When I was an infant, (bring it on, TCB!) we had a BOXER named Duke (after John Wayne) who wanted to sleep with me in my crib. He went to a good home.
Then there was Tiny, the DACSHUND, who joined the family not long after Duke left. Tiny was black, completely, and had every bit as much energy as a one-year-old toddlin', baby boy. Tiny stayed with us for a very, very long time - even through a move to the house we live in now.
Joining Tiny after the move, was a stray HEINZ-57, whom due to her coloring, we called Taffy. Taffy was a stray who was pregnant, so I got to witness the birth of eight adorble GERMAN SHEPHERD + WHO KNOWS WHAT pups. Taffy become an outdoor dog, skilled in the fine art of guardianship. What I remember most about Taffy, though, was her diet: table scraps (including vegetables) cooked up into corn meal mush. I can't even eat a corn meal muffin without thoughts of Taffy. Both Taffy and Tiny lived to ripe old ages, and died of natural causes.
Then came the CHIHUAHUA phase - one short-haired named Cinderella, the other a white long-haired named Gypsy - obviously the CHIHUAHUA phase came into play roughly at the same time as the show-queen phase. yappy little things that they are, they are still one of the most loyal animals. . .Gypsy even liked to sing. . .a lot!
Somewhere down the road, I decided I wanted a cat. I got to pick out a kitten at a flower shop, who turned into Miss Kitty (yep, named for Amanda Blake), who later in life gave birth to a litter of six-toed cats. Among those in that litter, I kept a male, who was tiger-striped and amber-eyed, whom I named Algernon. (See, the flower shop does mean something in the long run). I was in high school, and while getting off the bus one day, found Miss Kitty lying peacefully in the front yard, but, twas not really the end of Miss Kitty, for we adopted the daughter of one of Miss Kitty's six-toed litter, who became known as Chita (you can place the year by CHICAGO). Now Chita was a very independent creature, and only later in her life did she become a people-cat. Chita wandered off thirteen years ago at a ripe old age.
During Chita's stay, we also had two other cats - an orange tabby named Roxy (after Miss Hart) and the fruit of Roxy, now named Rocky, and Chita's union, a midnight ebony named Valentino. All of the cats were indoor/outdoor creatures, and would scratch at the screen doors to be let in or out according to their whims. It would seem to me that cats have a longer life span than dogs, for, while those cats were in existence, there were three other dogs. . .
Dog number one was a POODLE-BEAGLE mix, from a stray that I found in a log in the woods in the back of our house with her six puppies. . . .The mother was pure beagle, and she and the remaining five pups were taken to an animal shelter once the beagle became used to my daily visits with food and milk.
[move=left,scroll,6,transparent,100%] * * * GET OUT YOUR HANDKERCHIEFS TIME * * *[/move]
Lady, after a long life, developed cancerous cysts and had to be put down.
A trip to the animal shelter yielded a BORDER COLLIE + TERRIER mix, splotched all over in blacks, whites and reds; Patches was her name and she became the first dog to cling to me as master. Despite being an indoor dog, she loved to be outside playing frisbee, fetch and racing round the yard. Patches was not more than seven years old when she suddenly developed epilepsy. Even with the strongest medicines going, she continued on downward spiral towards the inevitable. On a Saturday morning, I was awakened by the sound of her yipping and scratching on the floor outside of my room. I run to her, and held her in my arms in an attempt to calm her down. Gradually, she did, but would just as quickly return to a seizure state. This became the first time that I personally took a dog to its veteranarian and stayed by her side as she softly left this world.
The third, and current dog, all the Hainsies and Kimlets already know to be the thirteen-year-old Siberian, Minx Anastasia; who has enjoyed hearing about all the other pets today.