Thankful: Fur Babies

Every year in November, I try to post on Facebook a daily expression of my thankfulness. This year, I’ve decided to go one step further and blog daily with these thankful posts. Considering how overwhelmed I’ve been lately, I thought this series would do one of two things. First, it would force me to write every day which is a source of therapy for me. Secondly, it would help me focus on all the wonderful things and people I have in my life.

Ten years ago, I had my first dog. His name was Stan (Stanley Stanford to be exact — so yes, Stan Stan), and he was a lab/shepherd something or other mix. He was brilliant. I loved that dog until the day he went out and fell asleep forever in our yard. I still love him to this day.

Not too long later, I adopted Bella. She was some sort of beagle/hound something or other, and she was old. She had a good year or two with us before she started having seizures. She was going blind and was already basically deaf. She was limping in a weird way. We said goodbye to her in the most peaceful of ways.

When Miss Sassy Pants was three, I decided I wanted a Boston Terrier. I wanted a smaller dog that I already knew was good with kids. So, we got Lemonade. Technically, her name is “Lemalade” — that’s what happens when you let the 3 year old make the decision on the dog’s name.

Math Man and I got married, and after we went on a week’s trip that caused Lemalade/Lemonade to have to live with her cousin dogs for a week, we realized we needed a second dog. Lemonade was just too depressed on her own. I guess having three other dogs to play with 24/7 for a full week made the adjustment back to real life difficult.

So, we got Dug. We adopted him from a sanctuary in town. The story goes that he was left by his family. The apparently just drove away as he tried to chase them.

He immediately took to Math Man, but he was afraid of basically any other man. We were fully aware that someone had abused him.

In the last nine months, Dug has been in three fights. He’s a gentle giant. Think Lenny from Of Mice and Men. He does not want to hurt anything, but he doesn’t recognize his own strength.

Lemonade, on the other hand, at 1/4 of Dug’s size, wants to instigate every argument.

We live in a neighborhood that requires leashes or fences. We have an invisible fence for our dogs, so this often leaves them open to random visitors. Dug would be happy to just hang out with the new friend, but Lemonade’s terrier traits cause her to start things and get Dug riled up.

Every time, Dug has “won.” He ends up either scaring the other dog away or forcing it into submission. We hate to think of what has happened to the other dogs — after all, it’s not their fault that their owner lost track of them — but we are often impressed by Dug.

When we first got him, we weren’t sure he’d protect us. Sure, his bark is LOUD and he’s not small. But would he pull through in an emergency.

Appears the answer is yes.

So much so that after this last fight, the vet had to remove his upper canines as they’d been broken in the fight.

He’s already cost us so much money, but he’s teaching me at least that money doesn’t really matter when you have fur babies to care for.

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