I have had so many dogs throughout my life I wanted this post to be a tribute to them. My first was a puppy I had as a small girl, for a very short time. Her name was Princess. She was a beagle puppy. Unfortunately I believe she only lived a couple months, and died full of worms. (Things were so different with pets back in the early 50's.) This is me with Princess.
When I was a teenager I managed to aquire an AKC harlequin standard poodle who I name appropriately, Cheri Antointette the VI. I had her for a couple years till I went away to school for a year, and my parents did not want to take care of my dog for me, and I had to give her away. She was the cause of my having another standard poodle later in life. I loved the breed.
My next dog was a Purple Ribbon bred UKC Bluetick Coonhound puppy, courtesy of my sister. We named her Pollock's Blue Sparkle. She was a very sweet natured dog who accidentally got "caught" by some male from the neighborhood, and a litter of 16 (YES..... 16!!!) pups ensued! Some did not live and the rest we gave away. That poor girl had a very bad case of fleas, and developed some skin problems with that. I think her end might have been met on the road in front of my house. (My memory is not what it used to be, but I think that was the case.) This is my youngest with Sparkle.
She was followed by my first AKC great dane. His name befitted his stature, Parris of Valhalla. He lived only 5 years and we did have some problems with him as when he was young we had him chained to a cable run (when he was out, not a permanent place at all) and one of the neighbor boys used to come and tease him with a stick. So biting problems did ensue when he was chained out. He was however a great watchdog and a gentle giant with our family. He was also a constant companion on trips in our motorhome. He was buried in a spot behind a the house we were living in at the time. Her again with Parris.
When he died he was replaced by another great dane, a harlequin, paperless but none the less a full breed, whom we named Shana. Shana was a fantastic dog. Very friendly and would lick someone to death rather than ever bite them! She briefly had a silver afghan hound companion (Steele) given to me by my oldest daughter and her friend who was rescued from an SPCA. He also was a sweet temperment. He was a couch cuddler... three weeks later he also met his demise on the road by the house when my ex "accidentally" let him out without being chained. (I was never sure it was a complete accident because we were "on the outs" at the time... I hope it was.) One time the two dogs had chewed up my oldest daughter's favorite stuffed frog, and I told the dogs I did not know which of them had thought of it, but I knew they were both in deep doo doo for doing it! Shana lived to be 8 1/2 yrs old. A good age for a large dog. She gradually got weak and had to be carried outside to do her business. Heartbroken, I made my husband (new one at this point) take her to the SPCA to be put to sleep. I could not go along.
Then along came Andy. My second standard poodle. ACK registered, we named him Sunshine Prince Andrew. He was an apricot color (see pic) and hence the "sunshine" in his name. He only had a problem with biting once, and it was for good cause. When he was a puppy he was having a bout with worms. My husband had been polishing his boots for the next National Guard weekend and Andy had a problem with diahrea because of the worms, so hubby decided to take him outside and wash his butt with the garden hose. Andy turned around and bit him. I chuckled when I heard and told him if he'd done that to me I'd have bitten him too! However we did keep a close eye on that relationship (hubby and dog) because I did not want another biting dog. They did however make peace, and even though Andy became "my dog" after that, he and hubby got along fine. Baths were done by me in the tub or a groomer after that. Andy got sick in 2005 and by Sept. I knew that something had to be done. This time I went when we took him to a vet in PA to be put to sleep. I still could not go in with him, but did have to make that very hard decision. It was his last trip to PA with us. He was 12 1/2 yrs old, and was always a perfect gentleman of a dog. Never chewed (unlike the danes) and was always so sweet a dog. I took his loss very hard. I swore I would never put myself through the loss again, never have another dog. He was survived by my cat Misty (who had been through both Shand and Andy) and I had to deal with losing her this past January.
For all my intentions of not having pets again, enter into the picture, MaggieMae the end of Feb. (See first post on this blog.) But this is a tribute to dogs past. They were all deeply loved.