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That Pet Photos thread


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4 hours ago, Zimbra said:

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Bruce went to the vet last week and he's up to 17.5 pounds so somebody's going on a diet.  He's such an adorable little fatty, though.

One of our older cats, Simon, had a seizure a couple of weeks ago, which was terrifying since he jumped up from a dead sleep and ran in circles before he fell down.  He's been fine since and his bloodwork was fine but it's another reminder that he's getting older.  

Bruce is kicking back. Named after Bruce Wayne, right 😉.

Sorry to hear about Simon. Glad he's been fine since.

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On 7/10/2021 at 4:52 AM, The Natural said:

Bruce is kicking back. Named after Bruce Wayne, right 😉.

Sorry to hear about Simon. Glad he's been fine since.

He was Bruce at the shelter and it fit in too well with our incumbent cats' names of James and Simon to change it, so he could be named for Bruce Wayne for all we know.

My wife pointed out the other day that his dump truck ass looks like an elephant's face and now that's all I can see:

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  • 2 weeks later...

No photo description available.

 

This is Poppy. She's a Goldendoodle that my then-seven-year-old daughter got as an end-of-school present by my wife's parents back in 2018. As my wife/her mother was battling breast cancer the first time around, my daughter was understandably confused. Hard to explain any illness to someone who was starting half-day kindergarten when we first learned the diagnosis, but we did our best, explaining that Mom was fighting an "owie" and we needed to be patient, loving and understanding through all this.

Fast-forward to 2018 (about 18 months after the initial diagnosis). Mom is doing better, chemo, radiation and surgeries are done. My daughter starts asking again about having a dog. She loves dogs -- as a toddler, she enjoyed the "Clifford" books and TV shows (from the movie thread -- even as she's grown out of the books, she loved the movie trailer), as well as PAW Patrol, Snoopy and the like. She had stuffed dogs from floor to ceiling. Finally, my wife's parents found a breeder and purchased Poppy (named for a character in "Trolls") for my daughter. 

Unfortunately, my wife passed away in October 2018 after the cancer returned with a vengeance. A lot of things changed after the funeral, with my daughter living temporarily with relatives out West while I handled my wife's estate and affairs and pondered my work future (I temporarily gave up custody given the work hours I had at the time -- it would be impossible for me to be a full-time parent as I was either going to work at 4 a.m. or coming home at 1 a.m.). I also gave Poppy to a neighbor's friends who had lost a dog in a car accident -- again, I couldn't take care of a dog that was six months old at the time given my schedule. 

I miss Poppy, but her new humans update me every once in a while on her progress. She has a new name (Gracie), graduated obedience school with flying colors and is loving life. 

I bring Poppy up because when she joined our family, this was the first time I ever became a dog owner. My parents were not fans of having pets that require a lot of work -- as kids my sister and I were limited to goldfish and an occasional hermit crab. But with my wife never feeling well and my daughter afraid of the dog, I was her companion 99% of the time. And we hit it off well with our walks, play time, feeding time, etc. She was always happy to see me when I got home from work and came downstairs in the morning.

She wasn't part of the family for long, but Poppy was a keeper.

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Thanks for sharing, @colonial. I'm so sorry about your wife and your daughter losing her Mum. Fuck cancer. Dogs give such unconditional love and companionship. Rayven our dog was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer in May this year, it's her 6th birthday next Friday. It's been a really hard time as she's everything to me, my Dad and Sister.

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Not a photo but a tidbit nonetheless:

I live in a ranch-style home.  It's an older one and the A/C is not exactly balanced.  If the upstairs is comfortable, the basement is freezing.  Since we use the basement a lot (my wife & I live down there), we tend to keep the upstairs a little warmer (thermostat is currently on 76).  I mention all this as backstory to explain why I use a box fan all day, every day, when I'm working (I work from home).

Anyway, my black lab has figured out how to adjust the fan so it blows directly on him.  I've got a big round one that tilts.  And, darn near every day, I'll be working and suddenly notice "dang, it's warm in here".  I'll look over and there he is, having bumped the fan - intentionally - so it points down and blows directly on him as he lays on the floor with me.  If it was once or twice, I'd say maybe not intentional.  It's been 40 or 50 times, at least, now.  

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Against the odds, Rayven has made her 6th Birthday today. It's been a day of mixed emotions. Happiness that she's here to see it but knowing there's the terminal cancer. Rayven has a rare and aggressive tumour. The upset part is kicking in more right now. Getting choked up typing this. I can't put into words how much I love the Rayven and what she means to me.

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More on my black lab:

Some background info: I have a recliner that I sit in all the time.  There's a towel on the back of it to protect the upholstery from hair oils.  

My lab, when he wants attention, will come up and put his nose under my hand or wrist and fling it (the hand) to the side and move in closer.  He can be very, very persistent with this.  The other day I'm taking a nap in my recliner and he was nosing at me to get my attention.  I was ignoring him.  He walked around behind the chair, stuck his nose into the towel and flipped it onto my head.  Couldn't help but laugh at that, concede defeat, and take him outside.  

 

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So, a couple of months ago we had to say goodbye to our dog, Chloe. She's the very good girl in my avatar over there. She had developed chronic bronchitis, and we tried pretty much everything that we could to make things better for her. In the end, it just got to be too much. . .more times where she was having trouble getting her breath and that sort of thing, even though she still had plenty of spirit. We let her go because we didn't want her to get any worse. We loved her too damn much to let her get to a point where she was suffering too much. As the saying goes, better a week too early than a day too late.

I was a mess for 2 or 3 days afterwards to the point where I had to take time off from work, and so was my wife. Chloe was basically my wife's shadow for the 12 years that we had her and it was really difficult to let her go. Hell, I still get sad just thinking about it. We both decided that we wouldn't put ourselves through that again.

That lasted about two weeks.

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We got Cali (on the left) and Cuddles over the July 4th weekend. They're sisters and spend most of their time playing and shredding the potty pads that we put down, much to my disgust.

They're awesome and I'm happy as hell that we got them. So, since everyone on FaceBook is informing me that it's National Dog Day, there they are.

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Posted this in the "What's Going On?"  thread when I came back after a fortnight but forgot to here till now:

Hello y'all xxx. Thank you to those who reacted to my post on losing Rayven here and on Facebook. It's appreciated people thinking of you at such a shit time. Thanks again. Paul xxx.

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It's Rayven Clay's Gotcha Day and it's a month exactly since we lost the Rayven taken way too soon, she only turned six in August. Fuck cancer. Rayven was a pretty, laidback, funny dog so loving, so friendly which is why we love and miss her so much. Rayven was more family than the majority of my family, that's how big an impact she had. The first picture is from Rayven's first Gotcha Day in 2015 and her last in 2020.

Edited by The Natural
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May be an image of dog and grass

 

Our beloved black lab, Buddy, crossed the rainbow bridge Saturday at the age of 13. His months of at-times difficult breathing became extremely labored and it was time. We had a mobile vet come to the house and he had a very peaceful, quiet transition.

9-1/2 years ago, we got him and thus began the longest "two weeks" of all-time. We got a call asking us to take him because he had stopped eating and had been given two weeks to live. His previous family was dealing with the impending death of the father and didn't want their kids to have to see Buddy go as well.

Turned out Buddy just hated stress. He came to us and, within minutes, had eaten a giant bowl of food. He came alive instantly, full of an endless supply of energy and always ready to play and love.

He was immediately a momma's boy. My wife Trish was undergoing chemo at the time and Buddy was firmly attached to her, comforting and watching over her during the long days of recovery after treatment.

Me? Not so much. Buddy came to us terrified of men. He soon figured out that I was OK and a bond was formed. A bond that was strengthened through thousands of hours of time outside together.

Eventually Buddy, the dog I didn't even want initially, became "my" dog. Buddy was a peacemaker who absolutely hated for anything to be "wrong". Whether that was a raised voice, a cat needing attention, Buddy needing food or to go out, someone getting a text message, or simply Buddy in pain, he would come to me. These last couple years with me working from home, he's been pretty much glued to me.  He loved everyone but he LOVED me.  We had such a wonderful, close bond, eventually being able to read each other's physical cues.  

Buddy was truly the perfect dog - never barking, never bothering other dogs, able to be outside without a leash, always loving and calm, always ready to play or climb into a lap or lay on the bed.  

We are heartbroken but happy he is no longer in pain.  

He is sorely missed for sure.

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13 minutes ago, gatling said:

I'm sorry for your loss, @Tabe.  It sounds like Buddy was an amazing dog.

Thank you. He really, truly was. It hurts. 

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