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» Hatrack River Forum » Active Forums » Books, Films, Food and Culture » Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened.

   
Author Topic: Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened.
PanaceaSanans
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I have been wanting to start a "furry friends" topic for the past few days.

But yesterday I realized I could not possibly write anything more perfect than John's speaking.

So after asking his permission, this shall be the opening of a new thread in praise of beloved animals, be they deceased or living among you.


quote:
Originally posted by Dogbreath:

Clyde

He grew up into a big, hairy, loving, goofy looking mutt with a thick undercoat that was always shedding.
He was a great friend, too, especially for a boy like me.

He loved playing outside and wrestling, but was never too rough, and loved nothing more than playing soccer with the neighbor kids. (He didn't really understand the idea of teams, I think, just loved the idea of everyone running while chasing a ball back and forth and yelling and laughing.)

In the fall, when I would rake the leaves in the yard into a big pile, he would take a running start and jump into the leaf pile at full tilt, rolling around on his back, legs kicking and tongue lolling with his mouth open in a huge smile, enjoying both the cool weather and the feel of crunchy leaves itching his back, as well as the joy of foiling my attempts to get my chores done in any reasonable amount of time. (I would usually acquiesce and jump in the pile with him.)

He was the only dog I've ever known that howled. He would usually do this whenever I would sing to him: he'd throw his head back and harmonize with long, mournful choruses of "Arrrooooroooorooo!"

He was really chill and patient as well, we would dress him up in basketball shorts and a t-shirt and sunglasses, and he'd calmly lay on his back on the couch wearing that ensemble while we took pictures. He was also pretty cool with being hugged, or having his tail pulled by my bratty little sister, or being blow-dried all fluffy and ridiculous and given beauty treatments after his baths by the same.

He thought of himself as a pretty sly dog, as well. As a puppy he slept on my bed, but when he got big and much too hot for me to deal with (especially on hot summer nights, where having him in bed was like having a big, hairy space heater set to 102.5 F in bed right next to you), I made him a nice bed out of some old fuzzy rugs, placed behind my dad's recliner in the corner of our family room. Sure enough he would go lie down there every night, and be curled up there every morning, but somehow, mysteriously, there would be a fresh batch of dog hair on the couch every morning. Eventually, one night I snuck down the stairs taking care to avoid all the creaky spots (a skill that came in handy when I was a teenager) and found him sprawled out on his back on the couch, fast asleep. I went back to the stairs and creaked one of the steps and then came back around the corner quickly to see him stealthily roll off the couch and slink over to his dog bed... I cleared my throat and the sheepish, guilty look he gave as he slowly turned his head and realized I had witnessed the whole thing let me know that he knew the gig was up. (not that it stopped him from doing it in the future [Razz] )

He always seemed to understand when something bad was going on, or when someone was sad and needed comforting. After my brother-in-law died when I was 15, my sister came to stay with us for a while and he would go and put his head in her lap and just lay next to her for hours at a time, like he was trying to soak up all the sadness and hurt so she wouldn't have to feel it any more.

I wasn't there when he passed away, a few years ago, I was off in the Marines at that point. He had a stroke, I think, and one morning my sister woke up to find he wouldn't eat anything, and was barely able to walk. She called the vet to make an appointment to have him put down, and then as she sat on the floor and cried he crawled over to her and put his head in her lap and started licking her hand, trying to make her feel better about whatever it was that was making her so sad.

I still think about him a lot.


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ClaudiaTherese
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It is simply wonderfully written. Thanks to you both.

I can't talk about mine right now -- too frayed. (Pan, I had a Mycoplasma pneumonia on top of the seasonal asthma flare, and I got on Azithromycin right away so I could see patients right after the weekend. But heavens, I was falling asleep immediately after.) Napped through much of yesterday, and today's for rebuilding.

It's a three-day weekend here, and I'm aiming for a fun day on Monday. Not that remembering those you have lost is particularly fun, but the memories can be poignant and bring a smile. I want to tell you all about the Cat Who Loved Thunderstorms and Lightning.

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PanaceaSanans
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quote:
Originally posted by ClaudiaTherese:
Pan, I had a Mycoplasma pneumonia on top of the seasonal asthma flare, and I got on Azithromycin right away so I could see patients right after the weekend.

Surely you must know that I don't agree with you working in that condition. [Frown] Take care of yourself. You are precious. I hope you get well soon.
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ClaudiaTherese
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(All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing will be well. [Smile] Pan, I am careful, I promise. There just wasn't anyone else to do the work, you know? But thank you.)
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PanaceaSanans
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Just happened upon this in my archives and thought it would fit here well: Nexus, who stayed with me for half a year after he'd been hit by a car. He was unable to walk properly when I first met him while volunteering at the animal shelter (I wasn't able to afford a pet), so he needed special care and was given to me for fostering. Half a year later he was so well that he would climb up the ladder of my elevated bed - and meowed me awake at four a.m. every night so I would carry him down again.^^
When he stayed with my best friend for a while he once climbed out the rooftop window (we had not thought he could, at the time) but came back. He got along perfectly well with my mother's three dogs when I took him there for Christmas. He would also travel patiently in his box on the train (which was necessary for his frequent check-ups at the shelter). When his taste and ability for activity once again outgrew my tiny flat (the shelter still owned him), I found him an adoptive human mother with a big apartment and balcony, who absolutely adored and pampered him - and still does, as far as I know. [Smile]

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Stone_Wolf_
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I'll share wolves another time...

When I was fifteen, our rage monster, ex-marine neighbor casually announced that his cat had a litter of kittens, and he was going to go drown them in the creek.

"Like hell." I stood my ground, arms crossed over my chest as I expected a rage of crap from the adults...which never came.

Funny, he wouldn't let me take the six or so fuzz balls home for weeks, insisting they needed to ween.

When the litter arived, one of the black puffs kept hissing and swiping at us. I named him Louie, as in Lucifer, as in Satan, as in the devil.

We brought them in a cardboard box to church, mentioned around school they were up for adoption and their numbers dwindled.

I had my eye on a grey, with beautiful tiger stripes I called Shadow.

Funny thing happened. Louie wasn't evil anymore. Once it because clear that we weren't hurting his bros and sises, were, in fact feeding them, he came around. He wasn't evil, he was brave. Willing to defend his family with his pathetically small body.

He was smarter, sweeter and all around the most sentient of the kittens. Meanwhile my mother was falling for the other black, a female who was shy but cuddly.

We finalized our picks, and I knew that "Louie" wouldn't do. He wasn't evil.

He was brave, kind, intelligent and sweet, only dangerous when defending others...just like my favorite character...Ender Wiggins.

So the boy became Ender, his shy sis Valentine.

We grew up together...both of us becoming physical giants together. I ended up 6'2" 250 lbs, him 25 lbs of lean, coordinated pocket panther.

I'll scan in some pics...and share more Ender stories here later...

Like how he would disappear for days, only to reappear suddenly, his wonderlust spent for the week, collarless, purring with tufts of an other animal's fur in his claws.

We got a call a week later...his collar was found in someone's closed garage...three miles away.

He used to leap off the second story balcony onto the hood of my mom's jeep...totally dented up the hood, with no adverse effects to his monster paws.

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PanaceaSanans
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Good of you to stand up for them and save their lives. [Smile] It sounds like you were rewarded plenty by those lovely beings - and the names appear to be well chosen (fascinating how deeply I've grown to love the name 'Ender' by now). I would happily see some pictures and read more stories.
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Stone_Wolf_
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https://www.dropshots.com/Stone_Wolf_

Here are some pics of my Mr...the photo of the large young fella is me at age 22 or so (14 years ago, omg)...the older fella is my step dad (rip), and the lady is my mom.

The torty kitten is Nanny...now ten years old

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ClaudiaTherese
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[Smile]
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PanaceaSanans
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He is huge! And so beautiful. "Pocket panther" describes him well.

I especially like the picture of him with the Nanny kitten. [Smile]

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Stone_Wolf_
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I'll see if my mom can find our older animal photobook...when we got the kittens, we had two dogs (bro & sis basset/lab mixes)...the male, Max, was the kindest, most long suffering pooch I've ever met...we would cover him in kittens and take pics...Max would make these "please help me eyes" but never did he dislodge the puffballs.

I miss them like lungs miss air in space

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Stone_Wolf_
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So...Nanny wasn't her name at first...

Her first name was Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious, Precious.

Officially, her name is Abby Normal...

But we got her this stuffed banana...stuffed w/ cat nip...and she would go NUTS for it...she would also curl up and sleep w/ it.

So, her nickname was Abby Naners, short for Abby Bananas. When we had children, Nanners became Nanny, like the St. Bernard in the Darling house.

Now our kids don't even kno the car had a different name.

Anyone else's animal's names change over time?

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