cooling.
Buffie on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:34 am #
PART 2
Mom & I were in the swimming pool playing and out walked George with TWO cookies in her mouth and looking at us like “well, what did you want me to do?” It was so funny and Mom & I laughed and laughed.
SheridanLA on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:44 am #
Claudia, big hugs go to you and your family.
I, too, have been blessed with some amazing companions over the years and it is always sad when they are gone – but I also still get smiles from remembering them and their antics and their love.
*hugs*
Freedom Writer on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:50 am #
Claudia, I am sorry for your loss. I too have waterworks going and my 5 year old Newfoundland, Belle, is antsy pantsing around next to me because of it. She is my 125 lap dog. My other newf, Thunder, is 9 and is the world champion at the down and stay. As a matter of fact, after 8:30 pm you can’t get him up even to go outside. He was 165 at his top weight, but he has lost muscle mass not that he is elderly. I fear that we will soon lose him. They are both wonderful dogs and their fur covers every inch of my home. The last dog I lost was Sheba. She was a Samoyed/Retriever mix. Her white fur made a nice contrast to the newfy black fur all over my house. She had stomach cancer and died just 10 days after the birth of my first granddaughter in 2005. We had her for 15 years. I wish you well, and know that some day you will again be ready to open your heart and home to another canine family member, but for now cherish your memories of your wonderful old friend.
Freedom Writer on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:51 am #
That would be 125 lb. lap dog. My vision is rather blurry right now.
Michelle B on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:52 am #
Claudia, I’m so sorry for your sudden loss. Dogs really are like family members so it hurts so much to lose one. Cassie, was our first family dog. We had been married 7 years, had two of our three children, and had lived through our first Christmas apart due to the military. My DH promised his two little girls a puppy when we joined him in the Philippines. Enter Cassie, a white miniature poodle who belonged to a DOD teacher rotating back to the states. Cassie was 18 months old (same age as youngest daughter), was house trained, knew tricks, and loved the girls from hello. She was smart, loving, and extremly patient with all the dress ups, put into doll strollers, doll high chairs, and wagons. She played soccer moving the ball with her chest and hunted Easter eggs right along w/ the kids. She was 11 when we had to put her to sleep. Taking youngest daughter to college over weekend, we were trading memories of Cassie who has been gone 7 years.
Michelle B on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:59 am #
I didn’t want to replace Cassie, puppies are so much work and usually all mine. Then my youngest son, who wanted another dog so bad, asked me how many dogs did I have growing up on the farm. Then it hit me, I had grown up with so many dogs and great memories, how could I deny that to my child? Youngest son never really had bonded with Cassie, they just sort of gave each other their space. Enter George, a black minature poodle with so much personality. George and Son are very close and George is definitely a member of our family.
Kim on 18 Aug 2008 at 10:01 am #
(((Claudia))) I am so very sorry you’ve lost Conan. Big hugs to you. Take your time to mourn him and one day you’ll know when you’re ready to bring home the next member of your family.
My house is over run with spoiled fur ones and I can’t imagine it any other way. They all follow Mom whereever she is. Right now, Ginger is laying on my feet and Precious is on the blanket I keep for her in my office. Sheriff and Max are sprawled on various bookshelves napping. I love each and everyone of them so much it makes my heart ache to think of losing them. When I was at conference I would call home and talk to them, tell them to ask Daddy for a treat. My dh said Max (our little cat) would walk from door to door crying and missing me.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 10:22 am #
Freedom, another Newfie lover! I stand amazed that your Newfs live such long lives. Ours lived until 10, which I thought was the upper side of average. You have clearly given them a happy home in which to thrive.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 10:24 am #
Oh, Michelle, I know you did the right thing by your son. He *needed* George.
Leah Braemel on 18 Aug 2008 at 10:41 am #
I’m so sorry, Claudia! We lost our dog, Storm, three years ago, and I still miss her terribly.
You’ve had amazing dogs, but that also says you’ve been an amazing owner. Hopefully you’ll find room for another dog in your house, but give yourself time to grieve for Conan first. They really are members of our family, aren’t they?
evlqn on 18 Aug 2008 at 11:00 am #
Tanner liked to do trades, he would give you one of his toys and take something of yours. One morning we were having our coffee and Tanner gave me his favorite sqeakie toy and took my shoe, I took it back. He brought me another toy and took my shoe, I took it back. He brought me a third toy and took my shoe, I took it back. He looked up at me like I wasn’t quite smart enough to breath on my own, took his toys and left the room.
For her birthday our mom gave my sister a memory pillow with family pictures on it, she included a picture of Tanner and the grandsons at Tanners’s first Christmas. She said it was because Tanner was family too.
Margaret on 18 Aug 2008 at 11:23 am #
While I was washing dishes, I got to thinking about Conan and all the others mentioned so far today. I’ve had cats and dogs all my adult life. I hope there is a warm fuzzy pressed against me when I breath my last.
I think one of the things that bonds us humans so closely to dogs is that they tend to love us unconditionally. No matter if we’re rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, good or bad. A dog will even love the one who kicks them. How can we resist being loved like that? Humans certainly aren’t capable of it no matter how much we might want to.
My hat’s off to all the Conan, Jacks, Tanners, Sashas, et al. You loved and were loved. Here’s hoping you are waiting patiently to welcome us “home” again someday.
dbrown3400 on 18 Aug 2008 at 11:43 am #
Claudia, you have my condolences. Conan will always be in your mind and heart as a beloved family member.
We’ve only had two family pets, Spritz, a Miniature Schnauzer, and Quincy, a Silver Tabby. They grew up together and had a friendly rivalry. Spritz slept by my feet and Quincy slept on my chest. I, of course, had no room to sleep at all. Although they did tricks for Pete, they were very much my pets.
Both were indoor animals and only ventured as far as our deck. We moved to a new house with no patio or deck and didn’t let our pets out at all until one day my ex’s son came to visit. Spritz came outside and, before we could stop her, ran in front of a car. I’ll never forget carrying her lifeless body in from the street and taking her to the vet’s for burial. Only a few months later Quincy was diagnosed with feline leukemia and I held her while the vet put her to sleep. We couldn’t bring ourselves to have family pets after that.
Kay on 18 Aug 2008 at 11:46 am #
Oh Claudia, I’m so sorry about your loss. Crying too much now to post anything else or read the other comments.
LauraR on 18 Aug 2008 at 12:20 pm #
Claudia, I too am so sorry for your loss. This has been one of the most difficult blogs to read. I have to keep stopping to blow my nose and wipe away the tears. Even so it was lovely to read about your wonder dogs and everyone else’s furry family members. Give yourself time – you’ll know when you are ready to add another.
LauraR on 18 Aug 2008 at 12:21 pm #
I was going to correct the ‘wonder dogs’ to ‘wonderful dogs’ but maybe not now that I think of it. Wonder dogs feels right.
Lisa H on 18 Aug 2008 at 12:28 pm #
There is no way I can read another post today. I am so sorry for all of you who have lost your furry family members. My condolences, Claudia. Animals are so loving and forgiving. They are extraordinary in many ways.
Ellen on 18 Aug 2008 at 12:45 pm #
This is the first time I cried over a posting. My thoughts will be with you for some time, Claudia. Like you, there has always been a beloved pet in my life. In almost 50 years, I’ve said good bye to five of them.
People would try to comfort me by saying, “you should get another.” They just did not understand. Every time I said good bye, I swore there would never be another pet in my life.
I’m sure Phil, the hairball at my feet right now is very happy I can’t keep my promises.
Ellen on 18 Aug 2008 at 12:46 pm #
My sister’s new “Newfi” was just born last week. She will be picking him up in early october.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 1:10 pm #
DBrown, your sleeping with pets story sparked an old memory, a story my parents used to tell me.
My dad was a paraplegic, for those of you who don’t know, and the 3 pets he and my mom had before I was born used to sleep snuggled around him (because he grumbled about the pets the most–which is how it always works out). At least once a month, my mom would wake up to hear my dad thrashing around in bed. The small dog would sleep on his legs, the cat on his throat, and the big collie would sleep under the bed directly under him. So here’s Dad, suffocating, unable to turn over, and then the collie would try to move and get stuck and throw my dad around on the mattress while he’s heaving on the hardwood floor underneath him.
Oh, man. My parents told me that story so many times, laughing uncontrollably every time. Pets were their children long before they had me.
Lori on 18 Aug 2008 at 1:14 pm #
Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. Pets are such members of our families, aren’t they? The first dog I lost was Ginger. She slept next to my crib. I’m the one who took her on walks every day. And took her on the walk where she was attacked by a neighborhood dog who was unchained in the yard. At 17, she had a heart attack in my arms waiting to get stitches in the vet’s office. I’ve always felt responsible, even though intellectually I know it wasn’t my fault.
Now that I’m an adult, we’ve had dogs and cats and rats and fish, and it never does get easier, losing a beloved member of your family. In fact, I’m convinced it just gets harder – having to explain it to kids, and be there for them thrown into the mix.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 1:15 pm #
Oh, Ellen. I’m crying, too.
LauraR, I think wonder dogs is exactly right.
Kay and LisaH, I’m sorry! I needed a good old fashioned wake. A place to share my grief and my memories, to hear other warm memories of both grief and joy. I’m hoping that by the end of today I’ll feel better and the house won’t feel so empty.
Every little thing I do reminds me of Conan. I feel very alone, very deserted.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 1:19 pm #
I almost forgot to post the end of the collie story! Anyway, the collie would get stuck trying to turn over under the bed, and so my dad would have to get out of bed, reach under, try to grab the legs of a very panicky collie to pull him out and free him from his mattress prison. LOL Then my dad would crawl back into bed, sweating and exhausted, and my mom would say something like, “I don’t know why you can’t sleep quietly with those sweet, innocent animals.” And then my dad would sputter and my mom would roar with laughter.
That collie, Scout, was the wedding gift my dad gave to my mom.
Gannon on 18 Aug 2008 at 2:23 pm #
Claudia, my heart is breaking for you and the loss of your precious Conan. It’s so hard to imagine my life without pets. Like K-Rose said, they fill our lives with toys, hair and love. In the case of my two cats and two dogs, it’s lots of hair.
That’s what my Dyson vacuum is for.
All of my pets are mama’s boys–yes, they are all males–and I wouldn’t have it any other way!
catslady on 18 Aug 2008 at 2:30 pm #
Your not crying alone. Actually I’m sobbing. I’m so very sorry for your loss. I can’t even bring myself to read any of the other posts. I’ve lost 2 dogs and my oldest cat and I don’t think you ever get over it. Although I have 6 more cats
we’ve elected not to replace our last dog. She really was perfect 
We are enjoying though our newly married daughter’s puppy!
Karen Hawkins on 18 Aug 2008 at 2:59 pm #
Oh, Claudia, I am so sorry for your loss. I’m wiping the tears from my eyes as I write this — I love my dogs and know how much I’d miss them, so my heart is with you.
But congrats on having had such wonderful, loving animals as a part of your life. It just shows what a lovely family you have.
Still, all sadness aside, congrats on your anniversary. From the picture you posted here, I can tell it’s been a quality journey the whole way.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:05 pm #
Karen, LOL, yes, it’s been a good ride. I wouldn’t and couldn’t have lived with any other man. The fact that he rushed home from work 4 hours early when I told him about Conan, the fact that he buried Conan in our backyard, the fact that he couldn’t go back to work after the burial because his heart was broken as deeply as mine tells the whole tale of the great guy I married.
Suzanne Enoch on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:16 pm #
Oh, Claudia, I’m so sorry! It doesn’t help much, but at least Conan didn’t have a long illness or suffer first. I think there’s a reason dog and God use the same letters — they both give us so much comfort and ask for so little in return.
Freshechelle on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:20 pm #
Claudia, my deepest sympathies to you and your family. Sounds like you were blessed to have Conan as part of the family and no pet can ever replace him. Isn’t a amazing how the love of a pet can make any bad day good?
I can’t think of a good pet story to cheer you up so I’ll share something funny that happened yesterday. My family and I went to Aunt Joan’s for dinner in her new home. We learned she now buys bottled water for the dog to drink because the tap water in this new town turns his white beard brown. The same tap water she had no problem serving us.
Nicole Jordan on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:40 pm #
Oh, Claudia, I’m so sorry about your precious pooch. I know how badly that hurts. I sure hope you can eventually fill that huge hole in your heart.
Kay on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:46 pm #
Oh Claudia. I’m crying again after reading all of the beautiful posts. Dogs and cats touch our lives in amazing ways.
My dear Sheltie, Angus, died last November, from complications of an operation. He basically bled to death—–at a University Vet Hospital. Sometimes, even the best care in the world can’t cheat death.
Your post today brought back all of those feelings of loss like it happened yesterday. It’s good to know others grieve for their dogs the way I did.
Take care of yourself and know all of us are thinking about you.
Julia London on 18 Aug 2008 at 3:50 pm #
Claudia, I am so sorry about your dog. I lost mine in February, and I still think about her every day. I know how much it hurts and how much you will miss him. You wrote a great tribute to your dogs. I am all teary-eyed now.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:11 pm #
Fresh, that made me laugh! Yes, give the dog the bottled water. We humans will make do with the scary chemical laden water. LOL
Thanks for a good laugh! I needed it.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:12 pm #
Suzie, you are so right. Dying in your sleep, having had a busy, happy day the day before, is surely the best death anyone could hope for. Not to be gross, but it gave us special comfort to see that he obviously never knew what hit him. He was in a very natural sleep pose, no sign of bodily distress. He just…fell asleep.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:14 pm #
Nicole, I know you must feel the same way about your horses! When you love an animal, you just flat out love them. They become a part of your life, the rhythm of your day.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:18 pm #
Julia, you’re exactly right and I hadn’t thought of it that way. This is a tribute to the dogs I’ve loved, who’ve loved me. They brought so much joy and love into my life, to be remembered is the least they deserve.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:20 pm #
Kay, I’m crying, too! It’s been a teary day, but I really think it’s helped me. Every tear washes the wound—-who said that? Anyway, it feels true. Painful, but true. Sharing the grief seems to lessen it, plus I love hearing about everyone’s pets! They are so endlessly entertaining, so cute, so strange, so wise.
Oooh, thought of a funny story about Aslan!
Ellen on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:49 pm #
You gals are the absolute best. Even in sadness, you all come forward to offer support, love and empathy.
Claudia, you should save this tribute to your dogs forever. For generations to come, your family will be moved by the love and devotion in your words.
evlqn on 18 Aug 2008 at 4:50 pm #
Claudia thinking about our beloved pets has brought back another memory of cat Devil with an identity crisis. Not only did she believe she was a dog in disguise she refused to be carried like other animals. The only way she would allow me to carry her was hanging from my arm like a poosum in a tree with her tail laying in the palm of my hand.
When she first came to us her name was Black Velvet, Mom renamed her Devil Cat because she would not tolerate anyone but me, Daddy and Taffy, her surrogate mother. Everyone else had better stay away from her.
You always knew when Devil or Taffy were in any kind of trouble because the other went crazy until they were let outside to go to the rescue. Pretty soon there they would be, coming up the street battle scarred but unbowed.
And then Daddy would take Taffy for ice cream.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:13 pm #
Eviqn, I will *never* forget your story about Taffy’s need for ice cream. That just charms me completely (being that I have a serious ice cream addiction myself).
Your story about Devil and Taffy reminds me of Shirley and Amy, our cat. Amy was our first pet as a married couple and she was SO fearful. Most people didn’t even know we had a cat! Anyway, Amy and Shirley were best friends; they used to curl up and sleep together on the end of the bed (which they weren’t allowed to do…sigh).
Anyway, Amy would engage some other cat in warfare, come flying over the wall into our backyard and there would be Shirley. Shirley would let Amy fly by with a nod, then tear into the other cat, who was NOT expecting to have to tangle with a 50 pound dog. The intruder cat would run screaming out of our yard and Amy would lick her toes in delight. She thought she was so tough! Shirley, our hairy psychologist, had given her such confidence!
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:14 pm #
Ellen, you’re the best. You make me cry.
Kay on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:41 pm #
how about some more pictures of your dogs on the Forum, and then we can all share pictures there of our special pets
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 5:50 pm #
If Kim can do it and Zeus agrees, that’s great with me.
Yasmin on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:07 pm #
i so sorry about your pets, Claudia. I lost 1 cock-a-tiel and 2 parakeets. I feel partly responsible for their deaths. I had bought those carpet powders that you vaccum to refresh your carpet. I used it. I was cleaning the kitchen when my chihuahua, petunia, starts sneezing and weezing in front of the bird’s cages. I went to have a look and saw that Panchito was dead already and panchita couldnt seem to breathe. I yelled to my mom she grab petunia and I grabbed the cages and put them outside the house. I pulled out Panchita and actual blew some air into her beak and she seemed to grab the air but after a few times she just died. I was crying and called in to work that I was going to be late. I didnt know that powder was the thing killing them at that point. I thought maybe it was the new food I had just put. I changed everything in the cockatiels cage and put them back inthe house. I leave for work all depressed. I had just pulled into to work which is about 5 min away from home…
Meg on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:10 pm #
Claudia, I am so sorry to hear about your dog. God only knows what I would do if I were to loose one of mine. The last dog that I lost I had to have put to sleep. His name was Dudley and he was a wonderful dog. I had noticed that he had started wheezing and decided to take him to a vet. Now Dudley was a yard dog and did not have many trips to the vet so why I wanted to take him now still confuses me. The doc did some blood work and said that Dudley had such a bad case of heartworms that it was causing him a lot of pain. The best thing was to do was to put him down. And that’s what happened. It tore me up so bad that I started hyperventilating; and I never do that. I still hate myself for having it done even though I try to rationalize it by telling myself that he was in a lot of pain. I pray that I NEVER have to do that again! Again, my sympathies.
Yasmin on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:23 pm #
…when my mom calls me telling me one of the cockatiels, princeza, fell off the perch. The other desk clerk was the one who had taken the call. she ran to the parking lot to tell me before I got off the car. I didnt say anything to my boss I just told her to tell him that I wasnt working today. i got home and Princeza was that same as the otherones they couldnt breathe. I took them to the vet but it was too late for Princeza. She had too much of the powder accumalated in her lungs. Principe receive some meds and to this day he is fine. the vaccum powder I used specifically said safe for pets. I didnt sent in an email to the company and never got an answer back. I buried my three birds in my aunts backyard on July 18th,2004. I always go on that date and take flowers to their grave. My aunt babysat my surviving cockatiel for 2 wks because the vet said to completely air out the entire house. Petunia was fine and her vet said she was okay because her body could processes thing better.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:37 pm #
My gosh, Yasmin, that’s horrible!! How traumatic! What a terrible thing to have had to endure. I’m so glad Petunia came through okay.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:38 pm #
Oh, Meg, that’s so sad about Dudley. Heartworms are a bad way to go, poor thing.
Meg on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:43 pm #
OK, I thought I was crying after reading Claudia’s blog and making my own post. Now, after going back and reading the other posts, my face is drenched!! At one time I had thought to stop reading everyone’s posts but I am glad I didn’t because I would have missed the laughter that was tucked in between the stories. As Dolly Parton said, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” I don’t know that I would say favorite, but it’s always good to get a laugh when you least expect it.
Margaret on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:51 pm #
Clauda, I get LOLDogs I Has a Hot Dog thru the RSS feed. I love some of the pictures and the captions. This one really warmed my heart today. I thought it might give you a chuckle and brighten your day a bit.
(((((((((((((((((((HUGS)))))))))))))))))))))))))))
http://ihasahotdog.com/2008/08/18/funny-dog-pictures-juz-want-to-finishz-thiz-chapter/
Margaret on 18 Aug 2008 at 6:57 pm #
Clauda, I tried to post a web page from LOLDogs for you. I thought it was appropriate for a writer and might give you a laugh on this sad day. However, Zeus decided I couldn’t put that URL here. He hates me, you know.
Anyway, I posted it on the Forum under Ask A Goddess. Enjoy.
Emmiebee on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:13 pm #
Oh Claudia, what a heartwrenching loss. Sorry I’m late to post, but I am just home from vacation today, and I had to check in with the Goddesses. Conan sounds like he was just a wonderful lug of a guy, and for his sake I am glad that he left this world peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by family, sweet dreams and love. The only pain is felt by those left behind missing him. My in-laws lost their beloved cat Hemmie this weekend as well when an undetected oral tumor ruptured, resulting in a terrible bout of bleeding and sudden distress. My MIL gave Hemmie the gift of euthanasia at the ER, but was in a state of shock all weekend. How deeply our pets affect our lives- they help anchor our day to day joys to our homes and family.
Some good pet news, though- today we welcome Jet Li, a 10 month old black cat, to our family! He was a stray brought to my hospital with some pretty severe burns on his neck, but he is healing slowly and steadily. The other four cats just sigh at this point
RachelG on 18 Aug 2008 at 7:57 pm #
Claudia,
I’m so sorry about Conan. He sounds like a wonderful dog.
RachelG
ArkansasCyndi on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:14 pm #
I am so sorry. It’s like a piece of your heart died. The hole, the emptiness inside is the most awful feeling. I know my time with Maggie (my border collier) is short. She’s 13 – doing great, but it’s just a matter of time. I dread it. But we’ve all been there. AND know that many of us are grieving with you, feeling what you feel. Hope you feel our love and care reaching out.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:22 pm #
I do, ACyndi, I am really feeling the love and today has helped me so much!
Meg, it’s so true, the laughter amid the tears is so cleansing and so freeing. I needed it.
It was nice to have some cute stories to tell DH when he came home from work instead of us just staring at each other and talking about how much we miss Conan. I told him *your* stories, the stories about the funny and crazy things your pets have done. We smiled through dinner, which we haven’t done in days.
Emmiebee, I’m so sorry to hear about Hemmie! So sudden! It feels worse when it’s sudden, I’m convinced. Send your in laws over here to read some of these stories; it’s made me feel better, it might do the same for them.
Claudia Dain on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:23 pm #
Thank you, Margaret!!!
Sabrina Jeffries on 18 Aug 2008 at 8:49 pm #
I’m a little late writing this, since I’m out of town and just now got to go online, but that was a wonderful story about the dogs in your life, and I loved the pic of your kids, not to mention the pic of a young DH!
We don’t have pets, but I did have them as children. I liked our pets, but never got terribly attached to them, so I think maybe I’m not a pet person. But I did like Conan–he was just so lovable! He will be sorely missed, to be sure.
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:08 pm #
Epitaph To a Dog
Near this spot
Are deposited the Remains Of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes
Is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, A DOG.
Who was born at Newfoundland May 1803
And died in Newstead Nov. 18th 1808.
When some proud son of man returns to Earth,
Unknown by Glory, but upheld by Birth,
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And stories urns record that rests below.
When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his Master’s own,
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour’d falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Deny’d in heaven the Soul he held on earth –
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:11 pm #
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy heart deceit.
By nature vile, ennoble but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn,
Pass on, it honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one – and here he lies.
- Lord Byron’s tribute to “Boatswain,” on a monument in the garden of Newstead Abbey.
Louisa Cornell on 18 Aug 2008 at 9:15 pm #
I just thought my boy George Gordon, Lord Byron said it really well.
My dogs and cats wish I would quit reading all of your posts as I keep hugging them kissing them! They’re looking at me like “Gee, Mom! Get over it! We’re right here!”
My condolences to all who have ever loved and lost a pet. If you ever want to know how much God loves you and the manner of his love – take a good look at how your dog loves you. It’s pretty close.
Claudia Dain on 19 Aug 2008 at 9:24 am #
Thank you, Sabrina. Conan really was one of a kind.
And thank you, Louisa. That was beautiful! It’s so moving to think that all through time, through every age, the bond between a pet and his human has been strong and meaningful.