Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Happy Birthday, Kirby!

Posted by Sharon Labels: ,

There can really only be one topic for this day's post on my blog. Today is Kirby's birthday and it is her day. Some of you already know that I am preparing to lose her; some may think I already have. But my old Samoyed, my faithful friend and companion is still with me and we are celebrating her 13th birthday today.

Kirby came to me in 1998 - a busy ball of white fluff...

... that grew into a beautiful adult dog.


Through the ensuing years, she was with me almost 24/7. At home she did chores with me morning and night, laid at the edge of the arena as I rode, slept with me in the barn when I foaled out the mares and "helped" herd the younguns out the door. Although she was never in the stall she knew when a new foal had arrived and waited for her first peek from the door. Oddly enough, my mares did not mind having her around. At night, she slept by my bed and once alerted me to an intruder. Although not really a watch dog, she guarded both my truck and camper with fierce loyalty. She travelled with me to all reining shows and would not leave the outfit if she saw me preparing to load. She even entertained me and others with tricks - sit, stay, down, crawl, play dead, rollover (all with hand signals), dance and jump through a hula hoop.

We've become even closer, Kirby and I, in these last months. I am reluctant to let her go. Six weeks ago, I called the vet with every intention of taking her in. I couldn't get through the call without tears and, even though I made every preparation for the event, I called the next morning to cancel. Since that day, I have been grateful for every day we have had. In an odd way, I enjoy caring for her. Maybe it is because she needs me, but more likely it is because I need her. I so hoped she would pass away in her sleep at home where she would not be afraid but it has not come to pass.

Kirby is blind but she hears. She takes great comfort in my voice and all the familiar sounds of the house - the television, my steps across the floor, my voice on the telephone... She eats anything she wants now but her appetite is not good so I try different things and hold the dish for her to eat. I have to carry her outside to go to the bathroom.

It's incredibly sad to see her lose her independence. I wish she could talk to tell me what she is thinking. One thing I am sure of: she is very glad I did not get a new puppy. She knows she is still the only dog in my life. Happy, happy birthday, old dog!

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Their Pain is Our Shame

Posted by Sharon Labels: , , , ,

I thought I had a bad day yesterday. The thought that I had been pushing to the back of my mind all winter - that I would soon have to make that final trip to the vet with my dog - had hit me full force. For the past few months, I have been carrying Kirby (a Samoyed female) in and out of the house, settling her on a soft bed to soothe her old bones. I prepare special meals for her, rub her ears and give her hugs (which she gives me back). The night before last I bathed her. She fussed at first in the tub, but eventually relaxed. I think she most of all liked the fact that I was spending time with her. She is blind and this once-independent animal now depends on me for life. I am glad to do that for her and, thankfully, she does not know any different. Not every animal is so lucky.

I said I thought I had a bad day yesterday. That's because today was worse. This morning, on Facebook, I learned of the slaughter of 100 sled dogs in Whistler BC. A few graphic details were included - enough for me to visualize a horrific, bloody scene - and even a video (which I have not watched). My stomach churned and I became physically ill. I could not get the picture of the dogs out of my mind - their terror, the owner who had betrayed them. And my mind went back to other stories of animal cruelty. Even in my chosen field - reining - I see and hear of cruel practices, practices that point out to me that the rider does not consider his horse capable of feelings. Imagine how I feel when that horse is one I raised!

I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot even begin to understand the mind that believes that treating an animal with anything other than respect and empathy. Any animal - wild or tame - is a living, breathing, thinking being - with a soul!

I also believe that this kind of mind could also harm another human being. If life means that little, nothing will stop it.

I didn't really have a bad day yesterday after all. I still have Kirby and I will continue to care for her as long as I possibly can and as long as she is not in pain. I wish I had not opened up Facebook this morning and read this story, but I did; I wish I could do something about this but I can't; I wish I was proud to be part of the human race right now, but I'm not. The pain of those beautiful dogs is our shame.

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Never "Just a Dog..."

Posted by Sharon Labels: , , ,

I am deviating from the title of this blog . . . or maybe not. I guess it could come under the "writin'" category. Every Monday, I write about what has been most on my mind during the week and this time is no different. Dogs have been uppermost in my thoughts, specifically dogs that have been a part of my life. There's a reason for that. My Samoyed, Kirby, is not getting around well and I know I will have to make that tough decision soon. That fact has brought up memories of some very special canine friends.

1. Chummy. I don't remember Chummy very well - only vague memories of my brother and I playing with her. What made a big impact was her death. My brother and I found her lying on the grass very still and, of course, ran to Mom. There was no explanation for why she died. This is Chummy lying beside Dad holding me on Tex.

2. Duke. This golden cocker spanial male was our childhood buddy. Wherever we were, Duke was not far away. Mom could always find us that way! I remember most him playing hide and seek with us. He would wait until we hid, then come and find us. Oddly enough, I do not know how he died, but he was with us a long time. Photo below (Why am I scowling?) was in Saskatchewan, the next is in BC.

3. Tuffy. This little black terrier cross was a bundle of energy. The story I remember most is how he learned to "Go to the house." Apparently, Mom and Dad had rounded up a bunch of yearlings and were trying to get them through a gate into the barn yard. As yearlings usually are, they were plenty spooky and it was all Mom and Dad could do to hold them together at the gate to start pushing them through. That's when Tuffy appeared . . . and would not "go to the house" as Mom ordered him to do. Of course, they lost the yearlings who scattered. Furious, Mom chased Tuffy on horseback (with Dad telling her to stop or she was going to fall on the slippery, icy ground) until Tuffy didn't know where else to go BUT the house. After that, anyone could tell him to "go to the house" and he tucked his tail between his legs and left.

Mom taught Tuffy mutiple tricks and I taught him one - to "sing" Doggie in the Window with me. I played guitar and sang the lyrics; at the appropriate time, Tuffy barked. Really cute. I thought I had a picture of this somewhere, but I can't find it. We had Tuffy many, many years - until he was old and grey. I believe he was killed by a car after I left home.


4. Hind. I inherited this border collie with the strange name when I married. Hind was my husband's cattle dog, but we very quickly became attached. My very favourite story about Hind is the time he disappeared from my parents' ranch where my husband and I lived for the winter months in 1964-65. When my husband could not find him anywhere, he started thinking about the last time he had seen him.

"I was checking a cow with a new calf on the other side of the lake yesterday," he said, "I told him to lie down and stay..." And that's where Hind was - still lying down in the grass where he had been told to "stay".

At two years old, Hind was already a great cattle dog. He was going to be fantastic, but his life was cut short when he chased a rabbit into the path of a car. When I was told, my mind could not take it in. Another dog lived on the ranch and I think I thought that was the one who was killed. Only when I repeated the news to my husband, did I comprehend. Photo below is Hind with our young son. It is the only photo I could find of this wonderful, kind, intelligent and gentle dog.

Losing Hind devastated me and I did not get another dog for a few years. When I did, I bought a Samoyed puppy. I have had Samoyeds ever since.

To be continued next week - Samoyeds in my life.

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I've Got Her!

Posted by Sharon Labels: , , , , ,

For ten days I watched the Calgary Stampede. As the events unfolded - winners in Pool A, winners in Pool B, winners from Wild Card Saturday, then one champion declared for a cheque of $100,000 - a truth emerged from the arena dust (or mud!). A deep connection exists between the competitors. Contestants were competitive to be sure with such a huge prize at stake, but they were also supportive of one another. Bull riders pulled ropes for contestants that would leave the chute and beat them; bronc riders held plastic bags over reins and gloves of fellow competitors in the chute when it rained to keep them dry; steer wrestlers and calf ropers slapped one another on the backs even when the run took them out of the money and maybe out of a chance for $100,000!

All of this is no surprise to me since I travelled the rodeo circuit for a few years. I'm sure the support extended far beyond the arena. I remember well how cowboys and cowgirls helped one another on the the road and between rodeos. Here is one of my personal experiences:

I had competed at a rodeo in Wood Mountain, Saskatchewan. As I had done so many times, I travelled alone with my three children, my dog, Tanya, and of course my barrel horse, Duchess. After the rodeo, I loaded and left the grounds, mentally preparing for the long drive home to Crooked River. I wasn't looking forward to the first 60 miles because the road was not good, but I thought I could get to Moose Jaw before dark and the rest of the trip would be on pavement. A few miles out of Moose Jaw, I suddenly knew I had forgotten something in Wood Mountain - my dog! I could hardly face the trip back over the rough roads to get her, but I must. I thought perhaps one of the cowboys was still at the grounds and coming my way. That would save me the trip. But how would I find out? From a phone booth, I looked up the number for a cowboy who lived there. Maybe he could find a ride for Tanya to Moose Jaw. It would mean waiting, but better than going back. I dialed Dan's number.

"Hi, Dan. This is Sharon."

"I've got her!"

Dan had seen Tanya start to follow my outfit as I left the grounds. When she saw that she could not catch me, she turned around and sat down where we had been parked. He picked her up and took her home. "I knew you would be calling," he said. "Stay put. I'll bring her to you." And he did. He said she rode on the front seat with him all the way. A "thank you" from me was all he would take for his trouble. I can't describe how grateful I was, not only for him rescuing my dog, but also saving me pulling my outfit over the gravel road again.

I no longer rodeo and have not for many years. It's all about reining now - I show at reining shows. I sense a different "feel" between rodeo and reining shows. Although reiners enthusiastically support their "group", sometimes general support is lacking. In the short go of the barrel race at Calgary Stampede, Lindsay Sears ran third out of four. She posted a very fast time. I'm sure in the minds of most, including Lindsay, she would be the fastest, but the last rider, Savanah Reeves, on her strong palomino, bested that time by .06 seconds and would take home the $100,000. Since all the champions are immediately awarded trophy and cheque, she must run to the podium to collect her awards. The camera panned to Savannah, just off of Thunder . . . and Lindsay Sears, who had just lost the championship to Savannah, reaching for the cinch to loosen it, waving her to go (I could imagine her saying, "I'll look after Thunder. Just go." That's more than good sportsmanship. I felt the tears coming to my eyes watching this little scenario unfold . . . and thinking about another day at a recent reining show when a rider, late arriving for her class, scrambled to tack up her horse and herself - by herself! Although a spectator/horse breeder stepped in to help, not one of her fellow competitors offered help or encouragement.

At a reining show a couple of years ago, my dog (another Samoyed) got loose from my camper and came to the arena where I was riding, no doubt to find me.

"Who's dog is that? Get her out of here!" I jumped off of my horse to collar her and take her back to the trailer.

That's a long way from "I've got her!" I could be wrong, but I don't think it would be a stretch to believe that, if it had been a rodeo, I would have heard similar words . . . or another Dan would have rescued my dog. Hats off to the cowboys and cowgirls!

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