Bumper sticker

Saw this bumper sticker in the parking lot at the gym yesterday, and liked it:

Wag more. Bark less.

This approach applies quite nicely to we humans of course; though one adept practitioner of this philosophy is shown in photo below.

Another item laid to rest

On a note somewhat related to the post below, Kelly's ashes were put to rest in a shallow backyard ditch in the evening of August 10, thanks to the ministrations of CPG and EPG. PJ provided brief remarks. Pat kicked some dirt into the ditch. And I got a bug bite during the otherwise unremarkable ceremony. Stern family represented by MB and Mark.

After this brief interruption we returned to Paul Jr.'s birthday dinner.

Kelly was a good dog though provided just a bit less than the Bonneville's 15 years of unreliable service. Her obituaries were written back in 2006 and appear here, here (NMG version) and here (KHG version).

Photos courtesy of NMG. Who seemed to have as much fun with boxed Kelly as with real Kelly.

Couldn't resist, this reminded me of Kelly

(Also reminded me of a certain person who sat in a LaZ-Boy upstairs and crinkled a pretzel bag at the risk of Kelly snapping her neck.)

(Click to enlarge, as always)

(I think - certainly hope - no government funding was used for the Dare County "officials" to figure this out.)

Saying Goodbye to a Fine Friend . . .

We had Kelly put to sleep at 3:30 pm today. Chris, Paul Jr. and Patrick (traveling up from Tucson) stopped by to give her a sad pet-pet earlier in the day, and Patrick and Paul Jr. came to the animal hospital with us (along with Pat and Nedda). Nicole and Kerry were making plans to fly in next weekend, but it wasn’t clear that the little dog could make it that long; and it definitely would have been a miserable, painful week for her if she had. Patricia and I thought it was very dear how all five were willing to make the effort.

Kelly had been slowing down pretty dramatically over the last few months, but was done in by her diet (and no, I don’t mean Nicole’s ProPlan): for some reason, she had started ingesting the little rocks in the back yard landscaping. The X-rays showed over 100 rocks in her stomach and nearly a dozen in her small intestine. Apparently it’s not terribly uncommon for dogs to ingest strange things, including rocks. Anyway, this circumstance was causing all of the bad consequences that you might imagine. At a slowed-down age 14, there really was no decision to make.

But enough on that. I mostly wanted to write that we feel very fortunate to have had such an excellent dog for the family during the years that the kids were growing up. Funny, we never planned on owning a dog. We got the idea because some of the kids in their early years were afraid of dogs, and we thought they might get over the fear by living with a dog. We got that benefit, and much much more.

Patricia had lived with an Airedale terrier in her childhood, and came up with the idea that a Welsh terrier might have the same positive characteristics in a much smaller package. She was right. Clean, quiet, no shedding, great car traveler. Warm, lively personality; easy temperament. Cute; mostly looked and acted like a puppy until the last few months. Excellent health, easy to take care of. Always up for walks, rides, biscuits, the biscuit game, having her nuggets thrown to her, being tennis doggy, chasing “the cat,” wearing the wizard bandana, hiking Lockett’s Meadow, jumping into an impossibly small space and curling up right next to (or on top of) you on the couch or chair, taking her doggie treats and enjoying them in the privacy of the piano area of the living room. Never up for bath, haircut, vacuum cleaner. Couch, chair, beanbag chair, mattress, whatever human furniture: yes; dog bedding: an insult, no way. Nurse Kelly sat by whichever kid had a cut or bruise or just felt down; the musical doggy sat by the piano bench whenever anyone played; the study buddy sat for hours with Patricia as she did her nursing program homework.

And Kelly loved nothing better than to curl up with the five members of her pack (and however many friends were around) for a Kelly sleepover in the back room.

No replacement plans whatever.

Goodbye, Kelly.

Cutting it close

We have fallen into an embarrassingly cheap habit of not paying for Kelly’s dog food. The habit developed because we have “connections” in the pet food business, i.e. our own Nicole, marketing whiz for Nestle’s Purina business in the Chicagoland territory. Our primary (actually only) interface with Nicole’s work is to badger her every now and again for coupons for a free 20-pound bag of Purina’s premium ProPlan dog food (specially formulated for older small dogs) (product info at: http://www.proplan.com/product_detail.aspx?pid=138.)

Kelly is nearing 14 years of age (that’s of course 91 by standard dog-year math), and she looked pretty well used up just a few months ago. But now she seems to have adapted to life with PJ and me, and actually is pretty frisky again.

The problem is that we also fell into the habit of estimating Kelly’s anticipated remaining lifespan in terms of bags of food, instead of years. It once seemed that the current bag would be more than enough, and we didn’t make plans for a replacement bag (in this context, “plans” = hassling Nicole for another coupon). Kelly’s current bag of food is perilously low now, and she shows every sign of outlasting the bag. And Nicole hasn’t yet come through with another coupon.

We’re going to see Nicole for the ASU-USC game the weekend of October 1. Here’s hoping she brings along a coupon. Kelly could be pretty hungry by then.

The photos: one shows Kelly in her current dire circumstances, the other shows her in happier days surrounded by Purina bounty.

Outwitting an old dog (after just 4 months)

OK, so it took awhile. For the first time in her long-ish life, Kelly started barking a few months ago. She sat at the top of the staircase where she had a view out the round window . . . and yapped (incredibly loudly) at anything walking by as soon as daylight hit. With no daylight savings time here, this was pretty early. Ask Chris, who heard the pooch even with his usual complement of fans running in his BR. Maybe that's why he moved out to an apartment? Anyway, note the dark-colored sheet appended to the stair rail by paper clips. No more barking. Kelly still sits up there, possibly waiting for the sheet to disintegrate.