Dogs: Now, and Then

Hard place, osso. I've never dealt well with the loss of pets.

I'd love to hear some Pacco stories.

A Pacco story I don't know the surround about -


he was found on the highway, that is the big highway, highway 101, trudging down the road, not too far from KMart, in Eureka.

They took him to jail, at the Humane Society place south of town. They took a photo and put his photo in the Sunday humane society news, and nobody ever even called, even though I think the ad called him a corgi - you'd think the purebred types might notice - no one called until I did, something past a month later.

Me, I was lying on the couch and reading a police procedural on a sunday early afternoon, and my business partner called and said, "CORGI IN THE PAPER". Well, I was not wacko about corgies, but I did mention an attachment to some poor dog that lived with the people who rented the place across from my house, the nurses and labtechs and rad. therapists who go to smaller cities for a dollop at a time. Well, they rented there, and one had a corgi who lived in the yard all day. I called him 'sparky'. He just barked back.

I had mentioned this to my bus. prtnr, thus the lead.

So, it was a tuesday, on the way back from a useless job interview that we were just as glad to dump, we stopped at the shelter.

The good thing is that my bus. partner backed off, smartly - she is supersmart re animals, ranch, rodeo, and dressage, yadda, and didn't interfere - which could be instinctual - when they let the dog in the room with me.
I just knelt down and held him.

they asked me if I was allergic. I lied. I was allergic to irish setters, but, so what? I lived with one for many years.

I said I was allergic to cats. Very true.

They told me a corgi couldn't be let near cats, or maybe this particular corgi couldn't be let near cats.


that turned out to be not at all true.
Pacco often likes cats of his acquaintance

Anyway, I guess I passed, both of us are glad.

I'd love to hear Pacco stories as well. Osso, I'm sorry I haven't been keeping up with Pacco's health and agility. Tell us more about where he's at now.

(Your flower-hat pic is up at Jane's thread)

Not your fault, I don't post on it.

He's a mess, sloppy paws.

I can't tell from your post, is he unable to cross the kitchen floor now? You know, he may be low, but holding up his back end by looping a long towel under his belly wouldn't be bad for your back or his ability to cross the floor.

And, we all may go through the same things, but we do it in our own ways. You relationship with Pacco and mine with Boo are probably similar in many ways, but it's still your own personal relationship. This is your own personal journey. Don't think you're just another person-and-doggie-pal going through this. You're you and Pacco.

I'd like to hear more.


((((gentle hug to Pacco and Osso))))

When Pacco met Sally;
Pacco had been in his travel cage for several days for the drive from california to new mexico and arrived at our house at sundown xmas day. Pacco and Osso came into the house via the garage door and I let Sally and Pacco out the back door into the yard together. They had words but then two good things happened (1) pacco discovered Sally was a girl and (2) the human beans got the hell out of the way. Territory was defined and within 30 seconds Pacco and Sally were life long friends.
About a year later the lady Diane came home one day with Dante cat. Dante dealt right away with Sally dog by explaining that Dante was in charge (Fred was actually in charge) and Dante was actually a bit bored with Sally dog but then, a few days later Pacco came for a visit. Dante said "another freakin' dog!" Pacco just walked around the side of Dante and met with Sally and they went ouside to practice humping.

He's a mess, his paws don't work, mostly, and I assume soon not at all.



But his bark is still fulgent.

I haven't looked at dys' post yet..

he loves Pacco near as much as me...

Crossing the kitchen means me throwing towels.. Yes, I do that.

a lot of maneuvers to get him out the door to possibly pee

Osso, is it his hind legs, or all four? i saw a little girl in bratislava wheeling her cocker spaniel around on a skate board. the dog didn't mind one bit, in fact had a royal air of superiority about him, but i'm not sure how adventurous Pacco is. As they say, you can't teach an old dog new tricks. though sometimes you can. We strapped Bootsie into the doggie walker and she, albeit puzzled,learnt to operate it rather well. Got a few more runs out of it, which was even more important for her good spirits than her poor body.

just a silent, sad bookmark here.. nothing more.
Not yet.

His hind legs are failing fast. His corgi mind is well and fine, and is attached to me. BARK, BARK, he means it.

I dunno, I will probably choose early. Breaks my heart.

But wait, we all go through this.

Let's hear good times, even if they don't amount to stories... parts of stories.

On getting Pacco up on a cart to go at length from the house, I am recalcitrant. He already has troubles with the hall and the kitchen.

Well, all this stuff is one thing, but I gather myelodegenration isn't good past all this.

I'd rather give Pacco peace.

Never mind, I'm interested in stories re dog's late life.

I'll try to post re the Pacc as I get inspired.
sucha guy....

Listening.....

Oof, sorry not to answer. Threw my wad at the last bits, at least for this evening.

Osso querida, Heartbroken and breaking about Pacco.

You asked for dog stories. I have a few. The dogs weren't mine. They were relatives--my cousin's dogs, so my second cousins.

My cousin J had a big house and about 30 acres in upstate NY. He arrived there with two great danes, Cinnamon and her son who's name I can't remember. They soon took in a few strays. Word got out that they took in strays and people started dumping unwanted and problem dogs on their property. One was a tailless Corgi named Pearl. Pearl had been abused and was afraid to have people touch her. Shy but alert and interested in everything, she was special. She bonded with the other dogs and was ever present but always out of reach.

Whenever I visited, I made a point of taking a long walk alone on the mostly deserted roads. I loved the sound of the wildness around me and of hearing my footsteps on the pavement. For some reason, Pearl insisted on coming with me on these walks. Don't know why. But I felt honored. I'd be stepping along and she'd be around me, on the road and off, sniffing the bushes or walking beside me. I loved having her with me. I would sometimes talk to her softly. She seemed to listen. She never let me touch her, but I think we had a bond.

Aside from Pearl, my cousin's dogs were big. Two great danes, two German shepherds, two malamutes, a boxer, and a couple of large mutts. The boxer, the great danes, and Pearl were inside dogs. The others were outside dogs. The boxer, Tige, viewed herself as a lapdog, and by a size comparison, she seemed kind of small. She was sitting in my lap for a while and jumped down. Cinnamon had been sitting nearby. When the boxer left, Cinnamon got up and headed toward me. Then she turned around and started backing up. She backed her way onto my lap. Most of her was still on the ground, but her rear was definitely on my lap. I laughed and gave her a good back rub. She didn't want to feel left out.