Okay, I've never been what one would call a poodle-lover, having bought into the unfortunate stereotypes about them. My Mom was, and had several during her lifetime. Then Mom died in January 1999, leading to:
Dog the One: Laika
Apricot Toy Poodle, 5 1/2 pounds, neutered male, born June 1995 at Pamper's Poodles .
Mom was born in 1924, and from the time she was old enough to read, she was an avid science fiction fan and supporter of the space program. It was natural for her to name her pup after the first dog in space.
Laika was pretty unruly when I first got him (Mom had not been able to get around much the last year of her life). After a couple of rounds of obedience classes, he turned out to be one of the sweetest, smartest, cuddliest critters I've ever encountered. He lives peacefully with my three cats (who weigh 9, 10 and 14 pounds - pictures to follow at a later date) - his main frustration is that only the youngest will play with him.
I soon discovered that, like potato chips, it's hard to stop at just one poodle, leading to:
Dog the Two: Tanner
Tanner is a jigsaw poodle: probably purebred, but very badly - he looks like he was put together out of leftover poodle parts. He's 10 pounds, black, neutered male, estimated birth year 1987.
Arrived October 9, 1999. He was found, sick and starving, wandering down a freeway in Montana: the wonderful Brenda of the Rimrock Humane Society took him from a shelter, nursed him back to health, then sent him to Tiny Tails Rescue of Seattle. I found him via the PetShelter Network, a fabulous online resource for dog and cat adoption in the US and Canada. The equally wonderful Susan of Tiny Tails was kind enough to let him come live with me.
He too is sweet, funny and even more cuddly than Laika, if that's possible. He's deaf, but is proving an old dog can learn new tricks - he's already picked up on signs for sit and come, and we're now working on stay. He thinks the sole purpose of the cats are as his toys, a viewpoint with which they do not agree.
Sad Update:
Tanner left us at approximately 8:15am Tuesday July 13, 2004. He'd been suffering from kidney disease for the last year, and was down to skin and bones. He also had back problems which had been getting progressively worse. He could barely stand, and had trouble walking. For 2 days, he had refused to eat, even cat food, so I knew it was time. I had hoped he would go quietly on his own, but it was not to be so, and I had to make the excruciating decision. I love you, my little Tanner-man, and hope you are romping again, with lots of girl dogs, in a better place.
Hey! I just got back from the groomer and I look great! Where's my black tie? |
I may not look quite as spiffy, but if I stare hard enough, I *know* I can get that cat to come down off the table so I can jump on her. |
Now, just a minute! This is *my* chair! Who invited *you* up here? |
Well, tough cookies. It's mine now. |
Yawn. It's hard work being this cute. I'll deal with him tomorrow. |
Last update 7/13/04 by Debbie Schwartz
Copyright 2015 by Debbie Schwartz