A Wagging Tale: Missing Jasmine

There are some things I don’t miss about Jasmine.

As she got older, Jasmine went crazy barking at every person who came to the door. She especially went nuts with the UPS people. Like they were going to gobble her up. Crazy to the point where the inside of the solid oak door is pretty badly scraped up as she jumped several feet into the air and onto it. Now we can sand and re-stain it for the last time.

My dad and Ed were the only men she instantly loved and trusted. Everyone else had to prove themselves. Over and over. It was a bit comical. And annoying.

Jasmine was addicted to trash. It didn’t seem to matter where she was when someone walked out of a bathroom, she managed to get in there behind them within 20 seconds and rummage through the trash, looking for all kinds of disgustingly delectable, to her, munchies.

She was pretty protective of her food bowl. Not from us. From other animals. So, beware the innocent cat or dog visitor who didn’t know not to go near her filled bowl.

Her slurpy water drinking led to the need for a utility pan under the dogs’ water bowls. The pan needed to be emptied a few times a week. Now it stays dry with our ‘only dog.’

She let the water from her slurpy drink drip from her mouth across the hardwood floors so they were constantly covered with little water drop marks, beginning within 10 minutes of mopping.

I think that might be all I don’t miss about my Jasmine. But know this: I would happily put up with any of it again, and love her as much as ever. If that were at all possible.

Missing you, Jazzy, with your little whitened face and blue eye.

Leave your thoughts! Share your favorite puppy dog stories! Just click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.

RIP Jasmine December 4 , 2004 - July l6, 2015

There's a little hole filled with sadness in my heart right now.

It's the knowledge that I will never again hear Jasmine’s loud and deep bark when I enter the house through the front door and quiet her by calling out, “It's mommy!"

The fact that I will never hear the little cow bell ring  - her alert to go out or for us to let Gypsy in.  

It’s never being crushed by her 85 pounds as she attempts to curl fully into my lap while I’m on the sofa. 

Of not slowly repeating her full name when she just looked at me when I called to her rather than come. “Jasmine. Jane. Clementine. Wills.” It made her move every time.

It’s the sadness of not being able to rub her tummy with my feet - something that started when she was 5 weeks old and being house broken. I slipped on ice on the deck as I carried her off since she was too little to go down the steps. I blew out my knee and for six weeks in a recliner I couldn’t reach down to pick her up; I could only reach her with my foot.

Of never having her sit on my feet or crowd into the bathroom with me during a thunderstorm.

It’s the emptiness of not saying again, “It’s bedtime, girls. Let’s go potty outside,” because now Gypsy is an ‘only dog.’ 

It’s the hurt of not having her sit by my feet when I read or watch a movie, or curl under my desk while I write.

It’s the deep sadness of not having her follow me from room to room. She was devoted to my every move for nearly 12 years.

No puppy can ever fill Jasmine’s place in my heart.

You left suddenly, Jasmine. I pray it was peacefully. You will always be the “best little puppy in the whole wide world.”

Leave your thoughts! Share your favorite puppy dog stories! Just click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.

Farewell Faithful Friend

Yesterday was a sad day for our family, especially for Annie. It was on January 2, 2012, with no other options available, her sweet Pug dog Frodo entered eternal rest.  Rest it will be for the poor little guy who has suffered long with breathing issues; in the last several weeks his health deteriorated completely due to those issues. After two weeks of doctor visits and x-rays and medications, it was apparent there was no hope for even partial, let alone full, recovery. 

Dogs have heart? They feel? They understand? They comfort? No one can convince me otherwise. Frodo was such a dog. Rescued at about age eight, his first job was to take Annie from a state of depression following a crippling bout with staph that infected her bloodstream.  

He arrived on a Friday night a week before her birthday. “Who’s this?” she blinked when he walked into the great room where she had been living for weeks. 

“It’s your new dog. Happy Birthday.”

The light in her eyes and smile on her face, the first we had seen in a long time, was answer enough. From that moment, the two were inseparable.

Frodo knew his purpose in life. It was to be a companion. He did not play typical dog games, he didn’t run with the other dogs in our family. He only desired to be close to Annie. He knew when she was sad or happy, and leaned into her. He waited for her with more patience than Job. He filled every lonely moment of her first sixteen months in Colorado, some of the toughest times she knew.

Annie was given a gift of assurance this morning that Frodo is at peace, breathing freely, and where he belongs. For many years, she has gotten up before the crack of dawn to head out to witness that dawn. Sunrise has always called her.  This morning, when she walked out her apartment door to the parking lot, early as usual for her commute, a sunrise greeted her that stopped her in her tracks and took her breath away. See the pictures below. It is truly the most spectacular sunrise. God knows our language and is ever seeking ways to communicate His love to us, as He did to Annie.

Frodo was the most devoted dog I have been honored to know. He put every ounce of energy into being the best at what he was meant to be. I wonder if we humans put as much effort into living our calling how much more content we would be. If we were all content, think of what a better world we would live in.

Thank you, Frodo, for your sweet example of selfless devotion and love. Thank you for teaching us lessons in contentment and fulfillment. You will be missed by many, for ever.

(Leave your thoughts! click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.)

A Wagging Tale: Devotion = Contentment

They wait on me hand and foot. Well, foot and foot may be more accurate. They lie by my feet, lean their heads on my leg, and wait. I stand up, they stand up. I move across the room, their little feet carry them to the same place. I sit down again, they sit and gaze into my eyes, desiring only that I look back and smile. They even look to me to allay their fears during thunderstorms.

They actually desire me to guide and set boundaries for them. It makes them feel secure to know what’s expected of them, as they only want to please me. They wait for my commands. If they go ahead of me, it usually leads to them being dissatisfied because I will reprimand, which makes them sad.

All day, and even into the night, they only want to be near me. They are grateful for my presence with them. They are content. For Jasmine and Gypsy, life is good.

Would that I be as devoted to God. Perhaps I, too, would find rest and contentment every day. 

(Leave your thoughts! click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.)

A Wagging Tale of Jasmine & Gypsy: Friendship

My two devoted canines are an example of true friendship. They wait and watch for each other when we call them inside, or send them out to potty, or call them to crate or bed time.  Together they race around the yard or house, and snoop under bushes for tiny critters after a hard rain.

Their friendship is not only evident because they have fun together. Each pup has her own private space and often calls for private time. They have separate eating places and crates and their favorite human chairs. One may want to run around outside (Gypsy) while the other prefers to lounge indoors (Jasmine). One chooses to play with us (Gypsy) while the other watches contentedly from the sofa (Jasmine). Jasmine is highly protective of her dinner. She lets Gypsy know with her ears back and a glare if Gypsy strays too close on those days Jasmine feels like taking her time to eat.  An audible warning is given when one continually bugs the other to play (Gypsy to Jasmine).

Regardless of the day around them, at some point each day, they can be found lying close together, usually touching with feet or back, often with Gypsy curled next to Jasmine’s strong body. They always forgive and forget. They let each other be themselves. They are friends.

(Leave your thoughts! click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.)

A Wagging Tale of Gypsy: Hunt

Gypsy, as you may recall, is part Beagle. I am thinking that would be why she loves our game of Hunt.
She keeps a ball or bone in her mouth for the entire game.
I roll a hard rubber ball (the only toy she has never been able to destroy).
She runs to stop the ball, then points at it for me to come over.
I walk over,  roll the ball, she chases, stops it and points.
Over and over again.
What do you think? Hunting instinct, right?


(Leave your thoughts! click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.)

I miss my puppies

I have taken two weeks in Colorado to visit my daughter and to enjoy this glorious land.
Unfortunately, I had to leave my sweet Jasmine and Gypsy behind.
Gosh, I miss them. I miss their following me around. I miss their asking for me to do things for or with them. I miss them lying at my feet while I work.
No more to say.
When do you miss your pups?

(Leave your thoughts! click on '(numeral) comment' underlined link below, by my name.)