April 23rd 2009 12:46 pm
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Happy Birthday, Smokey boy. It's hard to believe you left us 2 years ago this past Sunday.
It's strange but I can remember the stories with vivid accuracy - of your destruction of the house, christmas tree, piano. Of pushing me down and licking my face when I'd get home from work. Of watching the jets in the pool turn on, or insisting on being squirted in the face by the hose. All this I remember, but I had forgotten those funny noises you made when we scratched your ears. Matt remember, but I'd forgotten them.
Hopefully if we all remember different things, we'll keep reminding each other and then never forget.
May 23rd 2007 10:22 am
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My good pal Dazee has tagged me to play a game!
So here is how the game will go!
Each player starts with 7 random facts about themselves. Dogs who are tagged need to write down in there own diary about 7 random facts and the rules! You need to choose 7 dogs to tag and list there names. Don't forget to leave them a a comment that they have been tagged and to read your dairy! So here is 7 things you may know or don't know about littlt me :o)
1. My ears felt like velvet.
2. I was terrified of thunder storms!
3. I ate anything except grapes - those are like eyeballs! yuck!
4. I looved sticking my head out the car window and feeling the breeze!
5. My daddy shared potato chips with me everytime he got a bag.
6. I once tried to take on an elephant!
7. I once chased down and killed a groundhog.
3. Sheldon (Always Loved)
4. Sweetie -- 3/17/94 - 4/18/07
6. Willey Tucker
Have fun guys!
April 20th 2007 10:40 am
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I thought since you all knew Smokey’s last days that I’d fill in what his first days were like…
My brother called me one day and asked if I wanted to go with him and his girlfriend to get a puppy. I immediately said yes and jumped in his car to drive almost 2 hours to pick one out. We went to a backyard breeder and met the puppies. They were outside (it was a nice day out) in their pen playing. We all agreed on the male dog that was playful but not too crazy. He was a little black pup, covered with dirt and smelling pretty bad. They paid for him and we took off for that long drive back. I sat in the backseat with the puppy in my lap. The poor guy was shaking he was so scared, but after several miles, he calmed down and went to sleep. We talked about names on the way home, and settled on Goose. That evening, my brother took his new puppy to his friend’s house and they dubbed him Smokey. It stuck.
A month later, my brother and his girlfriend parted ways (temporarily) and he moved back home with our parents…puppy Smokey in tow. My parents already had a dog – their female Westie, Boo, who was 4. Smokey was elated to have another dog to play with…Boo, not so much. Smoke’s favorite past-time was to pull on her cheek…he’d do it once and she’d growl at him. Twice and she’d growl louder…three times and CHOMP! he got bit on the nose. Smokey would run, tail between his legs, behind my dad to hide from her. We always laughed at him. Silly puppy didn’t have the sense to learn his lesson: don’t mess with Boo!
Boo learned to hide from Smokey and Smokey got confined to the kitchen during the day, so it wasn’t hard. One entryway to the kitchen had doors, but the other was open, so a baby gate was put up to keep Smokeyboy in. Despite his toys, Smokey would get bored in the kitchen and started looking around. Apparently the wall paper offended Smokey because he started to peel it off. And once he got a piece off he noticed the wall underneath and began to chew away at that. Then, one day, Smokey figured out that he could very easily jump over the baby gate and get out! Imagine my dad’s dismay as he walked in the door after work and came home to see magazines, pictures, piano music torn up, furniture overturned, plants sprayed all over the place. He ran to the phone to call the police to report a break in when a little black head popped around the corner. He knew what happened then. Hurricane Smokey had hit.
That year Smokey ate: the wallpaper, the wall, countless magazines, piano music, and pictures, the piano, Christmas tree ornaments. He also managed to get a stick crammed up his nose. Dad would call and relay the latest Smokey disaster with a wry sense of humor and acceptance. Shortly after the Hurricane Smokey event, Smokey saw the light and changed his ways – from then on he would be a good boy! And a good boy he was.
He and Boo came to terms – as long as she was Alpha, Smokey could stay. It became apparent that he was good for Boo. They’d have chases around the pool and would have “stare downs” all the time. We never knew who won, but the two always had a blast.
Smokey became my dad’s constant companion – his shadow. He’d go everywhere with him. They played fetch constantly – to the point that my dad developed tennis elbow! Smokey would get so excited to fetch that he’d bark and bark until you threw the ball for him. He’d bring it back and start the whole process over, but sometimes he’d forget to put the ball down before barking at you. So he’d be barking at you to throw the ball that he wouldn’t let go. He always was goofy.
My first year out of college, I lived at home. Every day I’d come home and Smokey would push Boo out of the way to greet me (he NEVER grew out of that) and then would push me on the floor and step on my hair so I could not get up…and then lick every speck of makeup off my face.
Smokey’s favorite summer pastime was the pool. He was avid swimmer and he looked at the pool as HIS. If a leaf fell in his pool, he’d go fish it out. One day a bunny fell in the pool, so Smokey did his duty as pool guardian and fished the bunny out. He’d let us in his pool, but only if we kept our heads above water. If we went under water, he would pace back and forth worriedly until our heads poked back up. And if we were close enough to the wall, we’d be welcomed to the surface with a big slobbery Lab kiss. Every year, my dad and Smokey would race in the pool and every year, Smokey won. Dad tried to cheat by grabbing on to Smokey’s tail, but Smoke was the undeniable winner.
One summer, my mom decided that SuperSoakers would be fun to play around with, so she picked them up. At some point, while playing with them, Smokey got caught in the cross-fire. And loved it! From that point on, summer means swimming and squirting! He’d grab the squirt gun and drop it at your feet so you could fill it up and squirt him.
One day last year my dad got the idea that Smokey should become a Therapy Dog. Smokey took to the training like a Lab to water. He did much better than many of the younger dogs and impressed the staff. He loved visiting the rehab centers and retirement homes – what’s not to love, he got lavished with attention!
You all know the story from here. Thanks for all the prayers and thoughts for Smoke and our family. We had almost 10 wonderful, funny and sometimes destructive years with Smokey. I’m glad I could share them with you.