Dogster

return to top

Ripley's Ramblings

Birthday!

This is what Dad said about me on my birthday today, to the Richardson Humane Society, where he and Mom adopted me. I'm glad they did. Happy Birthday to me!


Ripley turns nine today! Happy Birthday, Ripley!

Virginia and I met Ripley at one of the very first Richardson Humane Society garage sales. It was before the crack of dawn, and I saw him in a playpen and I told his Mom "Hey, my dog is over there!" Sometimes, you know right away when you're going to add a new member to the family. I did.

My sister-in-law asked later if we had noticed the stubby, strange-looking little dog that was tearing up the pillow in his playpen at the garage sale. She was horrified to find out he had a new home. With us. She's come around over the years.

(We really should get the skirting on the couch replaced one of these days. After that, we could get the hole in the dining room table leg patched. Ripley doesn't tear things up as much any more.)

Ripley's Mom wasn't so sure Ripley was supposed to be our dog, so she agreed to "foster" him. Our fostering lasted approximately until we got him into our car while picking him up from his previous foster's home. He had just met Bubba, our neurotic Cocker, and they got along. Ripley even let Bubba think he was alpha. I figured even if she ever decided against adoption, once Ripley was in the house, I could barricade him in (or just lock her out.)

With Ripley, we didn't really add him to the family, he belonged here. I knew it as soon as I saw him. His Mom had to be convinced, but it didn't take very long. Of course, he's her dog now (that's gratitude!)

He's survived other siblings joining the family over the years, and he's been very tolerant of them.

He's also survived two back surgeries, and he now remembers to use his ramps most of the time to get on and off the couches and the bed.

Surprisingly, the back surgeries were not the most life-threatening incident he's survived. One Christmas Day, as his Mom was trying to prepare dinner (no stress) for her family (no stress) and my family (no stress), she let the dogs out to do their business, and Ripley stayed behind when the others came in. When she noticed he was missing, she went out in the back yard and found him in the flower bed, digging to China. He had made good progress in the short time he was out there. He's a very good digger, especially in mud. Suddenly, he was MY dog. After I got all the mud off of him, and a couple of vodka martinis in his Mom, peace was restored.

Ripley is the reason we found Sparky (who was another quirky dog from the Graham shelter, and the namesake of Sparky's Pals) and the reason we tried to adopt Max (RIP) and now have Katie (both PBGV mixes, like Ripley.)

Ripley is the only dog we've ever had that has people in line to save him in case anything ever happens to us. I'm not sure if that says something about Ripley, or about our other dogs, but it's his day, so I'm assuming it's that people are automatically drawn to him. Except his Mom. But she came around. And now, he's her dog.

Ripley still lets Bubba think he's alpha. He even lets his Mom think she's alpha. He's pretty sure I'm not alpha, but I am allowed to give him treats. In fact, I just got hit in the back of the leg with a nose, so I'm pretty sure I'm late with the treat delivery.

Thanks again to RHS and to all his fosters for keeping Ripley safe until he found us!

I'm free

Dad's working at home and Mom is gone a lot since Grandma is in the hospital, so I've finally been able to stay out of my crate for a while. It's much more fun to sleep on the rug than on my pillow in my crate!

I've decided that "stubborn" must mean someone who does what he wants, because Mom says I'm stubborn every time I don't do what she wants. It's been so long since I arrived, you would think she would know that she's not in charge of me.

Dad should be looking for me soon, so I better wrap this up. It's time to see how many cookies I can get out of him before I actually go in my crate.

Still resting in my crate

I'm still on crate rest. I'm sorta hoping Mom forgets she can take me off, because it's comfy in here. Not as good as on the bed, but pretty comfy, anyway. Plus, I get to stay on the bed for a while almost every night since I think Mom feels guilty! It's pretty sweet.

I visited my brother Max' page today. I never got to meet him because he crossed the Bridge before he could ever get home. Dad said he was a really good dog. I'm sure I'll see him someday. I left him a star.