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Posts Tagged ‘rat terrier’

No, this is not about ex-husbands, although I have a couple of them, and one fits the dog category. No, I correct that; he would be an insult to dogs everywhere.  He might make for good blogging someday though. I will let you know when I am willing to share my total stupidity with the world.

 

Dog #1 = LUCKY:

When I was a child, we had a rat terrier who did not like little girls and we had to keep him leashed. I had a cousin who liked to try to hit the dog with a stick and we think that is where his hatred of little girls came from. She occasionally had that affect on people too; although I don’t know of any of them who tried to bite her.

 

However, when my daughter was born, he took a liking to her.

 

Here is Master’s Daughter and Lucky

 

Lucky was my buddy, my confidant and my comfort, when I was young.  But, let any other little girl, especially if she had a high pitched voice, in the yard and he would attack.

 

Dog #2 = Muffin:

 As an adult and mother, the girls and I were putting laundry in the car one day and came out to find a cute, mangy black cockapoo (Cockerspaniel-poodle) sitting by our car. We all gave her pets and then went back for the last of the laundry, leaving the car door open.

 

Yep! You guessed it. On our next trip out, mangy cockapoo was sitting in the back seat. She knew a sucker when she met one, or three. She did not have a collar on and her ribs were sticking out, so we took her home. We watched the paper for days and no one advertised for her.  She turned out to be the best dog in the world.

 

Not too many months after she came to live with us, she delivered a liter of pups. As straggler’s tend to do. She cared for them with all the patience of a long suffering mother; often jumping over the barrier and looking at me with this “DO SOMETHING – it’s your turn” look on her face.

 

 

 

We had a peach tree on the property and Cockapoo loved those peaches. Even when winter froze the ones on the ground, she would come into the house with her head cocked to one side, in an attempt to hide the frozen pear she was sneaking in to eat. She really was not supposed to bring them inside, but we got so we just ignored the fact that she was crunching a pearcicle, in the front room.

 

She had other strange eating habits, for a dog. She loved hot peppers. The first time I was cutting them up, she kept sitting up and begging, until I finally threw her a chunk and she swallowed it down. I thought she would run to her water dish but, she sat and begged for more, and ate them until I was done cutting them up.

 

When she got really hungry and we were not eating things like pears and hot peppers, she would go in the kitchen and grab a mouthful of dog food and then walk on her tippy toe nails, loudly clicking all the way to the dining room, drop the clatter of dog food and chomp each bite loudly until we gave in and gave her some veggies.

 

She lived with us for over seventeen years (I bet her arteries were clean.) I slept on the floor, by her side, the night before she died. I was heartbroken and still miss her.

 

She is buried under her pear tree.

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