fur quartet

I'm getting sentimental about my dogs today. Partly because Oscar peed on the bed last night. Not his fault. I picked him up, as I always do, to put him on the bed when I am there because otherwise he clip clops in to the bedroom, stands looking longingly upwards - he can't jump up anymore as his back legs are a little shaky - and starts this pathetic whine because he thinks I don't know he is down there. If I ignore it, the whine and drone becomes more insistent and more pathetic. So, even though I wasn't actually heading to bed, but just looking at some color chips because as is my obsession I hafta paint my bedroom walls every year, I picked him up and dropped him gently on the bed. And then left the room. Ooops.

Oscar is a fuckin' miracle at 18. That's all there is to it.

Frankie is becoming the sweet border collie I always dreamed of having. He turns 13 in October, and is animatedly talking about his birthday party. He has booked a band and was looking at catering brochures last night. I am not sure when to tell him that I will be in London, at a lesbian wedding of all things (since I don't believe in marriage) on his actual birthday. Mind you, Susie and Bonnie will be here at my house with their dog Mars Bar, and they'll make sure Frank celebrates in good fashion. He may have to scale back his plans. Frank has been cranky all his life, but since Roxy died last year, he is really becoming sweet. It makes me sad in a way.

Calvin, of indeterminate age, but probably around 11 or 12 is the kind of dog you fantasise about having - he loves everyone and every creature, but would probably chew the testicles off someone if they tried to break into my house. He has had two knee surgeries but never stops running when he's at the park, never stops stealing balls from other dogs and loves the chase - the one where an irate human is following him while yelling at me 'your dog has my ball'. He is Roo's best friend, which is one more reason to totally adore him.

Roo is 5 now. She was chained up, I kid you not, outside the animal shelter at night. At 12 pounds she is a tad overweight. But she carries it well. Wish I could say the same for me. Roo was my gift to myself when I turned 50. I figured every middle aged woman needed a small dog. I never realised quite what a huge dog a small dog could be. When she was almost killed by another dog on Easter Sunday 2006, it had a profound effect on both of us. Roo follows me from my bed to the sofa to the spare room at night when I can't sleep. Along with Slim the delinquent cat. During the daytimes she seems far more independent, but at night she seems to need the reassurance.

They are my good buddies. Each day I think could be the last for Oscar. But it could be any of the others. It doesn't really matter who or when. What matters is that every day I make the effort to remind myself - and them - just how astonishing it is that this species and mine co-exist.

Comments

[Cheryl]

Tegan turned 15 on the 23rd August...and apart from the deafness and the uncontrollable dribbles she is as energetic and excitable as ever (especially when she spots a ball!) I feel honoured to have shared these years with her and look optimisticly forward to many many more!

[Jill]

Aw Cheryl, that is great. I remember when you first got her. She was such a kooky ball fixated border collie....beautiful blue merle girl that she is...

[Deborah]

Diamond girl will be 7 in a couple of weeks. At nearly 20 lbs (according to daughter) she's a tad more than a tad overweight.
we're working on that. She's feisty and loves her soccerball and to harrass the cats.

I am seeing what I missed all these years just having children to raise. ;)

[Deb momentarily in SF]

Awwww, I love those photos. Give them all a scratch and a pet from me.

[Deb about ready to leave SF]

YAY! I got to meet all the doggies and kitties in person. They are wonderful. :-)