I love to read about sweet relationships between dogs and their people..... My husband is lying in his hospice bed, talking to our dogs who have gone on before us....an everlasting relationship. I really believe they're waiting on him!
Debbie, kudos to you for having Hospice for your honey. He's looking forward to romping with his furry friends in those Elysian Fields. Bless your heart.
That visit to the vets office is one of the hardest decisions a person can make. But you will make it if you truly love your best friend. Be thankful you had the time with your buddy as long as you did
Oh, Sean - you've done it to me again. We lost our 10-year-old lab, sweet soul Saul, a month ago, and this column has me blubbering. You have the ability to start my day with either laughter or leaky eyes. I also am so glad she told you about her baby and that she finds the comfort she needs. And I'm so glad you passed her story along to us - you did it beautifully.
Whatever animal or even all animals, God places that particular passion in our hearts. We were meant to be their caregivers whether in our homes, in the jungle or in the forest.
Our pets live in the moment, always with a good attitude. They love unconditionally and liberally and are so fiercely loyal any grievance is soon forgiven. They make us laugh with abandoned silliness. They sense and soothe us in illness or heartache. Mankind would do well to learn from their pets. Their highest gift calls us to examine ourselves and to do better.
Bless all the rescuers. Spay and neuter, please.
May the owner be comforted in knowing she gave O Henry a wonderful life.
“An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language.” ~ Martin Buber
I’m sitting here with Patch at my feet. I’m 77 and he’s 4. As a skinny little pup, he was found on the roadside on July 3 with no food or water and no hope. We passed him three times before my husband said, “The Good Lord won’t let me into heaven if I don’t get that dog.” And so began a bond I’ve never experienced before. DNA says he’s an 80 lb boxer mix but whatever his genetic makeup, he’s my best buddy. Unfortunately, he tore is ACL this past weekend and we are going to spend $5,000 to have it fixed. As my husband said, “I’d rather spend the money on him than on myself.” The devotion that we feel toward Patch is returned to us tenfold. I have no words to express what this dog means to us.
Your article titled “Dog” was so touching. The thoughts of losing Patch are unimaginable. At this point we worry about him outliving us and if there would be someone to love him as much as we do.
Sean, I read your articles everyday. My heart hurts when you hurt and I find joy and happiness when you do. I thank your parents for giving you to people like me.
My Peaches had to be sent to heaven when she was 14 because of cancer and I couldn't bear the thought of her in pain any longer. Her boyfriend, Cleatus, lived for another year. I was trying to keep his sprits up after the loss of Peaches but I came home from the store one day and he was laying under a tree waiting on me. I held his head up as he took his last breath and he was gone at 12 years old. They were both English Bulldogs and they were a blast to have around the house.
My nephew said when we lost 2 of our elder dogs within a few months of each other..... “the only thing wrong with dogs.... is they don’t outlive us.” Hugs to the girl who wrote you... and hope she gets another one soon. 💙
My coonhound Jack lived to be 20. Best friend ever. He stood with the groomsmen at my 2nd wedding. I have 2 now, Oscar Mayer & Zeus, (AKA Bruce). They're not Jack, not by far, but I'll always have one. Or two. Or three.
No fair, dude. I am sitting here crying and it's 6:45 AM. My first dog as an adult was named Mason. When his time came, we took him to the vet, and he did us the favor of sparing us the guilt and $300 by dying in my arms before he got injected. I loved him so much. Now I have a different dog who I love (who couldn't be more different) named Charley, after Steinbeck's dog. I weep for O. Henry's owner. She got 19 wonderful years with someone, and he gave her his life. "A dog is a part of your life, but you are everything to a dog's life."
My dog Zeke we got when on a Sunday drive saw a sign help, mamma ran away, free puppies!
I picked the cutest racoon faced pup, but my 4 year old son was on the way to the old orange truck with not as cute looking pup. So I put the cute one back with the group of 12 pups. Well this pup became like my son's brother, Zeke would pick up his toys put them away every night when my son put his toys away. He went through everything with us as a lil family.
When it was his time to fly the rainbow bridge at 17 we had a BBQ my folks came out the vet came out we dug a big hole with my Dad's tractor got his favorite blanket and toy after he had ate anything he wanted , he was laid to rest in the back yard.
Oh Sean, that was very nice and so relatable. I don’t understand a human who can’t relate to this. The thought of that is very sad to me. Allergies to cats or dogs would be allergies to peace on earth and good will to all for me. Not good at all.
I love dogs and have loved many. I do have a particular affinity for cats though and fond memories of all the cats and dogs I’ve ever had.
When I had my eye on my future husband, we were getting to know each other, even though I already “knew” the moment I laid eyes on him that he was “it.” We had agreed to attend our Command Dining Out together, which is a military formal dinner with all sorts of protocols and traditions. I suggested meeting him there and he said, “Nothing doing. We’ll have a drink first. Your house is on the way. I’ll be at your house at 5.” He always was sort of bossy, but short observation revealed that he has good ideas. On top of that, he’s a Marine. My dear ol’ Dad (also a Marine) always said, “Arguing with a Marine is like arguing with a stump.” Very true; it’s a waste of time. On top of all that, I was crazy in love with this really cute guy. Anyway, I didn’t want to tarry in my house. I had two cats at the time - solid black Lucky (what else do you name a solid black cat?) and Molly, an impossibly fluffy white longhair whose naming is a whole other good story. Anyway, the symmetry of my two kitties pleased me very much, but they were devastating to my uniforms. They would catch the idea that I was leaving them and yowl pitifully as they stropped my legs and sat on my lap or shoulders. Their hair would deposit itself untidily all over my theretofore impeccable uniforms and was a constant battle. I did not want to subject my Sweetheart to this messy fallout of having my adorable kitties. I would meet him at the door, push my way outside, and insist on immediate departure.
I was all dressed and ready, sitting at my dining room table where I could watch for his arrival. My kitties were onto me, madly yowling and both trying to stay as close to me as possible. I had on my formal blouse, tie, and jacket. Hair and makeup as good as I could get it. I had my pantyhose and pumps on. My black ankle-length skirt was folded neatly over the chair opposite to foil my cats from ruining it.
I saw his car pull up on the tick of our agreed meeting time. I jumped up and into my skirt like a fireman, noisily scatting my unhappy kitties as I grabbed my purse and opened the door.
Ohmagosh. There was my date in those Marine Corps Dress Blues that look so great. He was holding a rose and a bottle of champagne. My knees went wobbly forever. I totally forgot my purpose and showed him in. I got down champagne glasses and he poured the champagne. I went to sit at the dining table, but he said, “Let’s sit on the sofa.”
I came back to my purpose and said, “No! These cats are hair machines and will trash our uniforms!”
He ignored me and led the way to the sofa where we toasted each other and settled into a lovely chat. In a few short minutes, Lucky, the black one, jumped onto the sofa and snuggled up beside me. I didn’t panic - he was black and so was my skirt. I was mildly concerned at how many white cat hairs would be on the back of my skirt when I got up, but tried to shrug it off. Suddenly Molly, the fluffy white one, jumped onto my future husband’s lap. Ack! I was speechless. Molly was shy and I had become unconcerned with his direct contact with my Marine’s dress blues. My companion laughed and said, “I think your cat likes me,” as Molly curled up and made himself completely comfortable on my date’s lap with a very loud purr. Good Heavens! I was still unable to form words. My future husband went on saying, “I like dogs. I never liked cats.”
I pointed out, “With cats, you don’t get to say. You’re not in charge of that.” I had never seen Molly warm up to anyone so quickly, but Molly looked likely to stay in his lap indefinitely. As time to go arrived, I fussed over lint brushes and attempts to eradicate the ridiculous amount of cat hair that covered us. He shut that down, put out his arm to escort me and off we went to the ball.
It was a “love me, love my cats” moment, only as I’d told him, we’re not in charge of that. My kitties chose him, I was not consulted.
I feel so sorry for people that don’t have similar human/pet interactions and memories. They still make my world go around. Every morning, Buttercup (our current lap-warmer) has a serious back and forth conversation with my husband (the guy who said he didn’t like cats?) about breakfast. For the two of them, it’s an important conversation and important start to their day. It makes my heart go all squishy.
Yes. My beloved greyhound came to me 8 years ago as a therapy dog to help with my deep depression. He is now fighting lymphoma & living the best life I can possibly give him until the day he is called. There is no greater bond. I saved him from the track & he saved me from myself. How can you bottle that devotion?
I love to read about sweet relationships between dogs and their people..... My husband is lying in his hospice bed, talking to our dogs who have gone on before us....an everlasting relationship. I really believe they're waiting on him!
Debbie, kudos to you for having Hospice for your honey. He's looking forward to romping with his furry friends in those Elysian Fields. Bless your heart.
That visit to the vets office is one of the hardest decisions a person can make. But you will make it if you truly love your best friend. Be thankful you had the time with your buddy as long as you did
So true.
Oh, Sean - you've done it to me again. We lost our 10-year-old lab, sweet soul Saul, a month ago, and this column has me blubbering. You have the ability to start my day with either laughter or leaky eyes. I also am so glad she told you about her baby and that she finds the comfort she needs. And I'm so glad you passed her story along to us - you did it beautifully.
Whatever animal or even all animals, God places that particular passion in our hearts. We were meant to be their caregivers whether in our homes, in the jungle or in the forest.
Our pets live in the moment, always with a good attitude. They love unconditionally and liberally and are so fiercely loyal any grievance is soon forgiven. They make us laugh with abandoned silliness. They sense and soothe us in illness or heartache. Mankind would do well to learn from their pets. Their highest gift calls us to examine ourselves and to do better.
Bless all the rescuers. Spay and neuter, please.
May the owner be comforted in knowing she gave O Henry a wonderful life.
“An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language.” ~ Martin Buber
I’m sitting here with Patch at my feet. I’m 77 and he’s 4. As a skinny little pup, he was found on the roadside on July 3 with no food or water and no hope. We passed him three times before my husband said, “The Good Lord won’t let me into heaven if I don’t get that dog.” And so began a bond I’ve never experienced before. DNA says he’s an 80 lb boxer mix but whatever his genetic makeup, he’s my best buddy. Unfortunately, he tore is ACL this past weekend and we are going to spend $5,000 to have it fixed. As my husband said, “I’d rather spend the money on him than on myself.” The devotion that we feel toward Patch is returned to us tenfold. I have no words to express what this dog means to us.
Your article titled “Dog” was so touching. The thoughts of losing Patch are unimaginable. At this point we worry about him outliving us and if there would be someone to love him as much as we do.
Sean, I read your articles everyday. My heart hurts when you hurt and I find joy and happiness when you do. I thank your parents for giving you to people like me.
My Peaches had to be sent to heaven when she was 14 because of cancer and I couldn't bear the thought of her in pain any longer. Her boyfriend, Cleatus, lived for another year. I was trying to keep his sprits up after the loss of Peaches but I came home from the store one day and he was laying under a tree waiting on me. I held his head up as he took his last breath and he was gone at 12 years old. They were both English Bulldogs and they were a blast to have around the house.
We lost our 14 yr old baby, too, to cancer. It's hard, yeah.
Beautiful! I cry again for the wonderful dogs I have had and lost and for the woman who is missing O.Henry today! 19 years is so awesome!
My nephew said when we lost 2 of our elder dogs within a few months of each other..... “the only thing wrong with dogs.... is they don’t outlive us.” Hugs to the girl who wrote you... and hope she gets another one soon. 💙
My coonhound Jack lived to be 20. Best friend ever. He stood with the groomsmen at my 2nd wedding. I have 2 now, Oscar Mayer & Zeus, (AKA Bruce). They're not Jack, not by far, but I'll always have one. Or two. Or three.
No fair, dude. I am sitting here crying and it's 6:45 AM. My first dog as an adult was named Mason. When his time came, we took him to the vet, and he did us the favor of sparing us the guilt and $300 by dying in my arms before he got injected. I loved him so much. Now I have a different dog who I love (who couldn't be more different) named Charley, after Steinbeck's dog. I weep for O. Henry's owner. She got 19 wonderful years with someone, and he gave her his life. "A dog is a part of your life, but you are everything to a dog's life."
I understand.
Thank you💔❣️
My dog Zeke we got when on a Sunday drive saw a sign help, mamma ran away, free puppies!
I picked the cutest racoon faced pup, but my 4 year old son was on the way to the old orange truck with not as cute looking pup. So I put the cute one back with the group of 12 pups. Well this pup became like my son's brother, Zeke would pick up his toys put them away every night when my son put his toys away. He went through everything with us as a lil family.
When it was his time to fly the rainbow bridge at 17 we had a BBQ my folks came out the vet came out we dug a big hole with my Dad's tractor got his favorite blanket and toy after he had ate anything he wanted , he was laid to rest in the back yard.
I miss him 💔
I can’t imagine life without dogs….God must really love us!
Oh Sean, that was very nice and so relatable. I don’t understand a human who can’t relate to this. The thought of that is very sad to me. Allergies to cats or dogs would be allergies to peace on earth and good will to all for me. Not good at all.
I love dogs and have loved many. I do have a particular affinity for cats though and fond memories of all the cats and dogs I’ve ever had.
When I had my eye on my future husband, we were getting to know each other, even though I already “knew” the moment I laid eyes on him that he was “it.” We had agreed to attend our Command Dining Out together, which is a military formal dinner with all sorts of protocols and traditions. I suggested meeting him there and he said, “Nothing doing. We’ll have a drink first. Your house is on the way. I’ll be at your house at 5.” He always was sort of bossy, but short observation revealed that he has good ideas. On top of that, he’s a Marine. My dear ol’ Dad (also a Marine) always said, “Arguing with a Marine is like arguing with a stump.” Very true; it’s a waste of time. On top of all that, I was crazy in love with this really cute guy. Anyway, I didn’t want to tarry in my house. I had two cats at the time - solid black Lucky (what else do you name a solid black cat?) and Molly, an impossibly fluffy white longhair whose naming is a whole other good story. Anyway, the symmetry of my two kitties pleased me very much, but they were devastating to my uniforms. They would catch the idea that I was leaving them and yowl pitifully as they stropped my legs and sat on my lap or shoulders. Their hair would deposit itself untidily all over my theretofore impeccable uniforms and was a constant battle. I did not want to subject my Sweetheart to this messy fallout of having my adorable kitties. I would meet him at the door, push my way outside, and insist on immediate departure.
I was all dressed and ready, sitting at my dining room table where I could watch for his arrival. My kitties were onto me, madly yowling and both trying to stay as close to me as possible. I had on my formal blouse, tie, and jacket. Hair and makeup as good as I could get it. I had my pantyhose and pumps on. My black ankle-length skirt was folded neatly over the chair opposite to foil my cats from ruining it.
I saw his car pull up on the tick of our agreed meeting time. I jumped up and into my skirt like a fireman, noisily scatting my unhappy kitties as I grabbed my purse and opened the door.
Ohmagosh. There was my date in those Marine Corps Dress Blues that look so great. He was holding a rose and a bottle of champagne. My knees went wobbly forever. I totally forgot my purpose and showed him in. I got down champagne glasses and he poured the champagne. I went to sit at the dining table, but he said, “Let’s sit on the sofa.”
I came back to my purpose and said, “No! These cats are hair machines and will trash our uniforms!”
He ignored me and led the way to the sofa where we toasted each other and settled into a lovely chat. In a few short minutes, Lucky, the black one, jumped onto the sofa and snuggled up beside me. I didn’t panic - he was black and so was my skirt. I was mildly concerned at how many white cat hairs would be on the back of my skirt when I got up, but tried to shrug it off. Suddenly Molly, the fluffy white one, jumped onto my future husband’s lap. Ack! I was speechless. Molly was shy and I had become unconcerned with his direct contact with my Marine’s dress blues. My companion laughed and said, “I think your cat likes me,” as Molly curled up and made himself completely comfortable on my date’s lap with a very loud purr. Good Heavens! I was still unable to form words. My future husband went on saying, “I like dogs. I never liked cats.”
I pointed out, “With cats, you don’t get to say. You’re not in charge of that.” I had never seen Molly warm up to anyone so quickly, but Molly looked likely to stay in his lap indefinitely. As time to go arrived, I fussed over lint brushes and attempts to eradicate the ridiculous amount of cat hair that covered us. He shut that down, put out his arm to escort me and off we went to the ball.
It was a “love me, love my cats” moment, only as I’d told him, we’re not in charge of that. My kitties chose him, I was not consulted.
I feel so sorry for people that don’t have similar human/pet interactions and memories. They still make my world go around. Every morning, Buttercup (our current lap-warmer) has a serious back and forth conversation with my husband (the guy who said he didn’t like cats?) about breakfast. For the two of them, it’s an important conversation and important start to their day. It makes my heart go all squishy.
We the dog people, animal lovers of the readership know her pain and empathize. If she needs consoling for the day, I have 7 she can commiserate with.
No charge.
Yes. My beloved greyhound came to me 8 years ago as a therapy dog to help with my deep depression. He is now fighting lymphoma & living the best life I can possibly give him until the day he is called. There is no greater bond. I saved him from the track & he saved me from myself. How can you bottle that devotion?