And now let’s break into some stories about a few of the dogs I grew up with. Throughout the years we had approximately six dogs…not all at the same time, of course. A few of them managed to contract strange diseases and ailments.
We’ll start with Diamond, a German Shorthair Pointer that went hunting with my dad. He was a playful dog, and always seemed to quiver with excitement. He got a disease called polyradiculoneuritis or “coonhound paralysis” that is contracted by a raccoon bite. The poor creature was paralyzed from the neck down for about 8 weeks and had to be fed and bathed on a daily basis by my mother. He couldn’t move to go to the bathroom so he went on himself, and he couldn’t lift his head enough to eat…poor dog. I was always embarrassed when my friends came over…
They would be like, “Why is your dog just laying there in that pen filled with hay.”
I would say, “Oh, um, he’s just tired. No big deal. Let’s go jump on the trampoline.”
Eventually they would ask more questions and I would have to explain about the coonhound paralysis. What a freak disease.
With proper care he made it through, though. He was just as quivery and excited as ever.
And then there was Molly, a black lab I had since she was a puppy. Molly contracted some sort of flesh eating disease, that is apparently common with labs. She was very, very old when she got it, but it just another embarrassing ailment I would have to explain to my friends…
“Why is there no skin on your dog’s leg?” they would ask.
I could think of no good cover-up, so I would just flat out tell them “Flesh eating disease…don’t worry, it’s not contagious.”
Unfortunately she had to have her leg amputated. She was still a positive, sweet dog.
[Side Note: This is not the only 3-legged pet we had…but we’ll get into that in another post.]
At one point we had a dog named Precious that we had rescued from the side of the road. That dog was friggin’ evil. She was a little miniature mix of poodle and something else, and would snap at everything and anyone. She was the kind of dog that would terrorize the mailman. Her only problem was that she was a real bitch.
Chunk, another black lab, ate something weird he rummaged up from the farm next door and passed away from food poisoning. My older sister was devastated, and demanded that he be given a proper burial on our property. We got a coffin and everything. Which started the trend of burying animals on our property.
Animals Buried on Our Property:
1 gerbil
3 dogs
Honeybee, our beloved first pony (yes, a horse is buried in our pasture)
A couple hermit crabs (damn Ocean City boardwalk shops)
The ashes of 1 cat
It’s a friggin’ pet cemetery. We never told the people who live there now. Oops.
3 comments:
I don't know where to start...
1) What do you mean approximately 4 hamsters? Did you bury hamster parts that would cound as ½ or ¼?
2) The largest problem with Precious is that she was part poodle.
3) Who named the dog Chunk?
One day I'll pen the story of the gerbil genocide that happened in my basement. That was incredible.
First of all Diamond was a female dog. Second, don't forget about Buffy(the freaky lab, poodle, and some other breed offspring of Precious) that somehow got shot in the leg and hobbled around for a few months wearing a cast. Finally...don't forget about a couple goldfish that we buried. Also how did you calculate how many hamsters we buried?
i-66: I say approximately because honestly I can't remember how many hamsters we actually ended up burying in our yard. My older sister named the dog Chunk. Awesome friggin' name, huh?
As soon as you post gerbil genocide let me know...it sounds like it could rival my pet stories.
Sistah Girl: Its my blog and I do what I want...and yeah I forgot about Buffy, hot damn. And the friggin' gold fish. And as for the hamsters, see answer to I-66.
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