So here we are on the Paw Paw pets Part Poo... I mean Two. Sorry, I was on an alliterative roll there. But poo isn't too far from the truth, either. That's the trouble with dogs, no matter their age or continence, they still manage to mess all over the house.
Anyway, the first dogs we acquired were stray puppies that showed up on our porch eating cat food. Also probably cat poop, because that happens and we all know it. So there they were, two black lab pups maybe two months old at the high end, and we apparently had no other choice but to take them in and make sure they didn't die. Immediately my brother and sister took to them since, yet again, I wasn't really in the mood to take on the responsibility of a dog. The caveat was that they had to stay outside until we got them shots and made sure they weren't riddled with fleas and ticks. And so there they stayed because they knew food was there and since it was summer, they had company. If I remember right they received the names Shadow and Ashley. We had them for a few months until something really bizarre went down one night.
If you recall, my parents were long since divorced at this point, but my dad would come by once a week and every-other weekend to spend time with us. Well one night he had just dropped us off from dinner and was backing out of the driveway. He had to stop to let a rare car go by (traffic on our road was virtually non-existent). Well, at the same time the dogs had gotten riled up because we were home and they were off their chains to greet us. I think you can see where this is headed. Shadow ran into the street and the passing car creamed him. It was a loud, cacophonous mess to say the least: a terrifying yelp, a shouting sister, barking dog, wailing tires, crying mom... it was a split second nightmare. Well, as I gathered my sister and tried to calm her, my dad actually comforted my mom (I think my step-dad was away). It was pretty odd, by nice. And then I helped my dad bury the dead dog. Two weeks later we woke to find Ashley had ran away, likely due to the loss of her sister. And that was that for our first two dogs.
Eventually, two more dogs arrived at the house. The first was a new Ashley (my brother liked that name, apparently) in the form of a Beagle puppy who was the runt of the litter and evidently just too cute for my brother to pass up. Ashley was pretty adorable and stayed relatively small her whole life. She became an inside dog since she was quickly brought up to health code and licensed, and we all really liked her. Well, not to be deterred, my sister found a pup of her own from a stock that belonged to a friend of hers. This one in particular was a mutt, but equally as cute, and looked like a tiny black fur ball. She was named Mariah. As she grew, she took on a tall, lanky, bizarre appearance and no one was quite sure which mix she was, but she was very smart and learned a bunch of pretty impressive tricks (she'd later go on to have pups, but we'd sell all of those). Ashley and Mariah were around about a three years when tragedy struck again.
Since Ashley was the runt, she often had health issues. Nothing major, but occasional seizures and odd things here and there. But it was one of these seizures that ended her life. Apparently, as she was outside one day, she was over near our neighbor's that had a giant pond. The dogs loved this since they could chase bugs and ducks and stuff and the neighbors didn't mind since they really didn't do much with it. So on this fateful day, Ashley seized and rolled into the pond and drowned. My brother was obviously quite saddened, but in a way it was his fortune that he was the one to find her. Not too long after, he found another pup to replace his Beagle in the form of a German Shepherd mix, which he named Manitou.
And Manny and Mariah were fast friends and inseparable for many years. Eventually a third dog was brought in because my sister wanted a new puppy. So, in an act of brilliance, she and my mom picked up a Lhasa Apso (yeah, another one) at the mall pet store. I hate those places, so I'm glad at least at the fact that she was saved from that death trap. But to say that the dog was anything shy of annoying and bitter is to say far too much. She instantly fell in love with my step dad and became very protective of him. I'm not sure if she felt his impending cancer coming on, but I've heard of dogs being able to sense such things, so I don't discount it. She was his dog, no doubt, till the day he died. Oh, her name was Maggie and she ended up moving on with my mom when she eventually moved out after my step dad passed. But that's another story for a far later time.
So, that about covers it for the dogs. In short: we had a lot of pets. Most of the time they were great and just friendly as can be. Sometimes they were psychos and fought each other, like dogs are wont to do. And sometimes they destroyed things and pooped all over the place. Again, as dogs will do. I haven't had one since I moved out. Dogs annoy me.
Anyway, the first dogs we acquired were stray puppies that showed up on our porch eating cat food. Also probably cat poop, because that happens and we all know it. So there they were, two black lab pups maybe two months old at the high end, and we apparently had no other choice but to take them in and make sure they didn't die. Immediately my brother and sister took to them since, yet again, I wasn't really in the mood to take on the responsibility of a dog. The caveat was that they had to stay outside until we got them shots and made sure they weren't riddled with fleas and ticks. And so there they stayed because they knew food was there and since it was summer, they had company. If I remember right they received the names Shadow and Ashley. We had them for a few months until something really bizarre went down one night.
If you recall, my parents were long since divorced at this point, but my dad would come by once a week and every-other weekend to spend time with us. Well one night he had just dropped us off from dinner and was backing out of the driveway. He had to stop to let a rare car go by (traffic on our road was virtually non-existent). Well, at the same time the dogs had gotten riled up because we were home and they were off their chains to greet us. I think you can see where this is headed. Shadow ran into the street and the passing car creamed him. It was a loud, cacophonous mess to say the least: a terrifying yelp, a shouting sister, barking dog, wailing tires, crying mom... it was a split second nightmare. Well, as I gathered my sister and tried to calm her, my dad actually comforted my mom (I think my step-dad was away). It was pretty odd, by nice. And then I helped my dad bury the dead dog. Two weeks later we woke to find Ashley had ran away, likely due to the loss of her sister. And that was that for our first two dogs.
Eventually, two more dogs arrived at the house. The first was a new Ashley (my brother liked that name, apparently) in the form of a Beagle puppy who was the runt of the litter and evidently just too cute for my brother to pass up. Ashley was pretty adorable and stayed relatively small her whole life. She became an inside dog since she was quickly brought up to health code and licensed, and we all really liked her. Well, not to be deterred, my sister found a pup of her own from a stock that belonged to a friend of hers. This one in particular was a mutt, but equally as cute, and looked like a tiny black fur ball. She was named Mariah. As she grew, she took on a tall, lanky, bizarre appearance and no one was quite sure which mix she was, but she was very smart and learned a bunch of pretty impressive tricks (she'd later go on to have pups, but we'd sell all of those). Ashley and Mariah were around about a three years when tragedy struck again.
Since Ashley was the runt, she often had health issues. Nothing major, but occasional seizures and odd things here and there. But it was one of these seizures that ended her life. Apparently, as she was outside one day, she was over near our neighbor's that had a giant pond. The dogs loved this since they could chase bugs and ducks and stuff and the neighbors didn't mind since they really didn't do much with it. So on this fateful day, Ashley seized and rolled into the pond and drowned. My brother was obviously quite saddened, but in a way it was his fortune that he was the one to find her. Not too long after, he found another pup to replace his Beagle in the form of a German Shepherd mix, which he named Manitou.
And Manny and Mariah were fast friends and inseparable for many years. Eventually a third dog was brought in because my sister wanted a new puppy. So, in an act of brilliance, she and my mom picked up a Lhasa Apso (yeah, another one) at the mall pet store. I hate those places, so I'm glad at least at the fact that she was saved from that death trap. But to say that the dog was anything shy of annoying and bitter is to say far too much. She instantly fell in love with my step dad and became very protective of him. I'm not sure if she felt his impending cancer coming on, but I've heard of dogs being able to sense such things, so I don't discount it. She was his dog, no doubt, till the day he died. Oh, her name was Maggie and she ended up moving on with my mom when she eventually moved out after my step dad passed. But that's another story for a far later time.
So, that about covers it for the dogs. In short: we had a lot of pets. Most of the time they were great and just friendly as can be. Sometimes they were psychos and fought each other, like dogs are wont to do. And sometimes they destroyed things and pooped all over the place. Again, as dogs will do. I haven't had one since I moved out. Dogs annoy me.
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