ZenCat
06-17-2004, 01:17 PM
I sent this story by email to a friend on this board. Another friend asked about Grip's story, so I thought I'd post it here, but first I want to tell another story. My first dog, a rescue:
The Tale of Grady
My first dog was a rescue from the dog pound. It was a total impulse, I just woke up one morning and thought - with great urgency - I need a dog and went down to the pound in the town where I lived. I got there, and it was full to capacity PLUS (they had dogs in pens outside too). All pitbulls and rottweilers, every one. I told the woman that I really didn't want a pit or rottweiler (she was really pushing them on me) and she said "Well we have one other who we were going to put down today. He's been in and out of here since he was a puppy and nobody wants him. He's a wreck." So she brought me over to this outside pen and there was this clearly purebred black lab, skinny as Grip is now, broken tail, filthy, too tight choke collar wearing a baldspot in his neck. I could smell him from 20 feet away. I said "that one, I want that one." she looked at me like I was crazy. I took him straight to this place where you can wash your own dog, and then took him home to call my vet. Went straight up there and my vet (who i've known for 15 years or more) said "Lisa, you're crazy." He has a history of trying to save all these "lost cause" kittens I've picked up over the years, some made it, some didn't. This dog, who I named John Grady Cole, was about 58 lbs, had Lyme disease, several scars and healed broken bones... a gigantic head and paws. I slept on the floor with him for a week. To rush to the middle of the story, after 2 months he put on 25 lbs, had a beautiful glossy coat and my vet was stunned. He was the most beautiful, loving, tender soul... he even protected me from a stray that attacked us one night when we were out walking. I lost my apartment because the landlord didn't allow dogs, and that eventually led to me buying my first house. This dog was the kind of dog anyone would dream of having (except I realized eventually he was stone deaf, which explained why he never came when called unless you had eye contact). The arthritis from the long advanced Lyme finally got him though, and he lost control of his bowels and hind end when my son was about a year old. At that time my vet very gently suggested that he was in so much pain that his medication couldn't really manage any more, and I should consider letting him go, so I did. I laid on the exam room floor with him and held him as he went to the other side (fighting all the way... he didn't want to go. it took 2 injections.) Had I only known then what I know now about diet, I wonder if I would have let go so easily.
For the next year I had dreams probably 4 nights a week that he wasn't gone. I just couldn't get over him. I finally agreed to a new dog and we got Drum as a puppy, but it became clear very quickly that he only had eyes for my dh. That's the end of Grady's story... or is it?
http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid122/p048138b0490718e4be84e188b334637c/f83acd2a.jpg
My Gradydog
http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid122/pa926231aacc9ab2551a838c69d937853/f83acd2c.jpg
Talk about alpha male... beloved rescue Ponycat on Grady's bed. Grady in background (Pony passed just before Grady did, and is now probably holding court over all my other departed pets waiting for me at the bridge)
The Tale of Grady
My first dog was a rescue from the dog pound. It was a total impulse, I just woke up one morning and thought - with great urgency - I need a dog and went down to the pound in the town where I lived. I got there, and it was full to capacity PLUS (they had dogs in pens outside too). All pitbulls and rottweilers, every one. I told the woman that I really didn't want a pit or rottweiler (she was really pushing them on me) and she said "Well we have one other who we were going to put down today. He's been in and out of here since he was a puppy and nobody wants him. He's a wreck." So she brought me over to this outside pen and there was this clearly purebred black lab, skinny as Grip is now, broken tail, filthy, too tight choke collar wearing a baldspot in his neck. I could smell him from 20 feet away. I said "that one, I want that one." she looked at me like I was crazy. I took him straight to this place where you can wash your own dog, and then took him home to call my vet. Went straight up there and my vet (who i've known for 15 years or more) said "Lisa, you're crazy." He has a history of trying to save all these "lost cause" kittens I've picked up over the years, some made it, some didn't. This dog, who I named John Grady Cole, was about 58 lbs, had Lyme disease, several scars and healed broken bones... a gigantic head and paws. I slept on the floor with him for a week. To rush to the middle of the story, after 2 months he put on 25 lbs, had a beautiful glossy coat and my vet was stunned. He was the most beautiful, loving, tender soul... he even protected me from a stray that attacked us one night when we were out walking. I lost my apartment because the landlord didn't allow dogs, and that eventually led to me buying my first house. This dog was the kind of dog anyone would dream of having (except I realized eventually he was stone deaf, which explained why he never came when called unless you had eye contact). The arthritis from the long advanced Lyme finally got him though, and he lost control of his bowels and hind end when my son was about a year old. At that time my vet very gently suggested that he was in so much pain that his medication couldn't really manage any more, and I should consider letting him go, so I did. I laid on the exam room floor with him and held him as he went to the other side (fighting all the way... he didn't want to go. it took 2 injections.) Had I only known then what I know now about diet, I wonder if I would have let go so easily.
For the next year I had dreams probably 4 nights a week that he wasn't gone. I just couldn't get over him. I finally agreed to a new dog and we got Drum as a puppy, but it became clear very quickly that he only had eyes for my dh. That's the end of Grady's story... or is it?
http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid122/p048138b0490718e4be84e188b334637c/f83acd2a.jpg
My Gradydog
http://www.imagestation.com/picture/sraid122/pa926231aacc9ab2551a838c69d937853/f83acd2c.jpg
Talk about alpha male... beloved rescue Ponycat on Grady's bed. Grady in background (Pony passed just before Grady did, and is now probably holding court over all my other departed pets waiting for me at the bridge)