On occasion you can drive past a Vet clinic and see a car parked out front, doors open, maybe bedding falling out, and no one in sight. If you go into the clinic you will run into a person clutching a pet to their chest, not willing to relinquish the burden to a tech. That was me today. In stirrup pants (fist thing I found) and a stained sweatshirt. Ratty hair, old Crocs. It’s not an uncommon sight at a clinic, so many of us only worry about dog, keys, car, GO. Hold it together until the techs come to help.
He was a silly dog, handsome but more likely to play than get to work in the show ring. One of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever known, he was friendly to any of the other Salukis except his brother. He purely loved to irritate his brother. Grumpy Old Men, they wore their thirteen years well. Until today when those years came crashing down, and I took Kerovan on his last car ride.
I realize when I got home, this is National Purebred Dog Day. Or as it’s become, National Bash the Greedy Breeders Day by the people who think we do this for the fame, glory, and the big bucks. Yeah, right.
How many of those nasty minded people are next to us when we hold our friends for that last act of caring? How many offer a shoulder as we lose a dog whose main goal in life was to make us happy…and who exceeded that goal every day. Yes we breed and sometimes sell our dogs. We make careful decisions prior to those breedings to ensure their next home has a healthy, friendly, lovely companion for many years to come.
If we were doing this for the big bucks we be total failures. Since few of us are, we have succeeded beyond our wildest expectations.
Hug your dogs, your cats, your horses, young or old. It’s a good day when you can.
6 responses to “National Purebred Dog Day #MFRWAuthor”
My heart breaks for you, Mona. It’s never easy to say good-bye to our beloved fur babies. I’m so sorry for your loss.
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We never get used to it. Not really
Oh Mon. I wish I could give you a great big hug. Been there, done that. Condolences.
He was indeed a very sweet dog. I had the joy of living with him for the first few months of his life. I was so looking forward to seeing him (and his grumpy brother) again next month.
He was very like his mother who was the first sighthound to be allowed to take the Therapy Dog Training Program at the Assistance Dog Institute (and changed the minds of the Institute people about the value of sighthounds.)
I wish he could have gone through that program, too. He would have made a wonderful therapy dog.
I’m so sorry, Monica, but you gave him a wonderful life. In a month I will be giving you the real hugs that I’m giving to you mentally right now.
Monica, I’m so sorry. It always hurts where they leave a big empty spot. Eventually all the great memories take over and the pain of missing them diminishes. They live on in hearts. For some of us, our 4 legged friends are our kids. They’re a part of us and losing one hurts. Hugs. Love you. M.
I’m so sorry. It’s always so hard to lose a child 😦