May 1st 2011 9:49 am
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There's been a lot of celebrating a certain wedding there on earth the past few days. My folks also had a wedding on April 29, although 16 years earlier.
This year the folks took Friday, April 29th off to spend the day together. Mostly they caught up on yard work in the pleasant weather. Pepper benefited greatly by having ball throwers at her beck and call much of the day.
In the evening the folks went out to a nice dinner, just the two of them. The Boy and Pepper stayed home and I watched over them, as I do.
That night Mother watched the highlights of the royal wedding on tv. Ever after, the folks will share this day as an anniversary with the royal couple, two young people with their lives ahead of them. May they do well!
April 25th 2011 7:21 pm
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For a while now, I have pondered whether to start a Dogster page for my Rainbow girl, Jamaica. Initially my thought was to just move forward with Pepper. I was not comfortable introducing a nonearthly dog to Dogster. I still have some mixed feelings about it.
But often, especially in April, I find my thoughts turning to her. I see her in Pepper's chow mix friends here on Dogster. In moving forward, must her memory be left behind?
As Pepper has observed, I am not the quickest acting of human beings. Jamaica lead me to Dogster. It seems fitting she should have a page.
Thank you for the warm welcome she has already received with pup pal requests, an emerald and a lot of bones (320 to be exact)!
Yours in Dogster,
Jamaica & Pepper's humom
April 24th 2011 11:36 am
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Jamaica was our first dog as an adult, married couple. And, yes, learn from her we did.
We had been married for a year and had just moved into our house a month before Jamaica came into our lives. Mistakes, indeed, were made with her upbringing pretty much from day one. Jamaica was not socialized. Jamaica was not trained. Jamaica had issues.
We learned from Jamaica that not all dogs are born friendly. Jamaica had an Australian Shepherd mom. Her dad was a neighbor’s Chow Chow. So basically she was part of an oopsie litter. I did have a little nagging of doubt when checking out this litter of pups. Not one of them wanted to come investigate the humans. So, we picked a pup by choosing the one who broke from the pack to chase a cat. In essence, the one with the highest prey drive!
Jamaica was a sweet, funny, loving, gentle girl. She was also aloof, protective, insecure, skittish and downright aggressive to strange dogs and people. Basically if she didn’t know you as a pup, you weren’t part of her pack and she didn’t like or trust non pack members.
Jamaica was very stoic. She never whimpered, she never cried in fear or sadness. She was deathly afraid of thunder, and most loud noises, but she never whined or reacted destructively. Instead she would hide and cower. She was a quiet girl especially when she was scared.
Jamaica was a very dignified, ethical dog. She never dumpster dived. She never took food off the table or counter. She never drank out of the toilet. She always waited her turn for a treat.
She would bark in happiness when asked, in an excited voice, if she was “ready to go for a walk!?” She would then prance and dance in anticipation. A walk was one of very few reasons to abandon her dignity.
Jamaica had her issues. I was disappointed to have a dog children could not pet. That was not something I anticipated, an aggressive dog that I raised. There were times I wondered if we had made a mistake picking out one of those timid, unfriendly pups. But now I understand the real mistake was in not helping her to be a more confident, socialized dog. The mistake was in not even knowing we could help her. The mistake was ignorance.
But enough with the regrets. Jamaica had her furever family and lived her life as a cherished and loved member for 12 years. She thrived in the peace and quiet of the home in the mountains we were able to provide. She loved her doggy furiends. There was quite a neighborhood pack when she was a puppy. She loved us, her family. We weren't perfect, far from it, in fact, but think we did ok and managed to give her a happy life. We love and miss her greatly.
Jamaica's earthly humom
April 24th 2011 10:12 am
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Life as a puppy was pretty good. I had lots of fur siblings and a fur mom. Then one day two people came and took me away from my fur family. I was scared. But I didn’t cry. I was a quiet girl.
The furst night I slept in a room all by myself. There wasn’t much furniture in this room. My new peoples had not lived here very long. I was scared. But I didn’t cry. I was a quiet girl.
The next night I slept in the people's room in a laundry basket lined with blankets. This was better. I wasn’t as scared. Why didn’t they have me in here with them in the furst place?
I soon was bigger and figured out how to tip over the laundry basket. From then on I was pretty much free in the house.
I really liked a little stuffed koala bear that sat on the floor in one of the rooms. There was a mama koala holding a little baby koala. It was the little baby that I liked. I didn’t hurt the little baby. I just liked carrying him around. This was the only stuffed animal I ever played with.
Once the pa-man's sister came to visit with her dog, Mandy. Mandy and I got along great! She was a sweet, big, black lab mix and by this time I was about a 7 month old puppy. The pawrents decided to take us for a drive and go for a walk at a place in California called Monterey. There were lots of other people walking in Monterey, too. It was a beautiful sunny day.
A little boy came up and wanted to pet me. I guess because I was the cute puppy. I moved away. I did not know this little boy. I did not want him to touch me. He followed me over the other side of the humom. I moved away again. He followed me again! He was not getting my signals! So I nipped in the air toward his hand. The dadster told me that was really bad! He was mad at me! :(
The little boy was not much fazed by my nipping. But I got my point across and he did not mess with me anymore. Humom told him to pet Mandy and she, Mandy, took over entertaining this kid. Whew! Thank you, Mandy!
Another time, the folks thought I would enjoy a walk through the woods. Problem was we had to pass thru a creek. It was a hot day and they wanted to get to a water hole they heard about. This is when we all learned I REALLY HATE WATER(not just baths)! Then the crazy people let me off lead. I really wanted to run away after they practically drowneded me! But they were the only people I knew and so I stuck around. But I had to go thru that creek again to get back to the car. This was the one and only time we took that walk!
My bestest friend was our good neighbor lady. She had a Scottish terrier and a German Shepherd dog when we furst met her. The German Shepherd’s name was Savannah. Savannah was old. She had not had the best life and spent much time on the end of a chain, outdoors, always. But neighborfriend lady rescued her and made her last months the best times of her life. Savannah was my teacher.
Savannah taught me to run off with her when we were off lead while walking in the woods with our humoms. We always came back but pretty much in our own good time. Savannah also taught me to be polite. She didn’t take a lot of guff from Arnie, the Scottish terrier. But she was pretty tolerant of me, puppy that I was. But one day I was getting to be bigger and there were treats being handed out and somehow I ticked her off. She held me down with her paw. This time I was scared but I DID scream and cry. I was so surprised! I never ticked her off again. She was old and did not live too long after that. But I learned my lesson and always waited politely for my treat after that.
My best doggy friend was a Golden Retriever named Sadie. Sadie was only a year or so older than me. We had the best of times romping around together. Once, I started diggin' a hole and Sadie wanted that hole fur herself. She tried to hold me down with one paw and dig with the other. This didn't work out so well fur her! Silly Sadie!
When I was about a year old the folks brought home a small, loud, strange skin creature. I was scared. But I didn’t cry. I was a quiet girl. Fur the furst and only time in my life I chewed up something, a blanket.
The previous month, I was really enjoying that humom was staying home with me and not going off to work. It was just the two of us all day. But boy, humom's stomach was sure getting big! Time to lay off the Cheetos, Mom! Then a couple days before the weird skin creature came humom announced that her water had broke. The folks hurried out of the house that morning. Dadster came back to check on me that night and the next morning but I didn’t see Mom. When she finally came home the next day after that, she had the weird skin creature.
I soon figured out the creature was a human baby and he was here to stay. I was a very good big sister. I was not overly interested in the baby but as he grew I tolerated his interest in me. Once when he was about two he fell (or jumped) on me when I was in a deep sleep. I growled and jumped up, I was MAD (anyone would be!), but I just trotted away and found another place to sleep. Humom told the kid off for doing that to me and it did NOT happen again.
Me and the boy found our peace. He was not really a tormenting kid and when he tried to hug me or whatever I would just lick his face. That gave him some attention from me and he would be satisfied and stop bugging me.
When I was about two goodneighbor lady got a German Shepherd puppy. She named him Thor. Thor was pretty big even as a puppy. He liked tennis balls. He would carry one around with him all the time. I had NO interest in tennis balls. But I loved to take his when the opportunity came up. Gentleman that he was he would wait for me to drop it so he could get it back. I LOVED teasing him! But he tormented me by attacking me in greeting every time I came out of the house. So I think we were pretty much even in the tormenting department.
When I was about 8 something happened to my knee and I was only using 3 legs to walk. The folks waited a day or two to see if it would get better. It did not. Humom took me to the vet.
I ALWAYS HATED going to the vet. HATED IT! Anywoof, the vet said they needed to take x-rays. Humom left me with those horrible vet people for a day. Can you believe it?! After the x-rays they said I need something called surgery.
A week later I was dragged back to the vet for the surgery. I stayed there all day and all night. When I came out my leg hurt even worse! I think they cut it up! I was not too happy with the human race at that time. I WOULD NOT LOOK AT HUMOM THE WHOLE RIDE HOME!
Then I couldn’t go on my normal walks for several weeks! WEEKS! Also I was put in a crate fur the furst time in my life! Plus I had to go back to the vet every couple of weeks fur check ups. Luckily these times I never got left there.
Well, eventually I started using all of my legs again. About a year later I was pretty much all better. Thankfurly I never went thru anything like that again. But I was getting to be an old girl and this experience pretty much aged me faster.
By the time I was 11 I was the last of the original dogs on my street. My friends were all gone, even Thor, though he was younger than me. I do not make new friends easily and life was a bit lonely that year. I loved my peoples but I was always a dog's dog. My doggy pack was imporfurant to me.
12 years old is not exactly ancient fur a dog but it was my time to follow my furiends to the Rainbow. A vet came out to the ole homestead. I was scared. But I didn't cry. I was a quiet girl.
I left my earthly body on a sunny but cool, breezy April day, in the great outdoors, where I always preferred to be, with the humom by my side.
Fur a quiet dog who does not bark much, this is one long entry, but hey, this is my life's story!
Wags from the Rainbow,
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