Well, I was living with my mother during her last illness at the time he was put to sleep, and my sister was also living with us.  He was basically her dog. They got him when he was two years old from a couple who'd just had a baby and was nervous about him slobbering all over it.  He was a very affectionate dog and would lick anyone who petted him, and ate just about anything within reach, they quickly found out.  The morning after we got him, my dad took him out to get the paper and put it in Crosby's mouth, and Crosby dropped it and peed on it.  Dad said he knew then and there he'd like the dog because they shared the same opinion of the local paper.

He was put to sleep a couple of months before my mom died, in 1999.  After my mom died and I moved back out, I took her cat with me and the 10-year odl feline is still with me. :-)

Kat


On Mon, 22 Apr 2002 11:09:23 -0400 "Cleveland, Kyle E." <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

Thanks, Kat.  I have an MRI and a visit with my surgeon buddy this Friday.
I can feel the bone "knitting", which is a good sign.  That area of the
wrist is dry as toast with respect to blood-flow, so healing can be arduous.
We had a brithday party for the three kids, my mother-in-law and
brother-in-law this weekend.  Their b-days are all within a month, so it's
easier to kill five birds than one with one stone.  Still, the rib has no
gas even a year after chemo--and she was adamant that the house be clean for
this gig.  Makes no sense to me, as everyone who was at the party has seen
our house when it's trashed (with two small kids, that's most of the time),
but I worked all day anyway.  The wrist was really thumping when it was all
said and done, I'll tell ya.  :-)

I'm not an "animal lover", per se, but when I put down my lab it was like
shooting my best friend.  I lived in the country, WAY in the country, at the
time.  There were no vets in the area beside the local cow doc, and he
didn't do dogs, so I had to shoot him myself.  I knew enough about canine
anatomy, and had butchered enough barnyard animals to be confident in my
shot placement.  Still, he wagged his tail for a second or two after he was
gone--that really tore me up!  I know it was just an autonomic response to
his CNS system shutting down, yet it seemed like it was his way of saying,
"thanks for taking care of my pain, and what you are doing is cool with me."
Dag!  What a heart-breaker!  I couldn't bring myself to get another dog for
many years after.  If Laura goes before I do, though, I probably will get
another lab.  Pets allow you to love, and they dig you back
unconditionally--a real plus, sometimes, eh?

So did you get your Golden whenhe was a pup?  How old were you when you got
him?  Almost all of the retriever breeds  just live to please, so they
usually have wonderful personalities.  That had to be a rugged time for you,
Kat.  There seems to be a goodly number of folks on this this who are quite
attached to their dogs/cats/whatever.  There must be something to be said
for the therapeutic value  of pet ownership.

So, did the CG rescue the tanker captain's pup yet?

-Kyle