Wow! This weeks goodies are really GOOD!!! It's the winners of the Best Tale of Animal Companionship Contest Sponsored by Ghatten's Guide!
Thanks to all who entered the Contest! There were twelve entries and each deserved a prize! Thank for participating. Ghatten hopes you enjoy the judges' choices for First, Second and Third Places below and Ghatten's Special Award for the Best Cat Tale.
Make sure you have your tissues ready before reading these!!!!
MY FRIEND KELLY
The sun continues to rise and fall each day, but I don't see it. The weather is changing, but I don't feel it. A part of my heart has died. I've lost my best friend. Her name is Kelly.
Kelly was born on April 8, 1985. It was a cold and snowy spring day. She was special from the first. She picked me as well as my picking her. She climbed out of the puppy pen twice trying to convince me that she was the one.
Kelly went to her first fun match at the age of 9 weeks. She ended up going Best of Breed Puppy and placing in the group over older puppies. Then at her first show at 6 months she won the puppy class and went Reserve Winners Bitch. That was the first of her 19 Reserves.
She finished her Canadian Championship in 7 shows. During this time she also was winning in the U.S. She ended up with 12 points including a major. 9 of her Reserves were to a major. We never did get the second major. It didn't matter. In my eyes she was a champion and more.
She earned her CDs and CDXs in straight shows. Sometimes in the obedience ring she acted pretty silly, but she did what I asked of her. My favorite story recalls the show where she was competing for her second leg in Open. During her heeling pattern (Open is all off-leash), the judge called for a "slow". I glanced down at Kelly and she's in perfect heel position, but she's scooting her behind on the mat. As I started to laugh, I quickly glanced at the judge who was also laughing. She choked out a "halt" and I stopped walking. When I stopped, Kelly had stopped, still in heel position with a beautiful straight sit. She was looking up at me waiting for my next command. I completely lost it there in the ring. I looked at the judge and she's laughing so hard tears are running down her face. One of my friends in the stands literally fell out of her chair with laughter. Once we got it out of our systems and wiped our eyes, the judge came over to me and told me that she didn't know how to score Kelly's heeling since Kelly was never out of heel position. That set us off laughing again. Kelly was looking up at me and smiling the whole time. How I miss that smile!
Kelly became deathly ill just shy of her 5th birthday. She was on Tri-meth Sulfa drugs for an infection. My veterinarian feels that she had a reaction to the drugs which caused her immune system to crash. Her platelet count went from a normal 350,000 to around 2000. I wasn't even able to cut her nails for fear of her bleeding to death. It was touch and go for 6 weeks. My life went on hold while I nursed her back to health. She was so sick I had to feed her with a 60 c.c. syringe to get food down her. Most of the time, the food didn't stay down long. She was such a strong dog mentally and she really put up a fight to live.
Finally she was well again, but that illness took a big toll on her. Her face turned gray almost overnight. She was never quite the same dog as she was prior to her illness. She seemed a little more frail. Before her illness, she had earned 10 titles and had one litter. When the danger of her bleeding to death passed, I had her spayed and retired her.
She enjoyed her retirement playing the "queen" with the other dogs. She taught all her grandkids and great-grandkids how to play with her toys. Sometimes I'd find her standing over the whelping box, dropping tennis balls to the puppies inside. She didn't understand that 2 week old puppies weren't ready yet to play with her.
We were close before her illness, but afterwards we were even closer. She went with me practically everywhere. Her favorite trip was to the pet store to buy dog food. As I pushed the cart down the aisle, she'd be behind me, trotting merrily along, smiling and wagging her tail. She'd check every bin, but was too well mannered to take anything. The employees greeted her by name and always gave her small treats.
When she turned 8, I consulted with my vet about showing her in Veterans. He gave us the go ahead and Kelly took it from there. At her first show as a veteran, she won Best of Opposite Sex in Veterans Sweeps, placed in the regular veterans class and in Veterans Obedience. (no butt scooting this time) At her second show she won the veterans class again and then placed in veteran's obedience at another show. She had always loved to show and she was no different as a veteran. She smiled the whole time and her tail never stopped wagging.
In October of 1993, I noticed Kelly started to pick at her food. This was very unusual for her. I took her to the vet and after blood tests, discovered she was in the beginning stages of kidney failure. I was devastated. After fighting off her previous illness, I wasn't sure we were ready for another. We changed her to a prescription food and changed her lifestyle. I learned very quickly about chronic kidney failure and how insidious it was. Remarkably, she seemed to do very well considering the horrible disease. She stayed happy and relatively healthy. Looking at her, you wouldn't have known she was sick. She continued to rule the roost with the other dogs. We stabilized her kidney function with the help of the prescription food and she stayed stable for almost 18 months.
Her kidney function tests started to elevate in early 1995. This showed that her actual kidney function was starting to weaken. I once again focused solely on Kelly and her health. I had her blood checked monthly to determine her levels. She continued to be happy and enjoyed her short walks each day.
Finally, just after Labor Day, she quit eating again. Her kidney function tests showed another drop and I asked my vet if maybe it was time. I didn't want her to suffer. My vet felt that Kelly hadn't reached the end yet. She was still smiling and showing interest in everything around her. We changed her to another prescription food and she seemed to perk up. My vet did tell me that his prognosis wasn't very good. He felt that she had less than a year to live. I tried to brace myself.
On September 28 I had to be gone most of the day. Since I wasn't sure how long I would be gone that day, my mother-in-law came over to take care of the dogs. Kelly's kidney problems caused her to have to urinate more often. When I got home later that day and fed the dogs, Kelly refused to eat. She just looked at her dish and walked away. She was pretty listless the rest of the night. She would eat a little bread out of my hand, but that was all.
The next day, Kelly again refused to eat and hardly had anything to drink. She basically laid in a corner most of the day and kept to herself.
I called my vet and made an appointment for later that day when my husband would be home and could help me bring her in.
I knew in my heart that the time had come. I spent the day sitting on the floor with her. I held her most of the day and cried. She licked the tears from my face. She was only 10 years old. It was too soon to say good-bye!!
The vet examined her and agreed that her time had come. I held her and told her I loved her and thanked her for being my dog. She died peacefully in my arms. Too soon - much too soon. I sat on the floor with her for awhile, my tears wetting her beautiful coat. I looked up at my husband and vet and they had tears in their eyes too. My vet said that she was a good, brave dog. Most dogs wouldn't have lived almost 2 years as sick as she was. It showed she had a lot of courage.
Back home I look for her smiling face, but its not there. The other dogs help me to cope with my grief, but I feel numb. I pet them and play with them and I feel better. They are a part of her.
Three weeks later the gray, blustery day, matches my mood. Kelly made a lot of friends during her lifetime. Their cards and letters help. I smile once in awhile when I think of her. The tears don't come quite as often. I catch myself still looking for her sometimes. A part of my heart is missing. I'll miss her forever. Sleep well my beloved Peanut, my friend.
by Laura M.
A Special Bond
By Tootsie
When my husband and I were dating, my children and I would go out to the country to visit him and his grandparents, who are real country home folks, do their own plowing and canning, butcher their own hogs and make sausage, that kind of Old Time life. They have hearts a big as East Texas, and just naturally lend a hand to people and critters alike who have a need. Since they live so very far out into the Big Thicket, life is slow, and quiet, and once in a while somebody lets an animal out on the highway and drives away, hoping I guess that although they don't want the creature themselves, maybe it will be lucky and find someone else to take it in, or at least they won't have to deal with putting the animal away.
A few months before we came to visit the first time, a small female beagle-chihuahua mix, about 8 or 10 pounds, had been let out pregnant, and was in very bad condition. It looked like maybe her ribs were broken. She was so timid that she crawled on her belly whenever anyone approached her, begging to be allowed to exist and breathe. She stayed first at one house and then another, always treated well but not really a welcome addition at any place in particular, until she gravitated to Granny and Pop's house "on the sand hill," as Pop always calls it. She was so pitiful and so afraid, especially of men, that their hearts went out to her in a special way. She took to Pop without fear, and became Granny's constant companion, still begging for permission to live.
She had her puppies, four tiny things that did not live long, a few hard days at most. Granny and Pop had the dog neutered, and she took to the country life like a pro, bumming around with the other, bigger yard dogs and sniffing out rabbits and deer and cats. She followed along the rows behind Pop's tractor. She would limp first on one back foot, and then on the other. Everybody thought it was probably a risidual effect of mistreatment. She had palpable knots of healing bone down both side of her rib cage.
Well, we started coming around, and being women and children, we were not too big a threat to her, and she slunk up to see if we would grace her with a pat or a rub, or at least not a kick. When she was well recieved, she would brighten up, wag her tail, and limp first on one hind foot and then on the other. My daughter was especially taken with her. They hated to part, and the dog would try to get in the car.
Very soon, my daughter had her sixteenth birthday, and Granny offered the dog to the girl. What a wonderful gift it was! Two happier creatures you have rarely seen!
The girl is Dana. She has grown up and got out on her own. The dog is Lady. They are still together today. When my daughter comes to visit us, the dog mopes until they are reunited, and then goes into paroxysms of joy, jumping up and twisting about, and limping first on one hind foot and then on the other. Each is never separated from the other for very long at a time, and both are enriched by the companionship of the other.
Dana/Lady, Lady/Dana.
They are a set.
Sheba
By Annette
Sheba was a border collie of extraordinary intelligence. She was a perfect family dog. She loved playing with the kids and they taught her tricks, which she picked up promptly. She was obedient, beautiful and courageous. I say courageous because she probably saved my life.
It was time for our children to come home from school. I put a leash on Sheba so that we could go meet them. David and Dianna had to cross a very busy road to get home, so I liked to walk them home if possible. I felt better about their safety, and it was a good outing for Sheba and me. I am especially glad that I went to meet them on this day.
Two men were sitting in a white utility company van parked beside the road. The one on the drivers side called out to me. I thought they probably needed directions, and I went over to help them. Instead, the man started talking oddly; asking questions about where he might be able to find a dog like that one and was it a good watchdog? I answered politely but was feeling a strange uneasiness. As I walked on past the rear of the van, the other man quickly came around the far side, opened the back doors and reached for me. Sheba went berserk; snarling and lunging at the man. I was so busy trying to keep her from tearing his arm off, that it wasn't until the man hurled himself into the van and they hurriedly drove off, that it finally dawned on me what a close call it had been. If it weren't for Sheba... She had been walking quietly at my side, calm and docile looking. The men probably never dreamed how fiercely she would defend me.
She has been gone for some years now. It was a loss of unbearable proportion when she died. Time has dulled the pain, but not our wonderful memories. I would wish that everyone could have a dog like Sheba at sometime in their lives.
Spotty saved the day!
by Sandy
My story of animal companionship happened only two months ago. My Dad, who lives in Rensselaer, NY, was taken ill and I was notified by the local police there that he was in very critical condition and that I should come home right away. You see, I live in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 3000 long miles away.The next day I booked a flight and arrived home one day later. I went right to the hospital and was surprised to see my Dad awake, though very weak, talking to my daughter about feeding his cats. He has five of them, all very sweet and all very spoiled by him. I assured him that we would go right to his home and check on them and feed and water them. This put his mind to ease and he fell asleep in a short time. Well, when we got to my Dad's home, we fed, watered, and let out four of the cats, but Dad's favorite, Spotty, was no- where to be found. We searched all the rooms, cellar, the yard, to no avail, no Spotty. I guess that I assumed that Dad must have let him out before he got sick and forgot about letting him back in when he was taken ill. I wondered how I was going to tell him that Spotty was gone. Well, we went back to the hospital, Dad was still asleep, sedated, so we went back to my daughter's home for the night. The Dr. called in the early morning and voiced concern over my Dad getting excited or agitated by our presence and asked if we would wait a few days to visit him, when he was a bit stronger. We agreed, and I spent the next three days catching up with old friends and enjoying my daughter and my two grandsons. We were called by the nurse on the fourth day and told we could visit Dad...he seemed to be well on the way back to his old self. He was eating well and sitting up now, recovering nicely. He asked the nurse to have me go to his home and bring him some of his own pajamas, so we made a trip to Rensselaer to pack a bag with his pj's and toiletries. I was sorting clothes on his bed when something crawled out from under his pillow and leaped onto my lap. After I calmed down from being startled by the little cat I took a closer look at Spotty. No food for almost a week and he stilled purred while I rubbed his neck. The only thing he had was the toilet to drink water from, as we had taken the other four cats to my daughter's till we knew if Dad would be able to go home. This sweet-tempered cat was standing his own vigil, uncomplaining, hungry, hidden under the pillows where he slept with my Dad every night. I found a can of tuna in the kitchen and after spotty had finished all he wanted, I brought him out to the car and went straight to the hospital. I confess, I did something that isn't allowed...I held Spotty under my coat, and prayed he wouldn't meow, bringing him right to my Dad's room. Boy, you should have seen my Dad's eyes when he saw Spotty! They lit right up with happiness! They had a short visit, and then I brought Spotty to my daughter's to join his other four kitty friends who were being pampered and played with by my grandsons. Ten days later Dad came home, looking and feeling great! My last glimpse of my Dad when I left his home to come back to South Dakota was of him holding Spotty with a big grin on his face! Spotty saved the day with his belated but welcomed appearance!!!
Back to Ghatten's Guide