Sometimes I can't believe how my life has changed! Things I did while growing up now seem impossible, and things I thought were crazy just a few years ago now seem normal. The best example is the way I baby my dogs.
Let it be said quickly that no one loves dogs more than I. I had great dogs growing up and always expected to be a dog owner. Even as a young man I considered my dogs to be friends and partners. I used them hunting and worked livestock with them. Even more important they were companions, and companions that rarely talked back or yelled at me. I treated them well, for then, and gave them more love than I gave most people. The last times I have cried have been over then loss of dogs. I am getting misty just thinking of that.
Even though I love dogs, I would have never given much thought to spoiling them. My dogs stayed outside and hoped they never got bad sick. My grandfather was a pragmatic person. If it costs much more to cure a dog than a bullet- he would find a new dog. He never took a dog to the vet, and the only time my father did was to keep all his family from revolt. The irony is that the dogs that we took to the vet usually died anyway.
Yesterday my dog Trixie had a bad foot. She was limping around the house all day, (something none of my father's dogs would do. First they weren't allowed inside the house, second was a limp could mean time for a puppy to appear.) I checked her paw out and could find no cut or obstruction, but it was red. I gave her part of an aspirin to relieve her discomfort. Last night she slept in bed with Joy and myself, (she didn't feel good and her kennel is too small.) Topping off the evening was that Joy held her paw all night so Trixie would not lick it.
Was is this world coming to. Joy won't hold my hand all night, even if I did have the bad habit of licking it. Now not only do I let dogs stay in the house, they sleep in our bed! Sometimes I wonder- who trained who?
Let it be said quickly that no one loves dogs more than I. I had great dogs growing up and always expected to be a dog owner. Even as a young man I considered my dogs to be friends and partners. I used them hunting and worked livestock with them. Even more important they were companions, and companions that rarely talked back or yelled at me. I treated them well, for then, and gave them more love than I gave most people. The last times I have cried have been over then loss of dogs. I am getting misty just thinking of that.
Even though I love dogs, I would have never given much thought to spoiling them. My dogs stayed outside and hoped they never got bad sick. My grandfather was a pragmatic person. If it costs much more to cure a dog than a bullet- he would find a new dog. He never took a dog to the vet, and the only time my father did was to keep all his family from revolt. The irony is that the dogs that we took to the vet usually died anyway.
Yesterday my dog Trixie had a bad foot. She was limping around the house all day, (something none of my father's dogs would do. First they weren't allowed inside the house, second was a limp could mean time for a puppy to appear.) I checked her paw out and could find no cut or obstruction, but it was red. I gave her part of an aspirin to relieve her discomfort. Last night she slept in bed with Joy and myself, (she didn't feel good and her kennel is too small.) Topping off the evening was that Joy held her paw all night so Trixie would not lick it.
Was is this world coming to. Joy won't hold my hand all night, even if I did have the bad habit of licking it. Now not only do I let dogs stay in the house, they sleep in our bed! Sometimes I wonder- who trained who?
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