Dennis of Psychology, Dogs, Politics and Wine says in the comments:
and think about this: we are getting theology AND music recommendations from you now. Add some pictures of dogs and you'll give MadPriest a good run for his money!
OK, Dennis. Here's my dog. Not her best picture, but the one that I could find easily. She was not named after the tragic Princess Diana, but after Diana, the goddess of the hunt. You see, she was to be a hunting dog for my husband and sons. What can I say? That dog don't hunt. Period. When the men in my family take her into the woods and let her loose, she runs back to the truck and is ready to go home.
Our previous dog, Rusty, The Wonder Dog, was a natural hunting dog. He retrieved not only the kill of my husband and sons, but anyone else's that he could find. He's buried in our back yard, having died of lymphoma at the age of nine. He was so good that my men would like to clone him from his remains.
When Rusty began hanging around, and before we decided whether we were going to adopt him, he ran loose each night and returned to us in the morning dirty and exhausted. He's the only dog I ever knew of to have venereal disease. We put an end to his night roaming quickly, after we decided to make him one of the family. He lived peacefully with a goodly number of cats which were part of our ménage at the time.
But I digress. Back to Diana, the dog that don't hunt. She was a stray that was found with an arrow in her leg and turned in to the humane society. Fortunately, the arrow was lodged in the fleshy portion of her leg and did not pierce the bone. Our local paper put a large colored picture of her on the front page. Rusty had passed on about six months previously, and Diana stared at me from the picture. My husband and I talked about adopting her, and he finally agreed.
Diana is a good dog. She's about 10 years old and has never growled or snapped at a human, not even my grandchildren when they were toddlers and annoyed her. But she hates cats with a passion. We had one cat left when she came to us, and each time Boy went into the yard, he was chased up a tree by Diana, and we'd have to restrain her and rescue him. Boy died of kidney failure not long after Diana entered his life. Stress is my diagnosis of his final illness, stress that led to kidney failure.
Diana has glaucoma in one eye, and her medication costs the earth. She has cataracts, too, and is nearly blind in the bad eye. She doesn't listen either, but that's our fault, because we didn't train her.
So, there are my dog stories. If you don't approve of hunting, remember that I do not hunt, and if you are not a vegetarian, in my humble opinion, you have no moral ground on which to stand to speak against responsible hunting.
So, Dennis, am I giving the MadPriest a good run?
yes, ma'am.
ReplyDeletethose sound like some good dogs.
Dennis, do I detect a note of sarcasm in your comment?
ReplyDeleteGrandmere, Amen to the comment about moral superiority from non-hunting, non-vegetarians. I'm also from a hunting family and though I was a vegetarian for much of my adult life, get a kick out of the anti-hunting comments from people who don't mind factory farmed meats from their grocery store.
ReplyDeleteHunting: the original free-range, hormone-free meat.
(Somehow I doubt a venison stew discussion will involve the same passion as BBQ)
(Somehow I doubt a venison stew discussion will involve the same passion as BBQ)
ReplyDeleteLJ, I'm doubtful, too, although it is good, healthy meat without the bad-for-us-all hormones and antibiotics. I eat it, because it is tasty.
That is one fine dog, Grandmère. I'm hoping Mr. Dennis is just being polite. But you never know with those wine experts. (Says she, about to go pour herself a glass.)
ReplyDeleteGrandmere Mimi,
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful dog - and thank you for taking her in and making her a part of your life.
Although you claim that your dog was not named after your dog is nevertheless a Princess.
I think she considers the ride to the hunt just another carriage ride to meet and greet her subjects. Once she has made her official visit, she is ready to return to the more hospitable comforts of the palace.
The girl just needs to be taken care of properly.
BJ
P.S. To keep this in perspective this is from the guy with the lumber mill in his eye - I have been known to wrap presents or make Easter baskets for the dog - and it's not even my dog.
Jane, thanks. Keep in mind that Dennis uses one of his dogs as a pillow.
ReplyDeleteBJ, maybe we should ship the princess to you. It appears that you might lavish upon her a greater number royal perks than we do.
not a bit of sarcasm. honestly.
ReplyDeleteI am as serious as can be when it comes to a good dog. sometimes (often) I think I like dogs more than I like people.
((and as for the "yes, ma'am" bit, you have to remember that I grew up just three or four hours north of you, and even in my late 30s I still call people ma'am and sir. Which drives some people crazy but I'm too old now to stop. I've never had a southern accent but I still have a few southern words and phrases from growing up as a kid from a northern family living down in MS, with a grandmother from LA))
now, as to the dog and the pillow.
ReplyDeleteJackson starts out using a little nest of pillows above my head (requiring my feet to hang off the bed) but by the middle of the night he usually has claimed all of the pillows and I have to use him as a pillow.
Bella, who weighs almost as much as Jackson, usually tries to sleep on top of my back. And Gatsby, the Cocker Spaniel, thinks it is great to sleep on top of my legs.
My partner David, on the other hand, is always left alone with a whole half of the bed that those mutts never touch.
oh, did I mention that all three of them snore? like lawnmowers.
Poor Dennis,
ReplyDeleteHow can you get any rest??:) Love your dog, Mimi. Can't wait to get one of my own. If you saw over on Dennis' blog, we're on the waiting list for a puppy. I feel like I'm expecting?? (LOL)
BTW, guys, I'm missing MP. Does anyone know how long he's expected to be on vacation?
Grace.
Dennis, could it be that the dogs know who loves them best? I ask with Grace: don't you suffer from sleep deprivation?
ReplyDeleteGrace, I believe MadPriest said he'd be away two weeks.
I'm used to them now. Its gotten to the point that I don't sleep well without the dogs.
ReplyDeleteI'm hoping that MadPriest is back this weekend.
Grandmere Mimi,
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind offer, but PLEASE no thank you! My partner has a 90 pound Old English Sheepdog - the one who gets the baskets and goodies. She already tries to herd us and would be in seventh heaven with yet another animal to add to the flock. She is a real sweetheart who looks after us.
BJ
P.S. And I am not the permissive parent. Really!
Sweet thing.
ReplyDeleteAwwww...what a cutie!
ReplyDelete((((Diana)))))
I've never really liked venison; nothing against responsible hunting.
ReplyDeleteGrandmere, you are giving MP a run. Not just dog pictures but dog stories.
I grew up with chihuahuas and always had at least two curled up under the blankets with me each night.
Pepper, the dog I have now, does not sleep with me. She can have all the floor next to me that she wants. She's not all that big; about 55 lbs. Still, I see what she rolls around in during the day. She's not getting in my sheets. Ick.
Missy, I draw the line at dogs in the bed, too. When I had young children, they were not in my bed, unless they were sick. I was always a light sleeper, and children and dogs disturbed my sleep. Yes, I'm a meanie.
ReplyDeleteMimi, Diana is indeed a lovely dog. But you won't let her on the bed? I'd let Josh sleep with us if I could, but Nam won't allow it under any circumstances. I always loved having my dogs sleep on the bed. They'd usually stay down at the foot next to my feet. Don't know what the connection is between dogs and sleeping at their human's feet. Note all those medieval sarcophagi and church-floor grave stones of knights in armor with their faithful dog sleeping beneath their feet. As I write this, I'm watching Josh sleeping on his bed (one of many throughout the house) in front of the desk. The tip of his little pink tongue is sticking out, and his front paws tucked under. Dear little guy. He's fifteen now... mostly deaf, nearly blind (even with his two-year old corneal graft), and copes with his arthritis with twice-weekly injections & other pain meds. He still, after three years, misses our beloved Seal, who came to the end of her earthly stay while we were briefly living in Las Vegas. All of my dogs have found me. I never had to go in search of a one. They all just came to me... like gifts. Sarah (Old English), Coco (Kerry Blue Terrier), Seal (Kerry Blue), and now just Josh (Shih Tzu). They's been companions through a lot of stuff (as well you know, Mimi).
ReplyDeleteAre you familiar with "The Rainbow Bridge?" Says it all.
David, I checked out "The Rainbow Bridge". Very consoling. Rusty was more my husband's dog than mine. He cried like a baby when he took him to the vet to be put down when the lymphoma got too bad. I cried for Rusty, too, but not like my husband.
ReplyDeleteOne of my sons had an oil painting done from a photo of Rusty. It hangs on the wall behind me as I type.
All of our pets, both cats and dogs, came to us. We never sought them out. As you say, they were gifts.
THE RAINBOW BRIDGE
ReplyDeleteThere is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass. When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and the frail animals are young again. Those who are maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other. There is only one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So, each day they run and plan until the day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up! The nose twitches! The ears are up! The eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the group! You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet, you take him or her in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and again, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet. Then you cross over the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated.