Toby

Toby is not a dog I ever got to meet in the fur. He was my husband's pup of yore from his teenage/young adult years. I feel I know him, though, from all the funny, charming stories my husband has told me about him over the years. I don't think I can do those hearsay stories justice so I won't even try. But I feel the need to mention him because he is THE reason we have Pepper today. He was a black lab who made a lasting impression on that young boy who later became my husband.

Thanks, dear Toby, you loved him well!

Yours in Dogster,
Jamaica & Pepper's humom

Jamaica

My black doggies have come full circle for I am back to Jamaica:)

Shortly after the purchase of our home a lady I worked with mentioned having a friend who was looking for homes for the roley-poley puppies her dog had. The friend lived right in our town of Boulder Creek and with the roley-poley description we had to go see them.

Fur mom was an Australian Shepherd and fur dad was a Chow Chow. These were some truly adorable puppies and roley-poley was accurate to describe them. Although, 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!

If my sin with Tammy was indifference and neglect, my sin with Jamaica was ignorance. I truly believed all dogs were born friendly and only human mistreatment caused aggressiveness. I did not put much stock into breed traits. Boy was I to learn a lesson from Jamaica! She had the skittishness of the Aussie and the aloof protectiveness of the Chow. This was one pup who really should have gotten dedicated, deliberate socializing!

Thank God for the one neighbor who showed some interest and affection for her! For that was the only socializing she got. This neighbor, at the time, had two dogs of her own. Along with her own dogs, she not only would walk Jamaica she walked another neighbor's dog, Sadie. Sadie was just a few months older than Jamaica and they made a good pair. Sadie was the clown and Jamaica the nervous nellie. Jamaica was a cherished member of this little pack.

When Jamaica was about 11 months old we brought home our first, and only, child, another time of human selfishness. When we got Jamaica we thought fertility problems were in our future. Had I known we would be having a child in such a short time span I would have held off on the dog. But before she was a year old we became a family of four.

After Tammy, I had made certain promises to myself about my future dogs. A walk twice a day and indoor/outdoor privileges were mandatory along, of course, with regular meals and fresh water. With the help of my husband and neighbor these promises were kept. Jamaica was not a neglected dog in regards to her physical needs.

I call her skittish, aloof and unfriendly. But this was only with strangers. With her family/pack she was loyal, quiet and tolerant. She was never aloof with that one neighbor lady who loved her so. She was quite enthusiastic in greeting her every time she came by. If it wasn’t for Jamaica I might never have known what a special, caring friend I have.

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 pack. 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.

Jamaica hated car rides. She also hated going to the vet. Two months after her 12th birthday I noticed blood in her urine. I took her to the vet and explained this was their one shot. If it was a simple, easy to clear up matter we would take care of it. I was quite annoyed that their main priority seemed to be to sell me more heart worm preventative. A week later they wanted her back to draw a direct urine sample. They could have done this at the previous visit. I would not have objected then. We did not return. With her age and temperament I would not put her through more car rides and more veterinary procedures.

Within the month she stopped eating. I called a mobile vet to come out to the house. We let her spirit loose on a beautiful spring day in the outdoors she loved so much.

She was truly a Boulder Creek dog. She rarely left this town during her life. She was born, lived and died here.

Dogsterly yours,
Jamaica & Pepper's humom

Tammy

This will be the most difficult black dog life story for me to relay. I’m reluctant to use the term ‘Heart Dog’ as several dogs lay claim to my heart and I hate to imply any lesser love for them. But if hard pressed to pick just one dog, it would have to be Tammy. Maybe it’s just the time she occupied in my life, a time of raging adolescent hormones and with it the grand dramas and fervent emotions.

I was 11 years old when we got Tammy. My poor mother was basically out voted in the choice. My father, gruff and grouchy bear he can sometimes be, is actually a kind, gentle man always looking to make us kids happy. He was rather naughty about occasionally bringing home pets without consulting with Mom. We already had a bit of a feral cat he brought home from work one day because a co-worker was looking for a home for it and Dad knew I had been wanting a cat! Another time he brought home some birds.

Anyway, back to Tammy. Her fur mother belonged to a friend/neighbor. Well obviously fur mom got pregnant and had puppies and of course, I wanted one. At the time Mom did not want another animal. We already had our dog Curly and Charlie, our cat. Also, Mom was a bit troubled by the destructive tendencies she had heard about in Tammy’s mother.

But Dad, soft touch that he is, sided with me, with the agreement she was MY dog and MY responsibility. Well as a parent myself now, we know how that tends to work out! I loved that dog dearly but I was not always a very good dog parent.

Tammy was such a sweet, gentle girl. Her mother was some sort of collie mix, her father a husky. Tammy, herself, had the look of a shepherd/husky mix. You can imagine her grooming needs.

Believe it or not, I did good by her in those early years. I can take credit she had a very happy puppy-hood and young dog life.

We lived in one of those neighborhoods in a time when all the kids came outside to play together, especially in the summer. Tammy was just like one of the kids. She went everywhere with me and my friends. Through this natural process we had unknowingly thoroughly socialized this dog. She was confident and in no way aggressive.

5 years later at age 16, I started to drive and the time of forgotten meals and empty water bowls began. My folks picked up the slack but I know she suffered, mostly emotionally from my indifference. I was busy studying and socializing. My dog and my obligations to her were no longer a priority.

Tammy is the source of profound love and the foundation for my great admiration of this beautiful, loving, forgiving creature, the dog. She is also the source of a deep regret and sadness that I let her down during this very selfish time of my life.

She lived until my early twenties, my husband even got to meet her when we first started dating. I was an apartment dweller by then and she stayed behind at the folks’ place. I lived nearby and visited often and took her for walks. She was always happy and grateful to see me.

In her last years she had problems with her back legs. She had hard times getting up and towards the end, her legs had a tendency to collapse on her. The folks told me it was time to let her go. They couldn’t bear to have her go on like this. What could I say? She was no longer my dog. I’d moved on without her.

My dad and I took her to her lifelong vet. I cried uncontrollably and the vet’s assistant handed me a whole box of tissues. Maybe back then most folks did not stay to comfort their dog. The vet and his staff seemed a bit taken aback that I wanted to be with her. Although, I’m sure they also couldn’t wait to get the crying mess of a girl out of their office. But I knew I had to be there for her and my mind was set. We saw her off to her next journey. It was one of the very rare times I’ve seen my father cry.

This dog came to me when I was a child in elementary school. Her life spanned my Jr. high, high school, college and early working years. She taught me dogs are loyal even when humans are not. She taught me not to take their love and company for granted. Try as they might they can’t live and love forever.

Humbly yours,
Jamaica & Pepper’s humom

Curly

While on a job a professional mover overheard a little girl asking her dad, "Now that we have our own house, Daddy, when are we gonna get a puppy?" That little girl was me and my dad was a U.S. Marine Sergeant moving into his very first long term home. It just so happens that mover's own dog had just had a litter of puppies and he was looking for homes for them.

And so Curly came into our lives for the next 13 or so years. I don't remember going to the mover's house or picking him out. Not sure who thought to name him after a stooge!(probably Dad)

I was told he was a cocker/poodle mix, but now I suspect there was some lhaso in him, too. He was a scruffy, little, black mop of a dog.

He refused to eat dog food. So we kids would pretend to eat biscuits and kibble to get him to eat too and not starve to death. Although my parents are known to be notorious feeders from the table, so I suspect most of his sustanance came from human food. No wonder he didn't like his dog food!

Curly ended up being my mother's dog as often happens. He loved her dearly and followed her everywhere. He loved me and my little brother, too, but often we bugged him and he mostly just tolerated us kids.

He was kind of scared of my dad who was approaching the end of his military career and had a rather stern air about him at that time. But I remember once rough housing with Dad. He was playfully wacking my backside with a phone book and I was laughing. Curly must have thought I was crying, though, and he came up snarling at Dad! We stopped our playing to look at him and he immediately realized his mistake. He went slinking off, head held low. If dogs could blush that would've been one red dog! Of course, he was not reprimanded. My dad actually admired that this little dog would stand up to him for one of the kids. No child abuse allowed in this house! You'd have to answer to Curly!

He was one brave, little, feisty dog. He was not our dog. We were his kids!

Yours in Dogster,
Jamaica & Pepper's humom

Black Beauties

Here at the Rainbow Bridge I have met other black dogs that are waiting fur my peoples. We have barked about our earthly times to each other. I have offered diary space to each of them but instead the humom will be relaying their stories from her own perspective. It just seems best that way. She hopes to do them justice.

I've Got a Secret!

Pepper's got surprise on the way:) As a Rainbow Bridge dog I get to know and not bark! Hee hee!

Rainbow wags,
Jamaica

Back in Black!

I have always had black dogs, from my very first dog as a small child to my current sweetie, Pepper. It was not out of preference or purposeful choice. They were just the dogs fate or God or the universe brought into my life. I sometimes wondered why I always ended up with the black dogs. A little variety would have been nice.

I learned a while back that black dogs have a harder time getting adopted. So Maria's recent blog about it is not news to me. I've loved all my dogs, but somehow knowing they are the underdogs makes me cherish them even more.

Black dogs are now my preference and if the winds of fate see fit to bless me with a lifetime of black dogs I happily embrace that fate!

Yours in Dogster,
Jamaica & Pepper's humom

From Maria's Dogster blog dated 8/15/2011:
The Best Friends Animal Society is hoping to help thousands of black pets find forever homes starting today. During its Back in Black adoption event, which runs from August 15 to September 17, 2011, anyone who adopts a black pet from a participating shelter gets 50 percent off adoption fees. The list of shelters isn’t terribly extensive, but at least it helps get people thinking about the plight of black dogs and cats.

Dogster was Drowsy!

Oh my, Dogster was dragging and drowsy this morning! And on the morning my diary was chosen as The Diary of The Day!

Thank you to Flicka and Redford's families for the nice plaques they made up for me! It seems the picture problem is finally sorted out and they actually show on my page now!

Rainbow wags,
Jamaica

Candle Lighting

Dear furiends Cleo, Flicka, Lucas and Pam let us know about the Sierra's Garden candle lighting tonight. Humum found an angel votive a good friend had given her for Christmas one year. She never used it until today. She found my name tag and put it in the angel's hands. There it belongs and there it will stay.

Our candles were lit at 4:30 west coast time as that coincided with the group lighting. But they were lit again at sunset as well.

The mums in the photos on my page were to celebark Pepper's birthday on the 4th. They will be planted in the garden tomorrow in honor of the heaven and earth angels.

Cleo's Garden and A Candle Lighting

My dear furiend Cleo has a garden begun in her honor by her mum. In this garden will be a clear round glass jar with a lid. In the jar will be glass florists pebbles. On the florist pebbles will be a name for each Fur Angel. The jar will be out in "Cleo's Garden" when Cleo's mum is there. It will shine in the sunlight. My humom is so touched that my name will be on one of those pebbles.

From Cleo's Diary:
On July 23rd at 7:30 P.M.EDT Wyoming's Mum will be having another Canine Cancer Hero Candle Lighting at Sierra's garden in Maine for our heaven and earth angels. They will be lighting each and every stake in Sierra's garden that has our angel's names burned on them, and a healing section of candles for our heroes that are living through the challenges of cancer.

Sadly each year the number of names in the garden grows .....so I'm sure that our angels will have something special planned for that evening.
Every year they seem to show up and give us the gift of their presence.

If everyone can please light a candle at 7:30 PM EST and place it outside so our angels can see our tribute of love for them in all different parts of the world, and a second candle to show our unity for positive thoughts of healing for those battling this disease ....."

Cleo is Dogster 655745. She has more information and some neat links in her diary. Sorry my humom is not smart about links.

Looking forward to seeing all those candles on Saturday and feeling all the love.

Rainbow Wags,
Jamaica