My family and their pets

Why do some people like animals and others don’t? Is it because they were brought up with them? I’m not sure; but I can tell you something that won’t answer that question.


Let me set the stage then I’ll go into more detail later. My father was brought up always having a dog in the house. I can remember him talking about Lucky with fondness, but I couldn’t tell you its breed or sex, I think it was either a Springer or Cocker spaniel. My mother didn’t like animals and there were none in her childhood; she would tolerate our pets but I never saw her touch them. She didn’t have pets growing up but she did have two sisters and two brothers. Only one of mom’s sisters loves animals, my aunt Teri. She LOVES cats, obsessed really, she’s an Aquarius like me (not sure if that matters). Teri has a daughter who loves animals as well. My aunt Toni has two sons who both love animals and now each have a dog, but they didn’t have pets growing up. Maybe they were influenced by our cats and dogs, I don’t know for sure. My uncles, they never had pets or children so for them this story ends.


Now for more detail.... oh did I forget to mention I have a brother? Oops, that wasn’t by design, I assure you.... John. My brother loves animals as well, when it comes to dogs, the bigger the better. His wife Donna also likes big dogs, I say they are crazy. Not that I don’t like big dogs, but the food, the poop, the hair.... Anyway, after John and Donna got married they adopted Bart, a German shepherd. He was a really nice dog but unfortunately died at 2 years old, my brother was heartbroken. The vet was a real son of a b.... he didn’t care that the dog had died and wouldn’t do an autopsy, which really made my brother angry and me too (hence the name calling). Bart was young and the death unexplained. The vet said it could have been a heart attack, stroke or aneurism.


After a suitable mourning period, they adopted Smokey
the Irish Setter, what a lovely dog, very friendly always coming over to kiss you in the morning. This dog liked to lick EVERYTHING, and one morning Donna called me up to ask if I saw her wedding ring. I told her I saw it on the coffee table. Next thing you know, Smokey is at the vet getting an x-ray. Surgery and a good cleaning later the ring was back on her finger. The insurance company paid for it, because it was cheaper than replacing the ring.... go figure. My brother threw in a neutering; to teach Smokey a lesson. Two kids later and Smokey is still licking everything. Sadly, Smokey had some sort of growth and died, he was around 12, a respectable age for a big dog, I think.

Now, without any pets in the house, this is where the BIG DOGS come in. Donna and John and the kids, Zachary & Allison want a BIG dog, so Candy the Newfoundland mix is adopted. Candy is big but surprisingly light footed, she will sneak in on you in the morning and sniff your face and then leave; you barely know she was there. When my little lab mix Lenny jumps on the bed, he manages to step all over you and give you bruises. Well, Candy isn’t a full sized Newfoundland so they wanted another BIG Dog. Donna calls me one day and says she’s adopting a St. Bernard/Great Pyrenees mix called Moose. Now Moose isn’t finished growing but I think this dog is going to be BIG. I haven’t met him yet but I hear he’s a real terror. Candy tolerates him, but when she’s had enough she lets him know, so I’ve heard.

More on other family pets to come.

In the beginning

I was born in New York and we had a mongrel that I was very attached to.  He became agressive and my parents had to put him to sleep.  I was mad at them and didn't understand why they would do such a thing, but now that I am older (and not much wiser) I can see that it was the right thing to do.  This dog would attack children, not me but others and back in the 60's there wasn't a Dog Whisperer.

Anyway to happier times.  I convinced my parents to take in a stray cat when I was 11yrs old.  They took pitty on the cat because it was missing his back paw. I said no one would want him and got lucky, the cats name was Leroy. 

Then when I was 12, I convinced my parents to adopt a friend's dog because the pooper scooper law was new and people thought 'I'm not picking up poo', so they didn't want the dog anymore.  Duke was a german shepherd/collie mix and he was really great dog.  He wouldn't harm a fly; well except for the neighbour's Shih Tzu who was always tormenting him.   Both Leroy and Duke lived long and happy lives and when they died my father cried (not so much for the cat but definately for the dog).  I could go on about these two but I've got more years to cover.

When I was on my own and after a sufficient mourning period (for Duke & Leroy), I decided to get some fish.  They aren't as cute and cuddly as cats & dogs and so one day when I went to the pet store, there was Dakota, the most beautiful snow ball I had ever seen.  He was on sale because he wasn't as small as he used to be and no one wanted him.  I took pity on him and bought him.  Well that was the end of the fish era.

Dakota wasn't the best pet, I wouldn't recommend a puppy mill dog.  He had  separation anxiety, so as one does, I got another Samoyed to keep him company.  Someone told me that breeders ofter get rid of dogs when they aren't useful anymore, so I called the closest one I could find (Philly) and drove down to get Princess.  She was 4 years old and had lost her last litter.  They couldn't breed her anymore so she was mine for a min fee, and the promise to fix her.  These two dogs were my life and when I moved to California so did they.

O.K., so I go to the pet store again to buy food and they are having an open adoption for cats.  There's this white haired cat named Nancy and she is so beautiful....you know what happens next.

Princess died after having diabetes for two years and I'm left with Dakota and Nancy.  I think Dakota is lonely so I go to The Amanda Foundation to get another dog.  This time I didn't want a big dog, because when they get sick I can't pick them up.  So I look for someone smaller, and not white hair cause I can never wear black with out looking like I have a fur coat on.  Lenny is the result, a little black lab mix that gets along with Dakota and is small enough for me to pick up, but not too small.

Dakota wasn't lonely, he was sick, he had a brain tumor and six months after I got Lenny, Dakota died.  I couldn't believe that Dakota had died so soon after Princess; Lenny was such a good pal, he wound up being a cure for me, not Dakota.

We are nearing the finish of my story so don't give up yet.  I met my now husband, moved to England, and of course brought Lenny & Nancy with me.

I want to adopt another dog but I am afraid Lenny is used to being top dog and might be too jealous.  Also, Lenny & Nancy are both older now and get along well, so I don't want to upset the animal cart.  But who knows what will happen.  Every time I go to a dog show I come home with my new favourite breed.  My husband is partial to Schnauzers.