wilbilt
Hot Rolled
- Joined
- Feb 20, 2005
- Location
- Honcut, Ca. USA
I have read many times that a man will have many good friends in his life, but only one good dog.
Today, I buried my good dog.
A Border Collie / Queensland Heeler 17 years old this month. Her name was Tasha, and without a doubt, she was the smartest dog I have ever seen.
She seemed to know when to do things and when *not* to do things. I knew that when she barked, there was something serious going on.
My oldest two kids are seniors in high school this year, but when they were little, Tasha would heel them around the yard and made sure they stayed out of trouble. She knew where they were allowed to be, and made sure they stayed there.
She had an instinctive desire to heel anything bigger than she was, and I always kept the gates closed so that she would not attempt to heel the garbage truck...
She has been an outside dog for the past 11 years. She always had a place to go to stay warm and dry, and seemed to prefer it to being inside. When she was inside, she usually wanted to be outside.
Just about the fastest thing, too. One time the neighbors were having a barbecue with lots of people over, and Tasha, of course, thought she needed to heel them.
I can still remember a couple of the visitors standing at the fence, watching her dodge back and forth, and saying "daaaammmmmnn".
A photo from January
Anyway, about a year ago we had to take her to the vet (the first time in her life) and she was diagnosed with heartworms. This affliction is spread by mosquitos, which we have plenty of.
The doc said there is a treatment, but that due to her age, she probably would not survive it. As a footnote, he added that it cost close to $1,000.
We took our chances, and it caught up this past January. We had a lot of rain, and then it got cold. After that, it rained a lot some more.
It seemed to pull the life out of her. She was old and spry one day, and struggling the next. I don't have the cash to haul her to the vet every other day.
This past week, it became obvious the end was near. She stopped eating, and took to lying down most of the time. Yesterday afternoon I sat with her awhile, but she was not intersted in eating or drinking.
I would have put her down then, but the only firearm I own is an old 12-gauge shotgun with a box of 00 buckshot. I couldn't do it.
Today, she finally gave it up. I came home from work and dug a hole.
Sorry for the long post, but I think she is worthy of mention.
Thanks,
Will
Today, I buried my good dog.
A Border Collie / Queensland Heeler 17 years old this month. Her name was Tasha, and without a doubt, she was the smartest dog I have ever seen.
She seemed to know when to do things and when *not* to do things. I knew that when she barked, there was something serious going on.
My oldest two kids are seniors in high school this year, but when they were little, Tasha would heel them around the yard and made sure they stayed out of trouble. She knew where they were allowed to be, and made sure they stayed there.
She had an instinctive desire to heel anything bigger than she was, and I always kept the gates closed so that she would not attempt to heel the garbage truck...
She has been an outside dog for the past 11 years. She always had a place to go to stay warm and dry, and seemed to prefer it to being inside. When she was inside, she usually wanted to be outside.
Just about the fastest thing, too. One time the neighbors were having a barbecue with lots of people over, and Tasha, of course, thought she needed to heel them.
I can still remember a couple of the visitors standing at the fence, watching her dodge back and forth, and saying "daaaammmmmnn".
A photo from January
Anyway, about a year ago we had to take her to the vet (the first time in her life) and she was diagnosed with heartworms. This affliction is spread by mosquitos, which we have plenty of.
The doc said there is a treatment, but that due to her age, she probably would not survive it. As a footnote, he added that it cost close to $1,000.
We took our chances, and it caught up this past January. We had a lot of rain, and then it got cold. After that, it rained a lot some more.
It seemed to pull the life out of her. She was old and spry one day, and struggling the next. I don't have the cash to haul her to the vet every other day.
This past week, it became obvious the end was near. She stopped eating, and took to lying down most of the time. Yesterday afternoon I sat with her awhile, but she was not intersted in eating or drinking.
I would have put her down then, but the only firearm I own is an old 12-gauge shotgun with a box of 00 buckshot. I couldn't do it.
Today, she finally gave it up. I came home from work and dug a hole.
Sorry for the long post, but I think she is worthy of mention.
Thanks,
Will