I've had a number of pets throughout my life. Several gold fish, a few salt-water fish, and a couple of betas at different times that I seemed to kind of inherit from other people, but they always lived a long time. There was a blue crab at one point, and a turtle named Petey more recently. But the first dog we had when I was little was a Cocker Spaniel named Angel. I never cared much for her, as she used to chew off my Barbie's hands and feet. We actually gave her away at a garage sale when I was really young. I don't really remember, as my age would not allow, but apparently the woman who took her really fell in love.
After that I think we had hamsters, which all died of hypothermia and we buried them in our backyard, grave markers and all. Then our neighbor's dog had puppies and one of them would dig his way under the fence into our yard frequently. He was a Chow/Shepherd mix supposedly, but looked like a Border Collie. They finally decided to just let us keep him, and we had him for about 4 or 5 years. We weren't really educated pet owners back then, and now having worked at a vet, taken classes, etc. I realize how neglected he was, but we really just didn't know any better. He ended up running away on the Fourth of July, frightened by the fireworks, I suppose. We searched for him for a while, but he was no where to be found.
Less than two weeks later, my mom, sister, and I walked into a Kroger's only to see "free puppies!" on the bulletin board. We called, and went to go check them out. They only had two left out of a 12 puppy litter, and we couldn't just take one and leave the other, so we took both, and they were coined Smith and Wesson. I still remember the mom and dad dogs, the mom was a vicious black and white Pit-Bull, the dad, a totally mellow, laid back Rottweiler/-Pei mix. She didn't appreciate us playing with her two boys, he seemed aloof to the entire situation.
We still weren't all that educated about pet owner responsibilities, but learned as they grew up. Wesson was sick as a puppy and had to have fluids delivered subcutaneously. He was on all kinds of meds and would run into the walls. We used to have to keep the two of them separated because they got territorial of my sister since neither one was neutered and would fight all the time. Full-out teeth baring, throat biting, snarling, growling fights. I remember one fight on New Year's Eve where Smith's paw got twisted and stuck in Wesson's collar and he had to all hold them still and cut off his collar. But once they got neutered, or maybe only Smith got neutered, but either way, they were much better after that. But Wesson died of a stroke when he was about 3 or 4. He'd never been quite right.
Smith, however became a big part of the family. He loved all of our friends for the most part, but he had his favorites. Back then we had a couple of friends who lived there at one time or another, and I remember when one of my sister's friends lived there while she was pregnant and he always slept with her to keep her safe. My best friend, even called in late to work on Friday to go by my mom's house an take him a burger.
More than a couple of time Petey would mange to escape from his tropical paradise and go roaming in the backyard. Smith would be in the yard barking his little head off, and when you'd go out to see why, he'd be standing over Petey and you could just tell he was trying to tell Petey, "Hey man, you're not supposed to be out here, you're supposed to be in that thing over there with all the rocks and water and stuff!" He was one of those dogs that you could just talk to and it seemed like he understood English.
In his prime, he could take a punch, and would pull Walt, my step dad, on roller blades. He would just charge full speed ahead for as long as he could, but eventually all that exercise would cause him knee troubles and he'd have to cut back. He never liked other dogs, but just loved people. He loved to chase after squirrels and kitty-cats. If he didn't notice them at first, all you had to say was "Get the squirrel!" or "Skit the kitty!"
Since he wasn't social with other dogs, I was never able to take him to the local Bark Park, so I used to take him to the Katy Park where there were baseball diamonds and soccer fields one right after the other. He'd just run around, startling birds and whatnot, and always had a good time. And no matter how long it had been since the last rain, he always managed to find the one mud puddle in the entire park to get dirty.
I have two dogs now, my goober-Geisha, and the newest addition-Tobi Wan Kenobi [one of two strays that my sister picked up], and my mother has adopted Tobi's sister, Snickers. While none of these dogs will ever replace Mr. Smith, they will definitely help us to cope with his loss. After we took him to the vet yesterday, I went back to my mom's, sat in the backyard and cried a little, but then watching all the puppies play together, I couldn't help but smile. I guess the best therapy for a dead dog is live ones.
Yesterday was an extremely bittersweet day. For me and my family and long-time friends, it was indeed a very sad and somber day. Mr. Smith, our beloved, Pit-bull/Rottweiler mix was euthanized November 4, 2006. He was 12 years and 6 months old. He lived a very long and happy life. Smith, however, had been suffering with mast cell tumors, and damaged kidneys, for the past couple of years. He had several surgeries to remove different growths and tumors of varying sizes. In September, he underwent his final surgery to remove two growths that had ruptured on his right knee and became bothersome to him. 6 weeks later, it was discovered that he had quickly developed numerous growths in his stomach and groin area, as well as on his hind legs.
It was my belief, through seeing him periodically struggle with mobility, that the cancer had metastasized into his bones and was causing him occasional pain. We felt it best for his quality of life that we not let him go on and begin to live in suffering from the pain this cancer was causing him. This site will stay up as a memorial to Mr. Smith and I ask that any and all pet owners get any small bump or lump checked out by your veterinarian; no matter how small or insignificant it may seem, it's better safe than sorry. Mr. Smith will be deeply missed.
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