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Friday, April 4, 2025

Just the Facts #8


 

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." (From A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh)


Hello, my lovely friends!
 
 
You know the drill, it’s Friday Funday! Let’s talk about all the animals in my life through the years. Let us all know about the special animals in your life.
 
 
1.  Okay, so our first dog was this majestic beast, a German Shepherd named Charlie. Now, picture this: I'm this tiny human, like three years old, right? So, my memories of Charlie are kinda fuzzy, mostly because he was clearly in cahoots with my sister. I think he saw me as more of a chew toy than a companion. Anyway, the drama! One day, poof! Vanished! We think some dog-napper swiped him right out of our backyard. We never saw that fluffy cloud of German Shepherd again. It was probably the first time I experienced true heartbreak... or maybe I was just bummed someone took my sister's favorite slobber machine. Who knows at that age?
 
 
2. We finally ditch the apartment life and BAM! New house, new rules, and most importantly, a new furry overlord. I'm maybe six or seven, still figuring out which end of the crayon goes in my mouth, and suddenly we're at the animal shelter. It felt like a puppy buffet! All these hopeful, slobbery faces, and then... there she was. A black poodle. We, in our infinite childhood wisdom, christened her Buffy. Yeah, like the vampire slayer, only way less stabby and way more prone to chasing squirrels. That fluffy black tornado stuck with us through awkward school dances and questionable fashion choices until I was about fifteen. Then, just like that, our little Buffy went off to chase the ultimate squeaky toy in the great beyond.
 
 
3. So then there was the Great Goldfish Era. It started innocently enough, right? A little bowl, a couple of orange dudes swimming in circles. But oh no, that wasn't gonna last. Suddenly, we needed an upgrade. Next thing you know, we've got a full-blown aquarium, practically a tiny public pool for these scaled celebrities. And of course, they all got names. Why wouldn't they? They were practically family... until they weren't.

Then came the solemn backyard burials. Tiny cardboard coffins for tiny departed souls. Seriously, imagine being the poor folks who bought our house later. They're out there planting petunias and BAM! They unearth a miniature graveyard of former finned friends. I bet they thought the place was haunted by the ghosts of forgotten goldfish. Good times. For me, anyway. Maybe not so much for the future gardeners.

 

4. On my 17th birthday rolled around, and you know what a cool teenager wants? A cat, obviously. Specifically, a black cat. So, off we trekked to the local animal shelter, which, let's be honest, always smells faintly of hope and a little bit of pee.

I was on a mission, people. I was strolling past all the cages, giving a little tap-tap-tap on the glass, expecting some kind of dramatic feline recognition. Nada. Zilch. These cats were clearly unimpressed with my window-tapping skills.

Then, BAM! This little dude – a black and white cat, mind you, totally not according to my meticulously crafted plan – sees my tap and goes full-on bouncy castle. He's leaping, he's pawing, he's practically screaming, "Pick me! Pick me, you magnificent window-tapper!"

Well, what was I supposed to do? Resist that kind of enthusiasm? No way. He was the one. Turns out, some folks had just dropped him off like an hour before. Seriously? Their loss was totally my gain. It was like the universe knew I needed a slightly off-brand black cat in my life.

So, I named him Rio, after my absolute fave Duran Duran album (because, you know, I was a cool teenager with excellent taste). We had nearly ten years of pure, unadulterated cat shenanigans. Then, the absolute worst happened feline leukemia came along. Saying goodbye was the pits. But man, those years with Rio? Totally worth every single window tap.

 

5. After my awesome cat Rio crossed the rainbow bridge, I was done with pets. Ten whole years of peace and quiet! Then, wouldn't you know it, some bonehead tried to break into my house. Suddenly, the universe was like, "Hey, guess what you need? A furry alarm system!"

So, off to the shelter we went. It wasn't exactly love at first sight with any of the pups at first. We made a few trips, kinda like Goldilocks looking for the perfect porridge, until BAM! There she was: Miss Bella, our beagle. Turns out, this sweet girl had been living the street life before some kind soul scooped her up and took her to the shelter. And get this – she'd already done a shelter tour! Apparently, she was a bit of a scaredy-cat, so the shelters were hesitant to place her with a family with kids. Jokes on them, right?

We had that little beagle for a glorious ten years. Then, in December of 2017, the same year my dad passed from old age, Bella's body just started giving up. It was heartbreaking, but we knew the kindest thing was to let her go. Talk about a tough year!

 

6. Back in March 2018, it was just Mom and me, and it felt like something was missing – a dog! We checked out a few places, but nobody really clicked. Then one night, scrolling online, I saw this big dog's description, and it just screamed "Bella" to me – no kids, found as a scared stray. It felt like a sign from our Bella that this was the one.

We went the next day to see him, but someone else was already in there. Then this sweet little old lady was holding this tiny dog, and he was just glued to her lap. We figured we'd take a peek at the little guy while we waited for the other dog. Well, this cutie waddled in, did this adorable little wiggle walk, and that was it. My heart melted. This was our dog. And that's how Scooter came into our lives. I even thought about naming him Hamilton, after Lewis Hamilton, the F1 driver, but yeah, Scooter just suits him perfectly.

 

 Thank you so much for stopping by! Hope your morning/afternoon/evening is extra cozy and delightful. Until our paths cross again!

5 comments:

  1. Oh, what a post to make a pet-lover tear up! All of our animals add so much to our lives!

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  2. Such great pet memories. I loved every tail, thanks for sharing them all. Have a wonderful weekend.

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  3. Bittersweet memories. Pets add so much to our lives. 💔🤗

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  4. How awful that Charlie was snatched! VERY sad to go through.

    Awwwww, my first dog was a boxer named Louie. BUT Louie wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. He was VERY protective of my youngest brother, so much so, that he’d growl @ Mom when she approached him (he was just a toddler!) So my parents took him to the Humane Society. Only they told us they took him to a FARM. I was old enough to know that was NOT what happened, because the Humane Society was in Chicago. No farms there! *SIGH*

    Our next dog was named Lucky. Lucky was only with us for 1 day. He ran away. I chased him trying to get him back for a long time. Stopped @ the police station so they’d call my parents to let them know. Ended up they took me home. Great! Nothing like being taken home in a police car! LOL Long and short of it is . . . Lucky never returned.

    THEN there was Mr. Spot. He was from the humane society. A poodle. (just like Lucky). He lived to be 20. Such a good boy.

    The next dog I had was Miss Brigit. She was special. She was an apricot poodle. Sweet, sweet girl. She only lived to be 11. She had Addison’s disease. Poor baby. She was a really good girl.

    Then Mr. Spot #2 – a mix of shi-tzu and poodle. What a guy. He was a feisty character. He lived t be 17. When my parents moved in with us (Mom had Alzheimer’s and Dad needed help caring for her), Mr. Spot #2 became his bestie. Dad passed on 12 August 2017 and Mr. Spot #2 passed on 31 August 2017. I am sure it was of a broken heart.

    And now we are graced w/Miss Lilly – she is a yorkie-poo. She’s mostly poodle, but boy, she jumps and digs like a terrier. She is a delight.

    What fabulous stories about your pets and so glad you and your Mom found Scooter. They just add so much to our lives!

    HUGS and blessings
    Barb
    1cd


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  5. It's Kathy. How sad that back then a dog wasn't safe in it's own yard! Growing up we had 2 cats, a solid black cat named Shegg (Norwegian for beard) and a calico named Gypsy. We had a lake cabin so my dad built a sort of kennel so we could bring them with when we went there. One day I came home from school and both cats were gone - my mom said one was sick and the other wouldn't survive without it's partner. I never forgave my mom for doing that without my sister and I knowing. As soon as I was married we got a cocker spaniel named Tripsicorie (goddess of dance). But he became very protective of me when my husband was overseas for a year and once my daughter was born it was clear we couldn't take a chance of him hurting her. There were other dogs and cats along the way until there were too many children. But when my twins were born, and we were settled in the home I live in now, we got Ginger, a golden retriever. It wasn't the best idea to have a puppy with twin infants - but Ginger was with us until the boys turned 15. And now we have Daisy - a golden/cocker blend. She looks like a miniature golden retriever with curly hair! She's almost 12 now but still going strong! But I think she may be my last pet. Not sure I have the energy any more! Thanks for allowing me to go down memory lane!

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