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kayc

Memories of Arlie

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Kay, your memories of Arlie are precious. This reminds me of Marley and Tatum. I eat in front of the TV with my plate on an ottoman, one dog on each side waiting patiently as they know they will each get that "last" bite. I love it.

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The last seven weeks it's been the hardest thing to eat my "last bite" as I always did the same with Arlie, so long as it was something he could have.  He memorized what he could and couldn't have too, and would come up to me as I reached my last bite!  What a study they make of us!

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One day I was opening a lower cupboard to get something out when the phone started ringing.  I made a grab for it, it went dead.  I ran for the other phone and answered just in the nick of time.  All of a sudden I hear this noise in the next room…Arlie was gobbling down some mouse poison in the open cupboard!  I hung up the phone, called ER, an hour+ away, and away we went!  I drove down there, got inside, they wanted to take his weight, he wasn’t having it.  I told them his weight and they took him back, locking me outside…telling me they’d call me when ready for me to pick him up.  It was a couple minutes from my job so I went to my office to wait.  Finally they called and I went to retrieve him.  They said he growled at them so they couldn’t get the charcoal down his throat.  Why hadn’t they called me to try?  They only had a short span of time to get it down him and now it was too late!  I told them if Arlie had wanted to bite them, he would have bit them, I would have growled too if  a stranger tried cramming charcoal down my throat and wouldn’t let my mommy stay with me!  They sent out a letter blackballing him from vets in the area and told me I’d have to wait six weeks to find out if he’d live through it or not. Fortunately, he did.

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Another time I was feeding him, I opened up his dogfood container and scooped out his food, putting it in the bowl, when the phone rang.  I turned to answer the phone (I should have learned by now) and when I came to I realized he’d been scarfing down dogfood as fast as he could!  I don’t know how much he gulped down before I caught him gulping down water and he was starting to pooch out the sides and hurting!  He was literally crying he hurt so bad.  I called the emergency vet and they said to bring him in.  I told them he couldn’t sit down, how was I going to drive him 1 ½ hours away?  They said, never mind, to walk him, it aids digestion.  Oh, and they told me not to let him throw up!  (How are you supposed to stop a dog from throwing up?) My son and I walked him for hours, and he did throw up, it seemed to relieve him a bit.   

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One day Kitty was sitting on the stepstool in the kitchen when Arlie came in to see about his food.  She reached out and blopped him with her sharp claws, narrowly missing his eye.  He reached out and very gently blopped her back, being careful not to hurt her.  He’d had enough and needed to show her he wasn’t going to just take it.  She looked all mad and sharp and ran off in an indignant huff!  I told her it served her right, to quit being mean to him, he didn’t deserve it.  I couldn’t believe how gentle he was even at teaching her a lesson.

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When I’d gotten Arlie, he not only had acute chronic Colitis, but he also had Kennel Cough from the rescue I’d gotten him from.  I was telling my mom this on the phone (she had a lot of mental issues as well as dementia forming) and she announced that SHE had kennel cough too, and began to give a couple of fake coughs to prove it.  Over the years whenever my family thought about this (she has since passed from dementia) it has brought us a smile.    

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One day I had to bring Arlie to the vet out of town since ours is only open on Wednesdays (hazard of country life) and I needed to go to the doctor so a friend of mine said he’d watch Arlie while I was at the doctor.  He went into Jim’s bedroom and clamored up on his bed, which was higher than most, and then was too scared to jump down.  Jim fixed him a steak…he jumped down for that!  (I told him I would have jumped down for that!)  Jim’s roommate was used to his own dog, Winston, who actually obeyed orders.  He opened the front door and out Arlie went!  Oh no!  Jim was scared Arlie was going to get run over on his watch…he ran one way, his roommate the other, just as the city bus was coming!  He finally got him back, no worse for the wear, but both of them worn out from the run.

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Early on I tried to introduce Kitty, my 14 year old cat, to Arlie.  She was having nothing to do with it, she’d rather stay outside and take her chances.  The bully neighborhood cats kept trying to get her food away from her so I’d put her in a box with her food and let her out when she was done so she could eat in peace.  After about 1 2/3 years of this, she decided she’d rather take her chances with Arlie, so she entered the house, told him she was boss and that was it.  I’ve actually caught him going clear around the house to avoid walking by this 9 lb. old cat.  They lived in peace until Arlie’s death when Kitty was 25.

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One night we were hanging out at home and I went into the kitchen.  I opened a drawer and there was a mouse looking at me!  Having no one else to yell for, I called Arlie!  He dutifully came running to see what was up and picked up the mouse in his mouth and took it behind the couch where he broke its neck.  Not wanting blood and guts behind the couch, I called him to the back door, by now donning my fire-handler’s gloves, and told him to drop it.  He dutifully obeyed, and I picked up the now-dead mouse and tossed it outside.  Kitty came in, wondering why the commotion and how come nobody had called her in on it!

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One night we were hanging out at home and I went into the kitchen.  I opened a drawer and there was a mouse looking at me!  Having no one else to yell for, I called Arlie!  He dutifully came running to see what was up and picked up the mouse in his mouth and took it behind the couch where he broke its neck.  Not wanting blood and guts behind the couch, I called him to the back door, by now donning my fire-handler’s gloves, and told him to drop it.  He dutifully obeyed, and I picked up the now-dead mouse and tossed it outside.  Kitty came in, wondering why the commotion and how come nobody had called her in on it!

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My son & DIL brought their dogs to my home and we all visited Rich down the street…they had Bruno and Mozzy and Rich had Sammy and Miss Piggy along with my Arlie.  The dogs ran and played in the snow!  It was Arlie’s favorite day of his life, all of his favorite friends to play with.  They ran back and forth, chasing each other’s tails!  Miss Piggy mostly watched from the sidelines…she lived to 19, a little tired but enjoying the show.  This was taken that day.

Arlie running.jpg

Arlie's face.jpg

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One day my friend Rich called me and said Miss Piggy was missing, could I come help him find her?  Arlie and I walked up and down the street calling her, it was snowing and the street was covered with white and piling up.  We came home and got the pickup, slowly going up and down the street, calling her, no answer.  I put up flyers and posted on Facebook.  The next morning I got a response from one neighbor, she said the crazy Russian lady often took dogs in.  She lived two houses down from Rich so she should have known where Miss Piggy belonged.  I’d had a previous encounter with her on my walks with Arlie, her little dogs running crazy, her wanting to borrow neighbor’s phones and upset they wouldn’t let her.  I’d told her maybe it was the tampons in her hair.  I let her know it’d be cheaper to get some rollers at the dollar store and she might come across better if she used them instead.  Rich didn’t want to go to her house by himself, so he picked us up and we went down there.  He wanted me to open the gate so I did, falling on the ice and tearing my Meniscus.  I got back in the truck and we entered her property.  He sent me alone into her house…it was a little unsettling as I maneuvered through her kitchen.  I discovered she was a hoarder.  There was a pathway through her place to the living room where she was in bed with her five little dogs and Miss Piggy, all they had to eat/drink was pizza and beer.  She explained that her well was on the fritz.  Miss Piggy looked like, “Save me!” and I got her out of there!  Poor little Piggy (sweet little Pit Bull), what an adventure she had to tell about!

 

IMG_2594 sm.jpg

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Kay,

I love it, love it, love it! I cracked up at the "tampons in the hair part". What a novel idea!  lol

Arlie's pictures in the previous post so depict his handsome demeanor and intelligence. My heart still breaks for you.

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That was him at his heaviest, 140, before I started his diet.  His goal weight was 110 and he reached it within a couple years of the Colitis diet I put him on (I cooked for him).  He actually got to 106 with the cancer but after I started bribing him to eat he gained 1 1/2 lbs back even with the cancer.  My nickname for him was "Little Boy"...he will always be my little boy.

Miss Piggy passed away a couple of years ago.  Since then Rich got Molly (lab) but she got cancer, had the tumor removed and it immediately grew back so was put to sleep.  It's so hard loving and losing these wonderful creatures.

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My sister gave me a package to put under the Christmas tree.  Whenever I put up the tree, it involved moving Arlie’s recliner away from the window so I could put the tree there, but he didn’t mind giving up the spot for a month or so…he’d lay behind the couch watching all the events as I strung lights and hung ornaments.  I hung cat and dog friendly ornaments at the bottom but somehow they never bothered with them even though I tried to interest them in them.  One morning I walked in the living room and found pieces of cardstock…I looked for the culprit behind the couch and there he was, cowering, he knew he’d done wrong…and I quickly saw that the package my sister had handed me to put under the tree…contained chocolates.  A similar one had gone under the tree for my daughter so I opened it to find out how many pieces it contained so I’d know how many he ate…eleven pieces of cellophane wrapped pieces were missing. He was one sick pooch.  I called around and found a vet that would take him and away we went, over an hour away.  She was great!  She laid on the floor with him and gave him a belly rub, plied him with treats, listened to his heartbeat, got his temperature, no one had gotten so much cooperation from him!  I watched for cellophane to pass through and only found a couple of pieces, never did find out what happened to the rest.  Several days and some medicines later, he was back to normal.  My sister vowed to never buy me chocolate again.

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11 hours ago, kayc said:

My sister gave me a package to put under the Christmas tree.  Whenever I put up the tree, it involved moving Arlie’s recliner away from the window so I could put the tree there, but he didn’t mind giving up the spot for a month or so…he’d lay behind the couch watching all the events as I strung lights and hung ornaments.  I hung cat and dog friendly ornaments at the bottom but somehow they never bothered with them even though I tried to interest them in them.  One morning I walked in the living room and found pieces of cardstock…I looked for the culprit behind the couch and there he was, cowering, he knew he’d done wrong…and I quickly saw that the package my sister had handed me to put under the tree…contained chocolates.  A similar one had gone under the tree for my daughter so I opened it to find out how many pieces it contained so I’d know how many he ate…eleven pieces of cellophane wrapped pieces were missing. He was one sick pooch.  I called around and found a vet that would take him and away we went, over an hour away.  She was great!  She laid on the floor with him and gave him a belly rub, plied him with treats, listened to his heartbeat, got his temperature, no one had gotten so much cooperation from him!  I watched for cellophane to pass through and only found a couple of pieces, never did find out what happened to the rest.  Several days and some medicines later, he was back to normal.  My sister vowed to never buy me chocolate again.

I love your stories.  They are precious memories! - Shalom (Peace)

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Arlie had a nice covered pen and dog house but he wanted a fenced yard of his own.  I hired a contractor to put up “Arlie’s Fence” and showed him where to put it, the gate, etc.  The first time I took Arlie out onto the front porch, no leash, he couldn’t believe it!  He ran around the fence, checking it out and sniffing the border.  He quickly caught on, he could go into the pen or out into the fence or he could chill out on the front porch, the choice was his!  He came back and gave me a kiss of thanks.  I would that I had done this years before, what a difference it made to him!  We still went on our daily walks, twice a day, every day, but he loved the freedom this afforded him! 

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