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One more moment…

Punky, Boomer, and Payton




Smokey, I wish that one more time I could bring you up from your pen and put you under the big Bradford Pear tree and give you some loving.  I know you loved that softball; I’d toss it for you to grab and chew on and then you would wait for it to be tossed again.  Once more I’d love to see Cindy or Ali sit beside you and brush your hair, you loved the attention.  I wish that one more time we could scratch your head and see your loving eyes showing your appreciation.  Your gentle kind nature made you so easy to love.

Payton, I wish that one more time I could take you meat scraps and feed them to you.  I remember coming home from work late at night and seeing your glowing eyes looking up the driveway, hoping I would come pet you.  Did I ever let you down? No I didn’t, and just one more time of walking to your pen in the darkness and greeting you with some loving knowing you would rather give love than receive it.  One more game of keep away with the ball or Frisbee; Cindy, you, and me playing the game you loved.  Your short life will be long lived in our hearts.

Punky, one more game of chase would do my heart wonders.  How you loved for someone to kick that little ball for you to chase.  You would run and get it and bring it back and drop it at our feet.  And then your intent little eyes watching that ball until someone would kick it for you to chase again, if I could have just one more kick at that ball.  One more view of you walking directly behind Cindy following her through the house, how you loved your Mommy, would make me smile.  One more view of you racing out the back door barking but trying to stop yourself on the concrete before you reached the grass would bring us joy.

Boomer, one more experience of trying to find you as we are getting ready to leave, not knowing where you are, I would cherish doing that.  Saying the word fire and watching your antics would bring a grin to our face.  To be able to watch you race the other dogs out the door and across the yard to see who can get to the far corner first, just once more.  Or how about bed time, allowing you on the bed only to have you nudge your nose under the covers and make your way down beside my body, how I miss that.  One more moment of you snuggling in our laps soaking up some love, returning your unconditional love, just one more moment.

As I wipe the tears from my cheeks my memories of you all will always and forever fill my heart.  You each have brought us your own special love filled personalities and left us with those special memories.  As the four of you tumble and play together in Doggie Heaven I trust you reflect on us and the special things we did to bring you joy during your lives.  If we could have just one more moment…..


No more collars

This story could perhaps save your dog’s life.  It has changed one major thing we do with our dogs.  It’s a very frightening story but needs to be told.  So here goes.

At this point, just a few short months ago we had 5 dogs.  Sadie, Bailey, Chief, Boomer, and Asia were residents at the dinner table each night.  However, on this day we almost lost one of our chow hounds.  It was late afternoon and Cindy had put the dogs out into the fenced back yard for their afternoon potty and play time.  It is so nice having the yard fenced in where the dogs can run and play without fear of them running off, or digging up the neighbors flowers, or chasing the deer that appear out back.  This afternoon I was in my office working and Cindy was in the kitchen doing what she does so faithfully and so well.  I was on the phone discussing a technical matter with a fellow employee who had called in for assistance.  I was using my Bluetooth headset with my cell phone sitting next to my computer.  This gives me the ability to be somewhat mobile.  Suddenly I heard what sounded like dogs scrapping or fighting.  Within seconds I heard Cindy screaming, “Help Help DAVID COME HELP”.  I tell the person I am talking to, “Please hang on a second and I’ll be right back”.  But I neglected to remove my headset.  I run to the back door and I see what appears to be Chief and Bailey in a struggle.   Chief is about 6 months old and full of energy and spunk.  He is one-hundred percent puppy but bigger than Bailey.  And Bailey is a larger version of a Beagle, lower to the ground than Chief is but she is heavier than Chief.  Chief loves to play the “jump on your back and bite your neck” game with the other dogs.  And that is basically what it looked like at first glance as I ran out the back door.  However, the sound that Chief and Bailey were making made it very clear that this was not a game being played.  I now could tell that Chief was yelping in pain and Bailey was attempting to growl in a self defense sound, but somewhat muffled.  I still didn’t understand what was happening and I was about 2 feet away at this point.  Cindy was already over the dogs screaming for help.  My first impressing was that Chief had Bailey by the back of the neck in a death bite and Bailey screaming and growling in pain.  Cindy had already figured out what had happened and was telling me but my senses were trying to absorb everything in that first few seconds, which seemed like an eternity, and I didn’t really comprehend what she was telling me.  I grabbed Chief, the Australian Sheppard and Lab mix, and pulling him off of Bailey and Cindy yelled at me, “STOP STOP THEY ARE TANGLED UP”.  As she said that I now was able to see what had happened.  What I saw scared the living daylights out of me at first, and then my mind began racing for a solution.  Cindy yelled, “I’m going inside for scissors”, and I understood why.  Now keep in mind this is all occurring in a matter of seconds.  If it was a video it would be 7 or 8 seconds from the time I exited the door to the resolution.  But it seemed like 5 minutes.  I looked at Bailey and she was unable to breath and her eyes were bulging and she was trying to yelp and growl and I knew this was far more serious that it appeared.  I saw Bailey’s collar wrapped around Chief’s lower jaw which pulled it far too tight around Bailey’s neck and was strangling her.  Chief was yelping in pain as he was trying to back away from Bailey.  And Bailey was suffocating as she was trying to pull away from Chief.  Cindy later recounted to me that she heard these sounds coming from the back yard and they got louder because the dogs were moving toward the house.  She heard some banging as the dogs made their way up to the patio furniture and banged up against the house.  That is when she looked out and saw what was going on and yelled to me for help.  Thank the Lord I was home that afternoon or we very well could have been a dog short at dinner that evening.  So the two dogs got tangled up out in the yard and Bailey drug the both of them up toward the house.  Now, back to the rescue that was turning very dire.  I knew Chief was in danger of having a broken jaw or severed tongue, and Bailey was close to losing consciousness, and Cindy was coming back with scissors.  I didn’t see any way we would be able to get the scissors into position to make a cut on the collar because it was far too tight and both dogs were moving.  I reached for the plastic buckle on the collar.  I am so glad that the collar Bailey was wearing had the plastic snap together buckle and not the typical belt buckle style with the little pin that has to go through the hole and then pull it tight.  I attempted to squeeze that snap to release the collar but the snap portion was pulled so tight I couldn’t get it squeezed together enough to release the tension.  By this time Cindy was back with the scissors.  She was only gone maybe 5 seconds as the scissors were not that far away in the house and she made good time running to get them.  Suddenly on my third or fourth attempt the snap released and Bailey went one way and Chief the other.  Now did I mention that during all this commotion that the other dogs had to have their input into the situation?  Sadie was right there believing she could help, and Boomer and Asia wanted to lend their assistance as well.  We got the two dogs calmed down and examined them, no physical damage to Bailey that we could tell but we knew we had to watch her for the next hour or so to see how she acted.  Chief did not appear to have any tongue or jaw damage.  Thinking back on how this happened, Chief was playing with Bailey and had grabbed her collar in his mouth and then twisted himself, or jumped across Bailey, which caused the collar to wrap around his lower jaw pulling the collar so tight it now locked the two dogs together.  From that day onward, no more collars on the dogs.  Everyone survived and everyone is happy and everyone still runs to the kitchen when they smell the wonderful aromas that my wife is able to produce in the kitchen.  And they still sit beside us when we eat.  And that night, if I remember, there were a few more handouts given to the dogs than normally are.  Oh, did I mention, my Bluetooth was on that whole time, I don’t know how much the person on the other end of the phone heard, and I hope he doesn’t have nightmares about what he heard, but I haven’t spoken to that person again to be able to apologize.  At some point during the rescue he had hung up the phone.

So, if you have collars on your dogs, have you considered what that collar may become tangled up in?  I have another collar story from a few years ago I’ll share in another story, but it is more of the funny sort. 

Pop Goes the Yorkie


After becoming a member of my new family back in 2001, we were a 2 dog family.  There was Smokey the big dog, and Punky the small dog.  The small dog went by various names, the Punks, Punkin, Punky, you get the idea.  As I blended into the family I noticed something that Punky was always afraid of, popping, snapping, or sudden loud noises.  If chewing a piece of gum and you snapped it Punky would begin shivering and seeking some form of refuge, away from the person chewing the gum, usually in his Mommies lap.  He hated it when you snapped gum, or blew bubbles followed by the pop sound.  These noises usually also produced non stop barking.  One day I asked Cindy why he was like this and she explained it to me.

Punky became a member of Cindy’s family around the first of July about 2 years before I did.  He was just a small little black ball of fur.  On July 4th the family decided they would eat dinner outside that evening, moving the picnic table out under the large pine tree.  Robby, Cindy’s son, had obtained some little poppers for his amusement.  After dinner Robby began setting off his little poppers.  Now to you and me those poppers are small and harmless, to a 13 year old they were a stepping stone to firecrackers, but to a little puppy Yorkie, not so small and not so harmless.  Now add to the mix those mean individuals in the area that set off firecrackers, M-80s, and so on, a little puppy Yorkie would naturally think the world is coming to an end, or that we were under assault by tomcats from outer space.  Cindy said she got up from the picnic table and began making the long walk back up to the house and here came Punky right behind her.  He was hopping as fast as he could, trying to keep pace with his Mommy, which he couldn’t do because he was so small.  Cindy stopped and allowed him to catch up and picked him up.  She said he was shaking and quivering, scared to death of the popping sound.  That first Fourth of July, for Punky, established a lifelong emotional scar and fear of the dreaded popping sound.  The rest of the evening Punky shook uncontrollably every time he heard a firecracker or firework deployed in the neighborhood.  Cindy tried her best to comfort and calm the Punks, but he had keen ears, and there was no way to mute out or muffle the sounds.

After Cindy finished explaining to me why Punky reacted the way he did, I fully understood.  So for the rest of Punk’s life anytime someone would snap their finger, chew gum, drop something on the floor, you get the idea, he would begin barking, shaking, quivering and naturally seeking out his Mommies lap for comfort.  The Fourth of July and New Year’s Eve were the two worst days of the year for Punky.  He would always begin barking at the first firecracker sound, and he wouldn’t stop.  He hated those days.  Sometimes you could almost hear the shaking in his bark.  Even if holding him and attempting to comfort him he would shake uncontrollably and bark at that wicked sound.  Other things produced the same reaction with Punky.  Take for example the wicked fly swatter, he hated the fly swatter.  If there was a fly in the house and someone would just reach for the fly swatter Punky would begin barking at the person with the fly swatter.  After the swing of the swatter and the snap sound it would make Punky would attempt to overcome his fear by demonstrating his disapproval by lunging toward the swatter and barking.  He also knew if you were chewing gum, and sometimes without even snapping the gum he would bark at you informing you that he would take that gum from you and dispose of it in some fashion.  And please, never embrace your spouse and give them a love swat on the butt, Punky would bark and bark, informing you that this was unacceptable behavior in HIS house.  Of course, it was usually me, in this circumstance, receiving the disapproval.  Adjusting your underwear and snapping the elastic, definite no no.  Punky was very keen, and in these situations he knew what was coming and attempted to be pro-active.  But catch him off guard, shaking and quivering followed by seeking out shelter and a safe haven.  And at the dinner table, he did not like the sound of the utensils against the plates.  He would be patient in case you wanted to offer him something to eat, but he usually would not take it off the fork himself, as it was a wicked instrument used to create that awful noise he hated.  We miss you Punky, and I’m sorry for snapping my underwear, but not for giving your Mommy love swats on the behind.

The Great Escape

My name is Boomer

Many years ago we used to frequent the local Dairy Queen.  We would typically go on a summer evening for a cool refreshing treat.  Cindy enjoyed the waffle cones and I would usually get a blizzard of some flavor.  Well, one evening we decided we wanted to go get a Dairy Queen.  Boomer loved going for car rides.  Before I continue I must tell you that Boomer is not your average dog.  You’ll see some dogs riding with their masters in the car and they have their head out the window with their tongue flapping in the wind.  Other dogs will be sitting in their masters lap watching the scenery go by.  Other dogs will sit quietly in the seat and occasionally pop their head up and look out the window.  Boomer on the other hand would get so excited and spastic when he took a car ride.  He was like a hamster on the spinning wheel.  He had to look out every window in turn and visit every individual in the car, and make that sequence repeatedly.  He couldn’t just sit still and enjoy the ride.  So needless to say he didn’t get to take as many car rides as he wished he could.  So, you get the idea.  Ok, back to the trip to Dairy Queen.  This particular evening we decided we’d torture ourselves and take Boomer with us to the Dairy Queen.  So the 3 of us got into the vehicle, a smaller sized SUV, and off we go.  And as usually Boomer began his antics, afraid he was going to miss something he began his window running.  Driver side rear window check, passenger side rear window check, over the back seat rear window check, up front with Mommy window check, Daddy window check, “Boomer NO, get in the back, you can’t be in Daddy’s lap when he is driving”.  Back into the back seat driver side rear window check… you get the idea.  Thank goodness it was only a short drive, perhaps 5 minutes, to the Dairy Queen.  “Cindy, was this your idea to bring Boomer along?”  She responded, “You know he loves to come on car rides with us.”  “Yes, but why can’t he just be normal.  Boomer, GET DOWN!”  Finally he settles in just a little bit and spends more than 2 seconds looking out the rear passenger side window.  Then to the other window, then back to the other side, back and forth.  You could almost see the path on the back seat between the two windows.  Anyway, we get close to the Dairy Queen, and enter through the rear entrance of a parking lot of a strip shopping center to be able to circle around through the parking lot and enter the Dairy Queen’s lot.  We were conversing about the day’s events, or future events, I don’t really recall what the conversation was when suddenly Cindy said, “Boomer sure is quiet”.  She turned around to look and Boomer had magically disappeared!  “DAVE, BOOMER IS GONE” she yelled out.  I looked into the back seat and sure enough he is gone.  Panic sets in, thinking, what in the world has happened.  I happened to glance in the rear view mirror and I don’t believe what I see, there is Boomer behind us a good ways on the parking lot kind of shaking his head.  I glance at the passenger rear window and it is down, and I yell to Cindy, “Boomer jumped out of the WINDOW”.  We were not going too fast as we were in a parking lot.  But to a small dog 15MPH out of a window of a moving vehicle down to concrete, well that couldn’t be good.  The one trip we make without checking the rear window lock feature installed on the driver side window control panel just because of Boomer could turn out to be the end of Boomer, I thought.  Now keep in mind all of this is occurring in the matter of 2 seconds.  I slam on the brakes and Cindy throws open her door intent on getting to Boomer before another vehicle heads in his direction.  By this time Boomer is up and running so I think to myself either he is on an adrenalin rush and his injuries are not evident yet, or Boomer has just used up the 5th of his 9 lives he inherited from one of cats we used to own.  As Cindy is running to get Boomer he is running to the vehicle.  At this point I am remembering all the times Boomer had escaped out the door at the house and when he would do that it was off to the races time, no telling which direction he would go and how far we would have to go to attempt to catch him, he was like a wild rabbit (stories for future blogs noted here).  But this one time he didn’t bolt, he headed straight for Cindy as she headed to him and in just a few seconds Cindy had Boomer safely in her arms and back into the car.  I immediately press the button to raise and LOCK the rear windows.  Good for Boomer that the parking lot was quiet this evening.  Cindy and I look at each other, our hearts racing, shaking, “Can you believe he actually jumped out the window of this moving car?”  “Boomer, yes I believe it” was the reply.  Boomer is now sitting in Cindy’s lap, so innocent looking wondering if he is going to get the blistering of his life or not, and I know he is thinking, “Good thing we are not home cause I would be seeing the fly swatter or that nasty empty paper towel tube thingy that I tend to get on my butt often”.  We both take a deep breath and Cindy gives Boomer and quick going over looking for bones sticking out of skin, blood, discomfort as she examines him.  No signs of physical distress or injury present she says, “YOU, MISTER are one lucky dog.  Don’t you EVER scare us like that again.  David, lock that window lock”.  “Already done, Dear.”  Boomer has this look on his face like, what just happened?  I put the vehicle back into gear, maybe a total of 2 minutes have elapsed since the great escape, and we begin moving.  Boomer, back in the back seat, is up and doing his usual rear window checks so we know he is fine.  We get our Dairy Queen treats and head home.  And yes, Boomer shared in on a lick or 2 that cold creamy white ice cream we all enjoy.  Boomer we love you and miss you and think of you each time we go and get a Dairy Queen.

Trust over time

My name is Bailey

My name is Bailey

One day while I was at work and Cindy was at home and she was busy around the house.  She happened to look out front and noticed something odd.  A car had just stopped in front of the house.  We live in a small sub-division, about half-developed, so a car stopping in front of the house was unusual.  She stopped what she was doing to see why the car had stopped.  She noticed the man in the car was leaning away and opening the door on the other side of the car, then closed the door, and then drove away.  As the car drove away Cindy noticed a dog sitting at the street.  She watched in disbelief, “Did I really see what I just witnessed?” she thought.  The dog just sat there watching the car pull away.  Cindy was flabbergasted and taken back.  No time to get a tag number or make and model of the car as this was totally unexpected.  OMG she thought, he just dropped off that dog.  Then she became upset and angry thinking how could someone do such a thing.  She stepped outside to take a look and when the dog saw her it ran away beside the house across the street.  Beside the house was an empty lot and the dog sought refuge back in that lot which was grown up with grass.  As the day wore on she noticed the dog back out at the side-walk watching for it’s master to return to get it, but he never did return.  We have had a problem in the area from time to time with stray dogs coming around and when I got home I saw the dog over there and figured this must be the dog she had called and told me about.  I began to walk that way but the dog ran when it saw me walking toward it.  Over the next couple of days we kept an eye out and the dog would disappear for a while but always returned to the spot where it was dropped off.  We did notice it appeared to hang out in the front porch area of the house across the street.  We also noticed that when a certain kind of car was coming down the street, smaller type of car, the dog would go to the sidewalk believing it’s master was coming to pick it back up.  It was very sad.  Our county doesn’t have any animal control, it is a rural county, so we knew that was not an option.  On the third day, noticing the dog was going to remain in that yard, that homeowner not even noticing the dog, we set out some water and food under our willow tree in the front yard.  To our joy we began to notice the food and water began disappearing, but not witnessing the dog eating or drinking from the bowls.  After a few more days we realized if this dog was going to survive it was up to us, so we set out on a mission.  As we began refilling the food and water we began to notice the dog in our yard.  We would step out the front door in an attempt to befriend it but nothing doing, off it would run.  We were persistent, and after a few more days the dog would allow us to stand on the front porch and it would not run off.  Ok we though, a little progress.  However, the dog was still very skittish and attempts to call the dog or approach the dog were fruitless.  It had been about 2 weeks at this point and we knew we had to continue to assist this dog and hope it would see that we were not there to harm it.  I began to notice encouraging signs like a bed in the mulch area up close to the house, the dog not running away when we would go outside, however we could not get close to the dog.  The dog was a beagle mix, mostly white with a large black spot on it’s side and brown around the ears.  We began going outside in the evening and sitting on the front porch bringing doggie treats with us. We knew by this point it was a female.  As we began to form this new relationship we discussed names for the dog and finally decided on Bailey, it just seemed to fit her.  We would sit calmly in our seats and talk quietly and Bailey would slowly walk over toward us, but kept a safe distance.  She seemed very interested but still unsure of who these people were and what their intentions were toward her.  We would pitch her a doggie treat out into the grass and she would approach the treat slowly and then grab it and run back to her comfort zone.  As we did this each evening she would begin to get a little closer and closer until one night she actually would begin to take the treats from our hands.  But she still would not allow us to touch her.  If you attempted to pet her while she was getting her treat she would run back to her comfort zone.  We wanted so badly to give her some loving and attention but knew we had to be patient.  This went on for a few weeks.  We decided to leave the garage open about a foot in the evenings and she took to the garage for her shelter.  One evening she allowed Cindy to touch her, finally a breakthrough.  However, this touching was very limited at first.  It was very apparent that there was this distrust evident and we wondered what her prior situation had been.  We believed it must have been abusive in some form.  We knew all we could do was continue to show her we meant her no harm.  We made her a bed in the garage in a crate with some soft bedding and she loved that.  We were at about the 6 week point in this new relationship and she was at the point where when we sat out front she would come sit with us, enjoy her treats but still only very limited touching allowed.  She began following me around as I did the yard work and on occasion showed the friskiness you would expect, running around me, darting past me but just far enough away that I couldn’t touch her.  One evening we invited her into the house and she accepted the invitation.  She didn’t stay long, just long enough to walk in through the kitchen, into the dining room, looked out the window, and then back out to the garage, which had become her home.  By this time she had relaxed and began to show us her true colors.  Our solar lights from the front walk way began showing up in the back yard, and all chewed up.  Hummmm….. so we have a thief on our hands.  Soon after that Cindy noticed something white strewn around out back and upon investigation realized it was a package of my work shirts I had ordered and which the UPS man had left at the front door.  I also received frequent boxes with parts which restock my work van and automatically arrive via UPS once a week.  One evening I was out back and noticed a shredded box.  As I approached the box Bailey was out there with me, still keeping a little distance, but very interested in a game of tag, and not far from the box was a camera lens which goes on a video camera.  I thought to myself, you little thief.  Was this for attention, amusement, or maybe this is why you got dropped off.  I was upset but not mad, cause by this time we had began to love Bailey and we were trying to get to that last phase of our relationship where she fully trusted us enough to allow us to pet and love on her.  We were about 8 weeks into this growing relationship at this point.  She was still staying in the garage and we knew we had to begin to get her accustomed to coming into the house as it was late September and cold wet weather was arriving and we wanted her to stay safe and warm as the temperatures began changing and fall setting in.  She accepted our invitation to begin staying in the house and inside the house she began allowing us to love on her and pet her, however outside she still wouldn’t respond the same, it was as if it was a “catch me if you can” game.  She loved to run and be chased.  If you had your back to her she would run as fast as she could, and she could haul butt, and zoom right past your leg.  If you made a motion toward her she would run circles around you.  Yes, we believed she had fully accepted us as her new masters and was enjoying her new home.  The other dogs Sadie, Punky, and Boomer had also accepted her and had no problems with Bailey.  Bailey had now become a part of the family and was bedding down in her crate next to Sadie at night, inside where it was warm and dry, no more garage and no more cold.  Bailey still loved to run outside the fence and we allowed that for a time, although restricting her more to the fenced back yard area.  She learned to enjoy the physical scratching a petting and she realized what she had been missing for so long.  She took to me as her master and to this day favors me.  One day as she was out roaming we heard this loud “YELP” from across the field …. well … you’ll have to look for another posting about the events concerning the “YELP” and the results of the “YELP”.  But now we had another dog at the dinner table each evening.

Killer Toad

My name is Punky

My name is Punky

Now for a little different flavor.  At this point in time, many years ago we had Smokey, Punky, and Boomer.  This story is about Punky our little Yorkie.  He LOVED to go outside and hunt.  His favorite big game to hunt was those little green lizards that were abundant at our house.  All you had to say was, “Where’s the lizard?” and off he’d go big game hunting.  He would go snorking in the bushes and beside the house tracking those lizards.  Well one early evening I was in the house and Cindy was outside with the Punks and he was being his usual self, big game hunting.  But this particular evening he didn’t find a lizard, instead he found a killer toad!  Now I didn’t witness the attack, and Cindy didn’t either, but it was evident that Punky did.  Cindy yelled into the house “Dave, something is wrong with Punky.  Come QUICK!”  So I run outside not knowing what to expect.   There is Punky shaking his head, froth around his mouth, and acting funny.  I asked what had happened.  Cindy said, “I’m not sure but I think he got mixed up with that toad over there.”  So I go look and sure enough there sits a toad beside the house.  So I am wondering if Punky had been watching that special on TV about licking a toads head and getting a LSD high.  The toad appeared to be fine, didn’t look like he was bitten.  Then Punky began having a hard time breathing.  So we picked him up and noticed his collar was very tight.  Well he has a small neck to begin with so that was very unusual.  After removing his collar he was still struggling to breath.  We began to get vey concerned and figured that Punky did tangle with the killer toad and ingested some defensive chemical that the toad produced.  I decided it was time for me to get the ambulance fired up and get Punky to the emergency room for some life saving assistance.  Good for us there was an Animal Hospital about a mile and a half from the house so we loaded up, Punky riding shot gun and me driving.  As I drove him, his breathing was very sporadic and I could tell it was getting worse by the minute.  Tears began rolling down my face and I was trying to talk to him and reassure him telling him I was getting him help and to hang in there.  I remember telling him, “Daddy loves you Punky, keep breathing.  Please don’t die, please keep breathing Punk.  We’ll be there in a second.  Hang in there Punky.”  Within minutes our ambulance arrived at the hospital.  I grab Punky and go running in through the front door and yelled, “We need a Vet NOW, he’s not breathing.”  And I was greeted with the following from the lame girl in the reception area, “I’m sorry Sir but we don’t open for another 15 minutes.”  I said, “You WHAT?  My dog cannot breath, LOOK we need some help NOW.”  “Sir, I am sorry it will be about 15 minutes as the Vet is not here yet.”  I responded, “YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME.  My dog is struggling to get a breath and you are telling me to wait 15 minutes.  WHAT KIND OF HOSPITAL IS THIS!”  So my mind went into high gear.  I knew that there was a clinic about 5 miles away and with my ambulance I can get him there if I rush in about 10 minutes with a little help.  So I rush Punky back outside, only having been in this house of death about 30 seconds, and off we go.  Now I am crying, driving, and trying to console Punk.  He looks at me with pleading eyes as if to say “Please help me, I can’t breath”.  I’m telling him to hang in there.  “Daddy loves you Punk.  I’m getting you to a place that will help but you have to hang in there.  Take a breath, please Punk.”  He was getting in a small breath every few seconds but I knew if he didn’t get help quickly it would not turn out well.  I sped to that clinic as fast as I could, no concern for the posted speed limit of 35 MPH on the longest stretch of road.  We arrived at the other clinic in about 8 or 9 minutes, one of the longest 8 or 9 minutes of my life.  I grab Punk and rush in and yelled out, “WE NEED A VET.  MY DOG IS NOT BREATHING!”  And they went into action, took him back immediately.  They administered some oxygen and he began breathing again, although shallow at first, his breathing returned to normal within minutes.  I guess maybe the toxic substance from the killer toad was wearing off.  By now, from the time of the Killer Toad attack until it had been maybe 15 minutes, 20 tops.  After about 10 minutes the Vet said that Punk’s breathing was returning to normal but there was some swelling in the neck.  Monitor him but he should be fine.  I paid them, I think it was around $200, but I didn’t care what the cost was because Punky was looking better and breathing normally at this point.  So I take him back to the ambulance and we proceeded to drive home.  I told him “Daddy loves you and I’m glad you are doing good.  Please don’t scare us like this again.”  There was a happy reunion when we returned home, especially with Cindy as Punky sticks with her like glue.  Of course it was past dinner time by now, but I was assured that Punky would be at the dinner table tomorrow!

Woo Woo Dog

Asia's favorite purch

Asia’s favorite perch

This little story is about Asia the Chichi.  She also goes by Asia Lynn when in trouble, yes she gets into trouble as well as the other dogs.  But this story is not about misbehaving, it’s about her habit or nature.  Although small in size, she doesn’t see it the way we do.  She believes she is as big as Sadie.  And she can become almost demonic at times, but I’ll save that for another story, another day.  Asia has a very different thing she does when she gets excited.  It’s really kind of funny so we enjoy hyping her up so we can witness this habit or characteristic she has.  Lets say it is dinner time for the dogs.  All the dog bowls are empty and so I go and fill the empty coffee container from the 50 pound bag of dog food.  Asia will come running as she eats her fair share, or should I say more than her fair share.  Sometimes I call her “wide load”, or “box car”, or suggest she may need a roller skate before long to assist her in getting around the house.  She would eat as much as Sadie if we let her.  But let me get back to the story at hand.  So here she comes running for dinner.  If you look at her and ask if she is hungry, her response is “wooowooooooooooo” almost like a howl but not really.  She’ll stick that nose up in the air and out it comes.  You can ask her if she wants to take a car ride and up will go the nose and out comes “wooowooooooo”.  Almost any question you ask her can elicit the response of “woooowoooooo”.   One day, Phoenix our grandson got so tickled hearing her woo woo that he called her the Woo Woo Dog.  She can woo woo almost anytime.  You might be in the other room and then enter the room Asia is in and if she gets excited the next thing you’ll hear is “woowoooowooooooo” with her nose up in the air.  Now, just hope she doesn’t get too excited.  Used to be just coming home from work, she would get excited, and if you reached down to pet her, well, loss of bladder control!  Or if you haven’t seen her in a day or two and then come home, well, loss of bladder control!  Asia now lives with her Mommy, my step-daughter.  In fact she is coming home for a visit today for a few days.  I expect when I get home from work today I best grab a roll of paper towels from the garage as I come in the door and get some ready cause I know I’ll be greeted with a “woooowoooooo” or 2 and some pee to clean up.  And there be one more dog at the dinner table tonight!

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