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Likes: Walking the backyard perimeter
Pet-Peeves: When the cats steal my bed!
Favorite Food: gimme a nice raw steak!
Arrival Story: Travis used to live on a ranch with 5 other dogs, and a menagerie of horses, emus, sheep, ducks, chickens, rabbits, cats, doves, & a houseful of parrots and other birds. He had a full and exciting lifestyle.
Unfortunately, when he was about 16, his mom had to move away from the ranch, and the place she was moving to didn't have enough room for him. So his mom's daughter (that'd be me) offered to bring him to the Las Vegas suburbs to retire with her own little menagerie of cats & a dog.
Forums Motto: Wings make dodging emu feet much easier.
The Groups I'm In: Rainbow Bridge Angel Babies, Schnauzers Rule
The Last Forum I Posted In: Pet Farwell
Ol' Man Travis is an amazing little survivor. He's got a severe heart murmur which has made his heart ginormous for his size. You can even feel the squishy swish through his ribcage! At age 17 he had 18 teeth pulled. At age 18, he had a toe removed because of cancer (the vet was sure it would come back within a few months... ha!). At age 19 he had a benign surface tumor removed. He's partially deaf and so blind he can only see about 5 feet in front of him (sometimes imitating a Rumba Vac.). Of course, he's taking meds for severe arthritis as would be expected. Ol' Man Travis certainly has his good days and bad days as age keeps creeping up on him. Nevertheless, every morning & evening he is up and ready to go out to the backyard and walk (more like skip) around the perimeter. Once he's taken care of business and made sure all is well in his territory, he's ready to trot back in for his meals. We're not sure how much longer he plans on sticking around, but for the meantime he's got a pretty cushy retirement here.
On January 3, 2010 at sunset, Travis crossed the bridge to join his original "ranch pack". He was 20 years old. Though still strong in spirit, his poor ol' body could not keep up with him. His kidneys began to fail, and he simply lost too much muscle mass. Despite all his troubles, Travis never turned into a grumpy ol man, but instead maintained a sweet, gentle and dignified temperament through it all. He will be much missed.
It's been a little over a week since I crossed the bridge, and I've noticed you still have some funny little habits, Mom.
There's that automatic glance around the backyard to check if I'm stuck in some corner or under a chair or behind the BBQ grill.
Yes, I know the dog a few streets down yelps like I used to when I would get really stuck somewhere. Try not to let it get to you, he's not really hurt, he just has a little anxiety. His parents are doing their best for him.
I saw you start out of your chair the other day when you heard bumps against the furniture downstairs... it was just the cat-monsters having a game of hide 'n' seek. I'd reprimand them for ya, but you know they don't listen to anyone.
Just yesterday, when you were collecting bowls for breakfast, you bent halfway down to pick up mine for filling. Maybe it's time to pick it up and put it away now.
You're still leaving lights on at night. You know, I can see perfectly well now, you can save the electricity if you want. You can turn the heat down a notch too, if you want... I'm not going to catch a chill from the floor anymore.
I know these are little things that say you miss me, and that's okay. I'm glad, though, that you're also making small moves to keep your own life going.
That little hike with your friends was a good idea. I saw you watching the moths chasing each other at the top of the mountain.
Also, I like that you're looking into that Shakespeare workshop. You need to practice your craft again, now that you don't have to worry about me so much.
These are good things. Things that will make you happy. I want to see you happy again. No more worrying about me, I'm doing just fine here across the rainbow.
Yes, Mom, you can throw away my pain pills, I don't need them anymore.
Don't cry, I'm spry as a pup again; running with the old ranch pack, and dodging giant Emu feet.
Yes, you can throw away the supplements too. They were helpful for a time, and I thank you for searching every option to make me comfortable through those last months.
Don't cry, I don't blame you for the failing of my body; all bodies fail eventually. I know that you will keep the memory of my spirit close to your heart.
Please don't let the cats have my blanket! You know how I feel about those mischievous monsters (though Belle wasn't really too bad). I think fursis Babee would appreciate it.
I see your watery eyes, but it's okay. The Big Dog here tells me you humans are silly that way. Just remember this little poem when you think of me:
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there:
I did not die.
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