Mary and her husband Jim had a dog named ‘Lucky.’ Lucky was a real character. Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing.

Mary or Jim would go to Lucky’s toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky’s other favorite toys. Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box.

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. Something told her she was going to die of this disease ….in fact, she was just sure it was fatal.

She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her …what would happen to Lucky?

Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary’s dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. He won’t understand that I didn’t want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death.

The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks. Jim took Lucky for his evening walk faithfully, but the little dog just drooped, whining and miserable.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn’t even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch and left her to nap. Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn’t come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed.

When Mary woke for a second she couldn’t understand what was wrong. She couldn’t move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem.

She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned! While she had slept, the sorrowing dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love.

Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every day. It’s been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free.

Lucky? He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure.

Taken from… http://www.german-shepherd-lore.com/dog-stories.html

New South Wales, Australia.  The Labrador Retriever has topped the list of breeds registered with Dogs NSW, overtaking last years top breed – the German Shepherd.

The Labrador Retriever can be one of the best mid-size dogs around, and while family friendly and loving, the Labrador Retriever is an excellent family guard dog.  Read more… http://www.bordermail.com.au/news/local/news/general/labs-the-top-dog-for-puppy-love/2013869.aspx

Beverley Hills.  Want to know what to get for the dog who has everything? Want to have a look at a shop that caters to the dog that has everything? Check out The Beverley Hills Mutt Club on You Tube… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEgti3IaS4c

Carol Honkanen once bought a house just to get the dogs that came with it.

So when one of those dogs, now 15, fell off the edge of a cliff last week, her fear for her beloved pet was overwhelming.

But a frantic call to the Monroe Fire Department resulted in a rescue that turned what could have been a terrible holiday season into a time of joy and gratitude, said Honkanen last week.

Honkanen got the dogs in an unusual purchase, she said.

Since she was a child, she would not consider having dogs, because when she was about 9, a family dog was put to sleep.

But more than 10 years ago, Honkanen was living in Texas, and her husband came home one day and said he’d found his dream house.

Honkanen was satisfied with the house they had, but agreed to at least look at it. In the back yard were three beautiful dogs. She immediately felt a strong connection to them, she said.

“I was kidding,” she said. “I said, sarcastic, ‘Okay, if the dogs come with the house we’ll buy it.’”

As it happened, the owner of the house had no where to move the dogs and was looking for a home for them.

“I said, ‘If the dogs stay, we’ll take the house,’” she said.

From that time on, the chow-akita crosses had the most devoted owners possible. When the Honkanens decided to move to the Monroe area to retire, they searched for two years to find the perfect property to accommodate their pets.

Then they spent more than $1,000 each to have the dogs freighted to Washington, rather than flown in the baggage hold of a plane. And when the dogs decided that the three-car garage attached to the house was their favorite spot, the Honkanens put a doggie door in it and now park in the drive.

One of the three dogs has since died, but daily the two remaining dogs get vitamin supplements including omega 3 and glucosamine, to help their aging joints.

Then last week, Honkanen came home at lunch to give the dogs their supplements, and the dog named Tyson was nowhere to be found.

“I know he’s old, and I know we lost a dog a few years ago, so I’ve been prepared,” said Honkanen, “But I’m desperately looking and hoping he hasn’t found a spot out in the woods to go die.”

Then a thought almost as bad occurred to her.

“We live on a bluff, and it’s scary for me to even look down,” she said.

But although she is phobic about heights, she worked up the courage to go look over the edge.

“Sure enough, Tyson, he must have walked on the grassy part and fallen, he was part way down, and he got stuck,” he said. “He was trying to get up and I was afraid he would fall the rest of the way down in the road.”

She called the Monroe Fire Department, and at first they were reluctant to assist as animals are sometimes hurt during rescues.

But then Fire Chief Jamie Silva called back and said he had a couple firefighters in the area and that they would try to make it over in half an hour.

Only a few minutes later, they were on the scene.

“They were right there, they went down and they didn’t have a worry or fear in the world, and two of them picked Tyson up and brought him all the way up and brought him all the way in the living room,” said Honkanen.

“He was wet it was difficult for him to walk, and he was exhausted, but he was in okay shape,” said a fire fighter who arrived to help out.

Since the rescue, Tyson has been pampered within an inch of his life, said Honkanen, who said she was profoundly grateful to the fire department.  

She doesn’t expect to need their services again, she added, as Tyson seems very glad to be back indoors.

“I think he’s learned his lesson,” she said.

Taken from … http://www.monroemonitor.com/main.asp?SubSectionID=76&ArticleID=1301&SectionID=13

Want a special Christmas card this year. Want to give a Christmas card to or from your beloved pet?  Go to Vision Australia now and check out the range of Christmas cards they have available… find out more… https://secure.visionaustralia.org/visionaustralia/onlineshop/ProductDetail.aspx?ID=582

On a spring day in 2005 a Chinese Shar-pei was dumped in a roadside ditch in a rural area outside Wichita, Kansas. He managed to drag his near lifeless body to a nearby house where he collapsed in the yard. A man approached with caution as the dog appeared dangerous at first glance. When the dog did nothing more than lick the man’s hand with the last bit of strength he had, it was obvious this poor soul was in need of rescue.

After further evaluation, it was found that the dog was an unaltered male horse-coat Shar-pei, or possible shar-pei/pitbull mix, approximately 6 years old. He showed telltale signs of being used as training bait for fighting Pitbulls, which is far too common. Some of his teeth were broken or missing, the flesh of his mouth was torn and his body was covered in deep, bloody gashes. He was underweight and severely dehydrated.

This poor creature was named Spike and immediately accepted by the other family dogs, who readily shared their food and shelter with him. With proper care and lots of love, Spike gained 15 lbs of muscle and the spark of life came back into his eyes. The more trust he gained, the happier he became.

When Spike was strong enough to go to the vet, it was discovered that he was infected with heartworms. His new adoptive family decided to invest in Spike’s future and paid for heartworm treatment. After a long recovery period, Spike was healthy enough to be neutered and undergo eye surgery for his entropion condition, a very common and painful ailment for Shar-pei.

Spike was a very special dog, a true old soul. Despite the suffering he had been through, Spike never showed aggression toward another living being. He was calm and patient and loved to entertain. He had a fondness for chasing toads and turtles and running circles in the wheat field.

Although Spike only lived a couple of years after his rescue, he was lucky enough to spend those years carefree and happy. He finally found his forever home and will remain eternally in the hearts of everyone who knew and loved him. Rest in peace, good friend. 

Taken from … http://www.examiner.com/pets-in-wichita/chinese-shar-pei-rescue-spike-s-story

Nutley.  When Shelby was found abused and abandoned at a service station, she was scared, maimed and hesitant to trust anybody. Over time at the shelter, she improved and was adopted into a loving family. Shelby underwent more surgery and displayed so much empathy and kindness to others she underwent training to become a certified therapy dog.

Despite the unfortunate stigma attached to Shelby’s breed, Shelby is a sweet natured girl. Shelby’s owner has written a book about the Pit Bull mix, called ‘Shelby’s Grace’ and is available through his website at www.shelbysgrace.com or Amazon.  Read story … http://www.northjersey.com/community/110553224_Therapy_dog_s_tale_inspires_.html

Those of us who number dogs among our family members know of their love and loyalty and devotion. We know of their uncompromising and unconditional love.

Deanna of Tennessee found out just how loyal and devoted her father’s two Golden Retrievers were just recently. This story is both sad but very touching.

On September 24, Gary, Deanna’s 62 year old father who had been battling Alzheimer’s, wandered away from his mountain with his two dogs, Merry and Pippin. A search for Lorenz was started just hours after he disappeared. Days and weeks of searching brought no results.

On October 20, Deanna finally got the news the had been both waiting for a dreading.

“I was sitting in (Dad’s) living room when the neighbors came up and told us that he had been found,” said Deanna.

A hunter had come across her father’s body and more amazingly, his two Goldens, Merry and Pippin were guarding it.

The coroner discovered that Lorenz had died 5 days after he disappeared in the woods, on September 29. That was when they put the story together.

For three weeks the two dogs had stood guard over their beloved master’s body, protecting him from anything and everything.

The hunter who found Gary Lorenz said that Pippin was the most protective.

“Pippin was right by dad and wouldn’t allow anyone close to him,” said Deanna.

Sandee, Gary’s widow, calls the two dogs her “angels.”

“I truly believe that had the hunter not found them the dogs would have stayed (with Gary) until they had taken their last breath,” she said. “To know that they were with him when he passed from this world to the next, that he wasn’t alone? I wanted to be there when he did that, but the Lord let him in that direction.”

Yes, it is sad that Gary died but in the end he had is most loyal companions by his side, protecting to the end and beyond. I’ve heard stories similar to this before, dogs standing guard over their master’s bodies, refusing to leave. Even staying by their graveside.

A dog’s love and devotion is an amazing thing. It will do us well to repay their love and devotion in kind. They ask us so little in return.

Source – WBIR

Taken from… http://fortheloveofthedogblog.com/news-updates/a-touching-story-of-dogs-devotion

Check out this smart dog clip… http://www.metacafe.com/watch/501925/smart_dog/

Check out these cute dogs on You Tube… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9bDUjXsW28

We are living through a renovation nightmare at the moment – us and the dogs. I think my dogs are coping with it better than me – it’s amazing how quickly they adapt to and accept change in their lives.

Not so their Mamma. I find myself in disarray as my bathroom gets ripped out and gutted and I am without a shower and a toilet to rely on. I’m indebted to my kind neighbours who have offered us the use of their bathrooms on a rotating basis, so we don’t wear out out welcome. My dogs have been confined to the veranda at times, with the coming and going of the workmen, I afraid that one of them will slip out the front gate, and I will be commandeering a taskforce for a seek and find dog mission.

I’m a little frazzled by it all, but for my dogs, life goes on as usual. Sure, there  are a few things happening around them that are unusual, but they greet each new thing with excitement and optimism. You never know if it’s going to be an opportunity to meet somebody new or check out a new thing. Life is an adventure to be lived, not feared. Every moment new, and the past moment is gone and forgotten.

I should be so lucky as to take a leaf out of my dogs’ book.

I first met O’Malley, then named Stache, at the Green Lake Humane Society, in Wisconsin. I had done some volunteer work there in the past, and had dropped by while on a shopping trip to donate a few items for the pets awaiting homes. At no time did I have any intention of adopting another pet, much less a large blind dog who had no training on how to be an indoor pet, as his almost year long life had been spent living outdoors.

Fate, however, saw a sucker in me and forced me into taking a sneak peek at the dogs up for adoption. I frowned a little as I quickly realized all the dogs were being kept for the day in the outside run, as it was a beautiful sunny day. I had almost turned back, deciding to nose around the cat-room, when someone caught my eye. It was a white dog, with large brown spots, that had pushed himself to the rear of his cage out of fear. His legs were spread far apart and he shook, his head bobbing. I crouched down, trying to make myself look less intimidating, and spoke to him in a gentle voice. He began barking at me, pushing his body further away from me, and more into the corner of his kennel. Not wanting to scare him anymore than I obviously was, I stood up to leave him be, when I glanced at his cage-card. The words jumped out at me as I read the big bold letters, “I”M BLIND!” My heart sank as I looked back at him, knowing his chances at finding a home were not going to be in his favor. Big dogs are hard enough to find homes for, even with a dedicated staff like at this particular shelter, but a blind dog, I knew he would probably not be so fortunate. I was never one to see an animal in a bad situation, and not try to help it as best I could. The thought of this dog was going to bother me for a long time to come.

I left the dog in peace, and went to get more information on him. The girl I spoke with immediately began telling me his story, and she seemed anxious to stop any concerns I had about possibly bringing him home with me. I grew more leery the more I heard. He was kept outside all of his life. The three dogs I already had were indoor pets, and used to such a life. Keeping a dog outside on a chain or in a pen never appealed to me. How could I sleep in a warm home when my dog was outside shivering? I never bought into the fact a barn or doghouse was a warm enough place for a dog to sleep. Besides, dogs are pack animals, they WANT to be close to you. I wasn’t sold on the fact this dog would know how to live inside a home. Also, he was an intact male. I had a male, fixed, in my home already. Would they fight? And then there was the special needs side to it all. I wasn’t afraid of the extra work it would take caring for a dog that was blind, and of course I could keep myself from rearranging furniture so he knew where things were, but I was worried that I couldn’t keep myself from feeling that pit in my stomach of pity for him. Was he suffering? How could I watch him, everyday, knowing he was blind and missing out on so much? Everytime he bonked into something at the shelter, a wall, a fence, my legs, I felt this sadness. I just didn’t know how to see it everyday.

Three days later, after I had allowed my three dogs to meet “Stache,” I was bringing him home. And I came to find out that the work I expected to put into him wasn’t half as much as I thought it would be. As far as potty training went, my dogs took on that responsibility, and within days, he was waiting to go outside like the rest of them. He spent most of his time either sleeping, eating, or playing with the dogs toy box to get into any mischief, so there was another concern gone. And, after time, I realized that (Stache, renamed O’Malley by this time) could see, just in a different way. He saw by memorizing, sensing, and trial and error. Either way he choose, it worked for him, and my pity dissolved and was replaced with respect and an over abundance of love.

A couple of months after his adoption, I had invited a friend over to my home to show her how to download a certain program on a computer, so she could do the same on hers. Always being a scented candle nut, I lit a cinnamon candle and sat down with her in the other room to begin my lesson. After a few minutes, we both stopped, at the same time, and asked each other if they smelled smoke. At that time, the smoke detector sounded off.

We both ran to my living room seeing my couch, and the fire! I called 911 and soon my living room was a bit on the crispy side. Thankfully, my pets were unharmed during this excitement. The best we can figure out is O’Malley (yes, I hate to blame the blind dog, but it’s the most reasonable guess) must have bonked into the living room coffee table, knocking over the candle, which rolled onto the throw blanket, and starting it and my couch on fire. And yes, I do laugh about it now because how can you not? Noone was hurt and material items can always be replaced. I just realize now how dumb humans can be. I guess I didn’t blind-dog-proof my home.

O’Malley, the little fire starter, is now at my feet, sound asleep, inches from his swordfish toy (his favorite) while I write this. In the time I have had him, he has shown me what it means to make the best with what you have. O’Malley has no idea what seeing is, and if you ask him, he would probably tell you he isn’t missing out on a thing.

This past spring I was walking him and a woman stopped to talk with me, petting O’Malley, telling me how much she loved dogs. When I told her he was blind, she recoiled, pulling her hand away from his head. “He should be put down, a dog like that.” She said. “I can’t stand to see animals suffer and that’s what he is, suffering, put that dog to sleep!” She than looked at me as if I was dirt, and hustled herself away. I watched her walk away, and I think O’Malley would join me when I thought to myself, “Honey, your the blind one and someone ought to put you to sleep for stupidity!”

To see a blind dog may be a little overwhelming in the sympathy department. But take the time to get to know them. They aren’t in need of your pity or sympathy. They are just in need of love. They require the same as a dog that can see. That and an owner who keeps the scented candles out of blind dog reach!

Adopt a blind dog today! Your life will have more sight!

Taken from… http://www.globalanimal.org/2010/09/23/woman-gains-insight-from-adopted-blind-dog/16812/

I remember the first time I saw Jackson.  He was bouncing around in the pet shop window with his brother. He stopped to look at me and I was in love. We bounced out of the pet shop door together, with various accessories, including a red collar and a big blue bow on his head.

My husband wasn’t too impressed. We’d talked about dogs before, as he worked away a lot, and he thought that I needed a big macho dog to protect me. This wasn’t his idea of a dog. He wanted to know where the batteries went. It took about six weeks for Jackson to inch his way into his heart, but he was definitely here to stay for the long haul.

We went everywhere together. Jackson was a Bichon, so he was compact and cute, with good manners – which earned him  bonus points for being included into any extended family gatherings. The nieces and nephews just loved him.

Holidays were planned to include dog-friendly locations and accommodation.  Meals were cooked following the Dr Harry veterinarian diet advice for optimum health. House rules were broken and concessions made for Jackson’s sleeping arrangements. All sorts of doggy accessories found their way into the house, not all of them purchased by myself.

Jackson was with me for almost thirteen years. He saw me through a brain tumour, two miscarriages, recovery, a university degree and five house moves. The day he left us behind I thought my world would end. It took me a long time to let go of the sadness and the pain, and think of him again and smile. He will always be my special little ‘gentleman’, with a special place in my heart.

To my beautiful boy – I love you, until we meet again, rest in peace.

Taken from… http://www.city-data.com/forum/dogs/729452-touching-dog-story-kleenex-alert.html

Save-A-Pet is a no-kill, not-for-profit animal shelter dedicated to finding loving homes for each cat and dog in its care. This shelter stives to create an environment which enhances both awareness and support for the human treatment of animals.  Read more, go to website… http://www.saveapetil.org/

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m suddenly awake. I listen. There it is again. I recognize the sound — that whisper of a “woof” coming from somewhere. Downstairs?

I head out to the living room and hear it, close by — “woof.”

“Are you stuck, honey?” I ask.

It’s Daphne, our 14-year-old golden retriever, her hind legs out straight on the wood floor, making her look like a seated donkey. She can’t pull herself up so she woofs. Sometimes she’s at the back door, needing to go out; others she plants her four shaky legs in the yard or on the kitchen tile and just stands there, woofing.

This behavior surprises us since Daphne has never been a vocal animal. All her life she has barked only at dogs walking by outside. “Hello,” she seems to be saying. “Come on in.” She has never barked at strangers. They’re welcome too.

Her no-barking policy is one of her good qualities. Of all the dogs I’ve owned or known, Daphne is the most — how to put this –dimensional.

She never comes in from the yard unless she damn well feels like it. Now she’s old and slow enough that we can grab her. She only stopped attacking her leash when she lost interest in the game. She has never liked dog food — always demanding we spice up whatever’s in her bowl with hamburger or tidbits from the family dinner. She adores bagels. She can be docile and sweet one minute — snuggling with one of the cats — the next she has nosed open the door and is taking off into the woods or down the street, a wolfish glint in her eye.

“Catch me if you can,” she’s saying, “and you can’t.”
Or couldn’t, until now.

She went to dog school twice. “I’m not saying she passed either time,” the instructor said. “Let’s put it this way. She completed the course twice.”

She adores being a junkyard dog out back, lying in the dirt, her head on a rock, mosquitoes circling; once coaxed inside she’s in your bed, drooling on the soft down pillows.

It’s dawn now. I couldn’t get back to sleep after her woof wake-up call. As I write, Daphne lies at my feet.
“Hey girl!” I call out. “Want to go for a walk?”

She doesn’t budge; she’s deaf, her breathing seems shallow, intermittent.
A walk for our old girl is more like a drunken-sailor swagger into the woods, her hind legs sometimes collapsing under her. Or she wipes out completely, face in the path. But I pull her up, dust her, and she’s off, hobbling, out in front, leader of the pack … on a good day.

And she’s in a good spell, right now.

A vet who makes home visits came last week. Daphne was incontinent, spiritless, barely moving. We thought maybe it was time. But she rallied for the vet — got up on her own, then submitted on his feet for a belly rub (another of her charms). She smiled at him, eyes squinty. The vet prescribed an anti-inflammatory that seems to be helping, for the moment.

“Not yet,” we decided, and the vet agreed.

Soon, if she lasts, we will probably be making that final decision — when she’s unhappy, in pain. Already she has way outlived her life expectancy of 10 years. And she’s had a super life: woods running, ocean swimming, dog, cat and human friends, chicken skin, indulgent owners.

When it’s time, the vet will come and euthanize her — in her favorite spot out back. I have an older friend who is inoperably ill and dying. He tells me he wishes he could dress up in a dog suit and let the vet come.

“I’m serious,” he says. And he is.

I look down at Daphne. Her paws flicker, nose quivers. She’s dreaming — she has escaped us and is chasing a deer through the woods.

It really is a dog’s life.

Taken from ‘A Dog’s Life – My View’… http://www.montyshome.org/animal%20tales/adogslife.html

Scientists have made many researches aimed to prove that our little companions are very intelligent, even though every dog owner has no doubt of that fact and thinks his canine friend to be the smartest one ever. But this article is not about scientific studies or exaggerated myths. This article is about real daily examples of dog intelligence that any human can unexpectedly come across. Starting from the most recent ones, here the evidence comes.

July 2010:
Dog trapped in sweltering car honks for help
Gardner ran an errand and took Max with her. When she came home a short time later, she went inside the house, forgetting Max was still in the car. The dog saved his own life by honking the horn to get himself out of a very, very overheated car.

April 2010:
Dog leads police to fire and its injured owner
Buddy and his owner, 23-year-old Ben Heinrichs, were in the family workshop on the Caswell Lakes property April 4 when a heater ignited chemicals.
Heinrichs, who sustained minor flash burns on his face, dashed out as the fire grew. He then told Buddy “we need to get help.”
The dog took off and eventually found a trooper responding to a call about the fire. Buddy led the officer through winding back roads to the house and the trooper guided firefighters to the scene.

May 2010:
Dog saves owner from certain death
A 68-year-old violin maker from Zagreb has been saved from certain death after his dog alerted neighbours when he fell into an insulin comma. Krsto Pekic was saved after his dog Rex began banging on the front door and making enough noise for neighbours to hear him. They called police and fire fighters who broke into the apartment and took the unconscious Pekic to hospital.

November 2009:
The dog who saves his owner’s life every night
Bernadetta Henry suffers from sleep apnoea, which affects her airways and causes her to stop breathing several times each night. But faithful Boris lies next to the grandmother as she sleeps and carefully monitors her life-threatening condition through the night. The bichon frise listens out for her – and puts his paw on her chest to wake her when her breathing stops.

December 2009:
Dog Saves Owner’s Life By Spotting Cancer
Paula Bockman-Chato, of Kellyville, Australia, had first believed that the constant sniffing and nuzzling under her arm by her beloved saluki Kaspar was just the dog being affectionate. But that was until a medical check revealed early signs of lymph node cancer in the very spot that had attracted Kaspar’s attention. While Bockman-Chato’s story is remarkable, it is not uncommon. Scientific research has now confirmed what was long anecdotally believed — dogs are highly successful in sniffing out cancer in humans, thanks to their incredible sense of smell.

September 2008:
Dog saves owner by calling 911
Joe Stalnaker adopted German shepherd Buddy as an eight-week-puppy and trained him to use the phone if he began to have an attack. Mr Stalnaker, of Scottsdale, Arizona, has suffered seizures for ten years after suffering a head injury during a military training exercise. So when he got into difficulties, Buddy knew exactly what to do – hit the speed-dial button on the phone for 911. See also a video about Buddy.

March 2007:
Dog saves owner with modified Heimlich
Debbie Parkhurst, 45, of Calvert told the Cecil Whig newspaper she was eating an apple at her home Friday when a piece lodged in her throat. She attempted to perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself but it didn’t work. After she began beating on her chest, she said Toby noticed and got involved.
“The next think I know, Toby’s up on his hind feet and he’s got his front paws on my shoulders,” she recalled. “He pushed me to the ground, and once I was on my back, he began jumping up and down on my chest.”
 

August 2003:
Injured Dog Amazes By Taking Self To Vet
The 6-year-old dog, Scooby, ran away from his owners when his collar ring snapped during a recent thunderstorm. As he was running across a road a vehicle hit him, injuring his leg and tail.
Scooby then somehow walked miles to a local animal clinic and was waiting on the doorstep when employees arrived for work.
“He obviously knew this was the place to get help,” Scooby’s owner Shirley Farris said. “There are subdivisions with hundreds and hundreds of houses between me and the vets office, there are three lanes and there is a mini mall. How he knew to take himself to the vet, I don’t know.”

Of course, many more similar stories and facts can be found. I am sure a lot of you have watched uncanny dog behaviour showing how intelligent our companions actually are.

Taken from mysmelly.com ‘Dog Intelligence: Amazing Stories Speak for Themselves.’  Read post … http://mysmelly.com/content/dogs/dog-intelligence-amazing-stories-speak-for-themselves.htm

Victoria, Australia. Rescued With Love Inc., is a fully registered not-for-profit organisation. ‘We are a group of foster carers who help rescue unwanted dogs from pounds and shelters. We have all their vet work done and then care for them in our homes, and teach them how to be a loved and well-mannered pet. We then find the best possible home suitable for their needs.’

This site is packed full of information about rescued dogs, stories, videos, links, information and of course – donating and fundraising. Why not pop in and have a look around, drop them a line and open your hearts?… read more about them… http://www.rescuedwithlove.org/

This dog is one of the great escape artists…not bad for the enterprising escape artist…watch You Tube now….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEaFK2v6PbM

There are some weird and funny pet ads around. Doggy Doodles brings to you another You Tube pet commercial with a twist… watch You Tube now.. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IR9FGiUcTik

1. My life is likely to last ten to fifteen years. Any separation from you will he painful for me. Remember that before you buy me.

2. Give me time to understand what you want of me, don’t be impatient, short-tempered, or irritable.

3. Place your trust in me and I will always trust you back. Respect is earned not given as an inalieable right.

4. Don’t be angry at me for long and don’t lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your entertainment and your friends. I have only you.

5. Talk to me sometimes. Even if I don’t understand your words, I understand your voice and your tone, “you only have to look at my tail”.

6. Be aware that however you treat me, I’ll never forget it and if it’s cruel it may affect me forever.

7. Please don’t hit me. I can’t hit back, but I can bite and scratch and I really don’t ever want to do that.

8. Before you scold me for being uncooperative, obstinate or lazy, ask your self if something might be bothering me – perhaps I’m not getting the right food, or I’ve been out in the sun too long, or my heart is getting old and weak.
I may be just dog tired.

9. Take care of me when I get old; you, too, will grow old and may also need love, care, comfort, and attention..

10. Go with me on difficult journeys. Never say, “I can’t bear to watch it, or, “Let it happen in my absence.”

Everything is easier for me if you are there. Remember, irrespective of what you do I will always love you.

Taken from ‘The Ten Commandments, A Pet’s Point of View’ by Stan Rawlinson 1993. (dog behaviourist and obedience trainer) http://www.wolfweb.com.au/acd/tencommandments.htm

Doggy dancing….Doggy Doodles will search the globe…and You Tube, for some fancy doggy tricks, including some fancy dancing…check out the following You Tube clip….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eM5mBHZ6xI

It was September 21, 2001, and I was fourteen years old. It was rainy and nasty, and I was, as always, sitting inside my apartment reading and waiting for my best friend to show up so I’d have something to do. But, she brought a lot more with her then just her company that day.

She came knocking on my door, and when I opened it she was cooing and aww-ing over a stray she that followed her from her house to my house. Now, I’ve always had a soft spot for animals, and I love strays the most. So she took me down the steps, and there was this tiny, mud covered, sick little Shih Tzu. He was, as close as we could guess, about two or three months old.

He was a truly pitiful sight- he had almost no fur, only small patches off it, with opens welts and sores all over him, covered in all kinds of bugs, and so starved you could count every bone in his tiny little body. And even though he was so sick and weak he managed to wag his tail and come over to me, which broke my heart and sealed the deal as far as I was concerned.

I brought him up the deck, practically bawling at the pitiful little figure he created, and knew I had to have him. I’d never been able to have an inside dog before, because my mother and I had lived with our grandparents and my grandfather hated inside dogs. So I went inside, crying begging, and though I know mom hated to see me like she was going to try not to give in.

But then she went outside onto the deck, and there he was, wagging his tail weakly, hardly able to move, and mom said, “Callista Jolene, we’ll keep him till he’s better but no longer then, do you understand?”

It took a long time to nurse him back to health, he was in such a state. But from the very beginning I loved him more then anything. We named him Flea, because of all the bugs he had on him, and he became the center of my life. The time slot that mom had given me to keep him, two weeks to a month, soon turned into two months, then three months, and after that there was no way we could get ride of the tiny bundle of love that was my baby boy, Flea.

Now, I have always been a very sick person, and had just gotten over my first bout with mono when we got him. I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and was taken out of school. I became depressed, and wanted to nothing but eat and sleep.

But Flea…I can’t even describe it. He made me happy, and though it is probably a stupid thing to say, he is the only thing that kept me sane then. Had it not been for that dog, I am quite sure that I would not be here today.

I’m seventeen now, and Flea is still with us. He’s spoiled rotten, and has never really grew out of his puppy phase. I love him with all my heart, and I know he loves me.

Writing this I cannot keep myself from crying, because I know that if it wasn’t for him that I wouldn’t have anything in my life. He might just be a dog to most people, but to me is a little angle inside a dog’s body.

I look at it like this-I saved his life when he needed me the most, and now he saves my life every day.

Taken from… ‘My Saving Grace’ http://dogs.about.com/library/various/blucsavinggrace.htm

Our family dog started failing a couple of months ago. Her serious health problems began at about the same time I was coping with my own — finishing my radiation and hormone therapy for prostate cancer.

Since last summer, I’ve learned that my cancer is shockingly aggressive, and the surgery, radiation and hormone treatments have left me exhausted, incontinent and with an AWOL libido. These days I’m waiting for the first tests that will tell me the status of my health.

Even so, as I face my own profound health issues, it is my dog’s poor health that is piercing me to the heart. I’m dreading that morning when I walk downstairs and … well, those of us who love dogs understand that all dog stories end the same way.

Her full name is Bijou de Minuit (Jewel of Midnight) — my wife teaches French. She is a 12-year-old black miniature poodle, and she is, literally, on her last legs. Her hind quarters fly out from beneath her, her back creaks and cracks as she walks, she limps, she’s speckled with bright red warts the size of nickels, her snore is loud and labored (like a freight train chugging up some steep grade) and she spends most of the day drowsing on her pillow-bed next to the kitchen radiator.

Bijou’s medicine chest is impressive for a 23-pound dog: A baby dose of amoxicillin for chronic urinary tract infections; prednisone and Tramadol for pain; phenobarbital for seizures; Proin for incontinence – all of it wrapped in mini-slices of pepperoni.

She is, I realize, “just” a dog. But she has, nonetheless, taught me a few lessons about life, living and illness. Despite all her troubles, Bijou is still game. She still groans to her feet to go outside, still barks at and with the neighborhood dogs, is willing to hobble around the kitchen to carouse with a rubber ball — her shrub of a tail quivering in joy.

I know now that Bijou was an important part of my therapy as I recovered from having my prostate removed. I learned that dogs, besides being pets, can also be our teachers.

Human beings constantly struggle to live in the moment. We’re either obsessing over the past (“Gee, life would’ve been different if I’d only joined the Peace Corps.”), or obsessing over the future (“Gee, I hope my 401K holds up”). We forget that life, real life, is lived right now, in this very moment.

But living in the moment is something that dogs (and cancer patients) do by their very nature. Bijou eats when she’s hungry, drinks when she’s thirsty, sleeps when she’s tired and will still gratefully curl up in whatever swatch of sunlight steals through the windows.

She’d jump up onto my sickbed last summer, nuzzle me and ask for her ears and pointy snout to be scratched. It made both of us happy as she sighed in satisfaction. And she was the subject of one of our favorite family jokes as I recuperated: “You take the dog out. I have cancer.”

In spending so much time with Bijou, I began to realize that our dogs, in their carefree dogginess, make us more human, force us to shed our narcissistic skins. Even when you have cancer, you can’t be utterly self-involved when you have a floppy-eared mutt who needs to be fed, walked and belly-scratched. And you can’t help but ponder the mysteries of creation as you gaze into the eyes of your dog, or wonder why and how we chose dogs and they chose us.

Dogs also tell us – especially when we’re sick – of our own finitude. And, partly, that’s why we cry when they die, because we also know that all human-being stories end the same way, too.

Good dogs – and most dogs are good dogs – are canine candles that briefly blaze and shine, illuminating our lives. Bijou has been here with us for the past 12 years, reminding us that simple pleasures are the ones to be treasured: a treat, a game of fetch, a nose-to-the-ground stroll in the park.

Simple pleasures. As I lazed and dozed at home last summer after surgery, there was nothing sweeter to me in this world than to hear Bijou drinking from her water dish outside my door. It was if her gentle lap-lapping ferried me to waters of healing. I’ll miss her.

Taken from …New York Times http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/03/31/life-lessons-from-the-family-dog/

David Michael Smith didn’t know much about raising a puppy, but he knew he was ready to learn. He wanted to raise a true companion, and to give the pup all the experiences the world had to offer. He wanted a dog who could go everywhere he would go, and he knew that was going to take some work.

But first he had to find just the right dog.

When he went to look at a litter of Springer spaniel puppies, Erin cried out to him. All of the puppies were yelping and yearning for his attention, but he kept noticing in particular one little bundle of liver and white fur. He took her home that day, and what a match it proved to be.

The first four years of Erin’s life was typical of any dog’s life, playing fetch, wrestling with canine pals, lounging in the sun and, of course, chasing squirrels. What wasn’t quite typical, however, was Erin’s extraordinarily calm center.

David was offered a job in Germany and found a way to bring Erin along. For 18 months David took Erin everywhere he went, and she sniffed her way across a dozen countries. She took an Amsterdam canal boat tour, frolicked in the Swiss Alps, walked in the footsteps of Alexander the Great in Pella, Greece, strolled the Heidelberg Christmas market, and wandered the World War I battlefields of Verdun, France.

When David’s job ended, so did Erin’s adventures in Western Europe. But that turned out to be just fine, because the best was yet to come.

Erin was 5 years old when David realized she would be a wonderful therapy dog. Obedient and possessed of an extraordinarily even temperament, friendly demeanor and a loving, comforting nature, Erin had all the traits of a successful service animal. The certification tests posed little challenge and Erin’s stint as a therapy dog was under way.

Hospice work was Erin’s first job. She visited the terminally ill, adults and children alike.

Erin had an uncanny ability to disarm most people who encountered her. Gazing into her soulful, gentle eyes, even people who might not be that comfortable with dogs fell in love.

Among those she converted included the congregation of a major Savannah church, who permitted Erin to join the congregation for the morning service. She laid on the floor beside David’s feet, and often took a nap. The folks who went to church with Erin didn’t mind.

Erin’s church duties expanded; she became a door greeter, and she even had a short stint working with the children’s worship program.

David was approached with the idea of letting her appear on stage in a production of “The Miracle Worker.” The drama department heard about Erin through the grapevine, contacted David and arranged an audition. She won the role of “Belle,” the Keller family dog.

After each performance, when the cast lined up to greet the audience, Erin was right there alongside her co-stars. Hundreds of people filed by to pet her or pay a compliment.

On Aug. 16, David lost his companion Erin, who passed away from complications of diabetes. His friends and family gathered around him, and his Facebook page was covered with wishes for comfort.

David is still struggling to come to terms with Erin being gone, but he says, “I’m so proud of Erin’s achievements – world traveler, therapy dog, church attendee and stage performer – but I take the most pride in what kind of dog she was inside. It’s hard to imagine a living creature with more affection, loyalty, and passion for life than Erin.”

Posted on Savanah Now.com…http://savannahnow.com/closeups/2010-09-15/remembering-charmed-life-erin-springer-spaniel

Story link to http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Have-A-Dog/20039

Wyatt is a medium sized dog.  He is a black and white mixed breed.  I adopted him from a shelter when he was a puppy.  Groomers and vets have told me they suspect he is part schnauzer and part terrier.  He loves to eat any kind of food that comes from a noisy bag.  You can even put regular dog food in a rattly bag and he thinks it is a treat.  He is housebroken.  He can sit, lay down, and roll over.  About four years ago, when Wyatt was just 3 years old, I was at a the lowest point I had ever been in my life.  After much anguish and heartache, I had decided to take my own life.
My morning started out just like all my other mornings had been starting out.  Bleak.  I took Wyatt to the vet to get him squared away with vaccinations and stuff so that no one would have to worry about that and so that he would be ok without me for a while.  I came home and played with him a little, we took a nap, and when we woke up, I began to write goodbye letters to family and friends.  I was also to go eat with a friend that evening.  I planned to go eat, and then come home and overdose on all the medication that I had accumulated.  But Wyatt had other plans for me.  As I was finishing up the last letter, one to my parents, Wyatt began to breathe funny.  He jumped up from his bed and started walking around, looking for his water bowl, and struggling to breathe.  I went and sat down on the floor next to him and noticed that his head had begun to swell.  It was more than 3 times its normal size.  I called the vet who was open late only one night during the week.  Luckily for me it was that night.  He told me that Wyatt was probably having an allergic reaction to a part of his vaccine and that I should bring him in right away.  A friend rushed us to the vet as large red welts began to develop on Wyatt’s tummy.  We got there just in time.  They had to shave Wyatt’s legs and start an IV.  It had been an allergic reaction to part of his vaccine.  I loved Wyatt so much and he was the only thing I felt I had at that time and so I was so grateful that they had saved his life.  The vet told me Wyatt was lucky to have such a concerned mom. That made me realize that even though I was at the end of my rope, I still had Wyatt, and he still needed me.  I struggled with depression for a few more months before my life began to turn around.  But I owe my life to Wyatt and I have spent every day since that night trying to show him how special he is to me.

I wasn’t happy when my grandmother came to live with us when my grandfather passed away. I loved my grandmother, but I was just a kid. I had to give up my room and my bed and sleep in Mum and Dad’s room, with no possibility of return.

The only upside to the situation at the time, was that my grandmother brought her dog, Angel, with her as well. Now this was something that I could deal with, and having a dog to play with took my mind off the fact that I had absolutely no privacy and no space of my own.

After a while I got used to having my gran around, and we would go for walks together to the shops. I started to look forward to this for two reasons, it got me out of the house and away from my brother, and gran always bought me a milkshake. I would always leave some in the bottom of the container and rip it open so that Angel could share it with me. We’d sit on the front step of the grocery store in vanilla bliss while gran went off to buy her usual newspaper and loaf of bread.

When gran went off on holiday, I was in charge of Angel’s welfare. I was in heaven. Not only did I have my old bed back, I had my ‘own dog’ to sleep on my feet at night. I’m pretty sure Angel enjoyed it too, and cried at the door to get in with me after gran returned. There were a few times after that when I was found fast asleep on the lounge with Angel sleeping on my feet. My childhood had it’s ups and downs, but I had the love of a dog – what more could I want?

Angel and I grew older and eventually Mum and Dad sold the house and moved north. Gran went to live at the beach and took Angel with her. I missed her a lot for a long time, and we moved to a place were I couldn’t have another dog, although I had my own room. I would have gladly shared a room again just to have Angel with me.

I left home at sixteen and went to live with my Gran for a while. It was like a homecoming. We were together again. We’d go to the beach and stop off at the shops on the way home for a vanilla milkshake.  I’d just settled into a routine when Angel passed away. We had grown up together and were the same age. Unfortunately sixteen in dog years is a very long life.  I was devastated.

Angel came along at a time when I was a shy lonely child. She made my loneliness more bearable, which allowed me to grow and experience life differently to what might have been. I was able to express my love to another living creature, and not be afraid. Angel accepted me for what I was, and I was happy. I will never forget my beautiful Angel girl.

MEMPHIS – Wherever 15-year-old Blac Hughes goes, his dog Snap is right by his side.

Snap is more than just Blac’s new best friend; he is a lifesaver for the teen, who pronounces his name “Blake.”

Snap, a boxer-golden-retriever mix, is a medic-alert dog bought by Blac’s family in June to monitor the diabetic teen’s blood-sugar level.

The family has had no trouble adapting to Snap, but the same cannot be said of some area restaurants and stores that have not been as welcoming to the service dog.

“We were told by one restaurant that unless he was a seeing-eye dog, he could not come into the business,” said Blac’s mother, Delores Church. “After I told them they were violating state and federal laws, they let us in, but they made us come through the back door and put us in a separate part of the restaurant.”

That’s why Church is out to raise public awareness about medic-alert dogs.

“I know some people aren’t dog people, but Snap is more than just a dog. He can save my son’s life,” Church said. “Wherever we go, we are happy to explain what Snap does for my son.”

When Blac’s blood-sugar level changes, Snap has been trained to literally smell the difference.

“Everyone has a unique scent, and Snap can detect the scent changes when Blac’s blood-sugar level drops,” said Church.

The first night the family brought him home, Snap alerted Church that Blac’s blood-sugar level had changed.

“It was the middle of the night and he came into our bedroom and put his head on the bed to let me know something wasn’t right with Blac,” she said. “And sure enough, when I went into his room, his blood-sugar level was extremely low.”

Snap will also alert Blac when his blood-sugar level is not stable. When he does, Blac rewards him with a treat.

Snap was purchased from the nonprofit group Canine Assistance Rehabilitation Education and Services in Concordia, Kan. The group begins training dogs like Snap when they are 6 to 8 weeks old. By the time they are 18 months old like Snap, they are ready to serve people with seizures or diabetes.

Blac and Snap are inseparable. When school starts, Snap will be attending high school with Blac.

“If I need help, Snap is right there for me,” Blac said. “He is a good boy, and we will be together for a long time, and I am grateful to have him.”

Story sourced from knoxnews.com

    http://www.knoxnews.com/news/2010/aug/09/dog-more-than-pet-to-diabetic-teen/

I remember with fondness the first dog I ever owned, a beautiful black German Shepherd that I named Nishka. Her exotic name suited her looks – she was pure black – unusual for her breed, but she was all Shepherd, that was for sure. Nishka was my first ‘official’ animal companion. I’d looked after my grandmother’s dog, Angel, when I was growing up, but Angel wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t my feet that Angel slept on at night.

I’d always wanted my own dog, so as soon as I left home, I went and got myself one. I loved her right after she waddled up to me at the kennel and sat at my feet – she’d made her choice, and I’d made mine.  Nishka was my symbol of  freedom as a young adult to do what I pleased and take responsibility for another life besides my own. I got my licence soon after, and Nishka and I set off to travel around the country, state by state -working and living where we could. I took care of the living arrangements and the food, while Nishka took care of security and health and wellbeing. There wasn’t a guy who was willing to come within cooee of me with Nishka around, without her permission. I got to enjoy a life without fear, and the regularity of some very enjoyable early morning  runs along the beach.

Nishka and I did everything together, we travelled, we camped out, we  had fun and got a little older. There weren’t many tough times, we were still young and immortal, and life was sweet.

We moved around a lot, but we finally settled on the coast when my brother got a house on the beach. I couldn’t resist – more days to laze in the sunshine and run in the sand. I bought a pushbike and Nishka loped beside me as I rode to the shops. I rollerskated down the main drag in the Summer with Nishka, darting in and out of the palm trees along the boulevard while  the  Japanese tourists snapped away.  We enjoyed our celebrity for a while until I returned to work in the Winter, and we stayed indoors. The beach runs were limited to two or three a week as I became immersed in my new routine. I bought myself a big double bed and Nishka took up residence on ‘her half’ when I was at work, and on my feet when I was in it. Life was still good, although it had changed. We had become more sedentary, and I’m sure that Nishka missed her regular beach sessions. I had promised her we’d make a new start the following Summer.

Three weeks shy of the new Summer I returned from work to find my brother in tears. He had left the side gate open by mistake, and Nishka had gotten out, probably looking for me for a run.  He had found her body in front of our house. She had been hit by a car, and been left for dead. My life  had changed in an instant, and would never be the same. I had lost my best friend and my first love. My one true companion who would never do me wrong.

We buried Nishka in the backyard. I sat by her grave every afternoon for weeks, missing her and wishing that I could change the past and make the pain go away. Eventually I quit my job and moved away. I couldn’t take the sadness anymore. After a long while I moved on emotionally too, but I have never forgotten her. Nishka taught me the value of life, and the fickleness of death.  I try not to waste my life too much these days.

I have been fortunate enough to have known some beautiful animal companions in my life, and each one has had their own unique personality. Each loss that I have suffered is another little piece gone from my heart. Nishka was a part of my life story, and she always will be. I hope we will see each other again one day. It would be nice to go for that run on the beach that I promised her all those years ago.

I sat on my front veranda and watched the children play in the park. After a while they all went home and a man in a  black ute pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. I watched as he went around to the other side of the car. A little black dog bounced out of the open door, and danced around his feet in excitement, obviously happy to be out and about, and going for a walk. Well, that was my assumption anyway, a lot of people come here to run around with their ‘best friends’ , just for the fun of it. Everybody has a good time and nobody gets hurt.

I watched the man as he walked to a big tree, his little friend following closely behind, jumping up and down and circling in excitement. The man made no attempt to pat his friend, and stared off into the distance for a while before he turned and ran back to the ute. His little friend ran beside him, but the man didn’t lift her into the ute, instead he drove out of the carpark onto the main road. His friend yapped frantically and ran after the ute, almost getting run down by another car coming the other way.

I stared after the ute in disbelief. The little dog returned to the tree and sniffed at  its base, then sat down and started to howl. She cried for a while and then she sat still, looking off into the distance, waiting for her friend to return. I cried too, for this little girl who’s ‘best friend’ had left her without a care, to fend for herself or die. I filled a bowl of water and another with some dry food that I had for my sister’s pug. I took it over to her, but she shrank away from me, her eyes full of fear and apprehension. I left her to it and waited to see what would happen.

She sat there all night. It rained and the wind howled all night too. I barely slept a wink, and would peek through the curtains to check up on her at regular intervals. She was always there, sitting in the rain and looking down the road in hope. She was still there in the morning. A few children walked past and tried to tempt her with a few tidbits, but she wouldn’t go near them. After the third day I decided that it was time to get her some help, I couldn’t take it anymore.

We managed to get her to the vets, my sister and I, after much patience, enticement, and a friendly little pug dog who did his best to make a new friend out of Ruby. Yes…I already had a name for this poor bedraggled little creature, who up until now, probably didn’t have a friend in the world.

Ruby had the typical problems that a dog who had suffered from neglect would. The vet fixed up the worms and fleas and checked her blood to make sure she didn’t have any heartworm. He also desexed and vaccinated her before giving her a clean bill of health. My sister and I took her home and gave her a good bath and her first decent meal. 

It took a while to undo all the wrong that was done to my best friend, Ruby, but it was worth it. I now am the proud mother of a wonderful and loving fur-kid, who loves to play with and tease Max, the pug. She has her own bed, but generally sleeps on the bed or the lounge. She has a coat for the cold weather and airconditioning for the hot weather. She loves to run in the park too, but she likes to get to the car first when we are leaving. I can’t say I blame her for that, but I will never leave her, and I feel a little sorry for her former best friend. He has missed out on so much. But then again, my best friend and I are much better off because of it.

SANTA CRUZ — Two 12-week-old puppies, now at the Santa Cruz County SPCA, have a horrible tale to tell, according to Executive Director Lisa Carter.

“A moving van was leaving Madera County at a fast rate of speed when a car following the van witnessed in horror two small puppies being tossed out the window of the van,” Carter said.

The car stopped to aid the terrified puppies, who were uninjured.

These two Australian shepherd sisters, Chrissie and Couee, are recovering at the Santa Cruz SPCA, where they are warm, fed and loved and have become shelter favorites, Carter said.

Australian shepherds are very active, great family dogs and make wonderful running partners, love to hike and are excellent agility winners, she said.

The Santa Cruz SPCA’s adoption package for dogs and cats includes spay/neuter, vaccinations, micro-chipping, an ID tag, collar, a free health exam with a licensed veterinarian, one month’s free health insurance, discounted crate purchase and other animal care materials.

For information, call the Santa Cruz SPCA at 465-5000, or visit www.santacruzspca.org. The SPCA is at 2685 Chanticleer Ave. in Santa Cruz and is open 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday.

Sourced from: Santa Cruz Sentinel  Read source…

http://www.santacruzsentinel.com/ci_15592141?source=most_viewed

Welcome to a new category for Doggy Doodles. In this category I will collect and contribute animal stories from all over the world that may not fall into the animal news categories, which may be funny, sad, happy or heartwarming. I hope that you enjoy my new category and will be happy to comment or contribute with your own ideas or stories along the way.