Pets of Chiefs Planet

[pr_capone]

I know there are some animal lovers here.

Lets see whatcha got.



From left to right:

Suzy (Chow Mix)- 1.5 yrs old
Mandi (Long Haired Miniature Dachshund) - 13 years old
Angie (Dapple Haired Miniature Dachshunds) - 4 years old

Angie is the one that rides the motorcycle with me.

[Fire Me Boy!]

Originally Posted by Rain Man

My boy O.J. celebrated his 20th birthday tonight with a special dinner. We got him crab legs, shrimp, raw salmon, and raw cod. He loves crab legs.

That's awesome.

[Rain Man]

Originally Posted by Dartgod

How did he manage to crack the crab legs without opposable thumbs?

He needed a little help with that part of it.

As an aside, it's really hard to crack crab legs open if you don't have those little crab pliers at home. I had to use some kitchen shears, and actually ended up bleeding pretty good from a hit by some ricocheting crab armor. There's no way a person could win a mixed martial arts fight with a king crab.

[DMAC]

Yes I have a Goldendoodle. He's awesome. Shut up.

He is not fufu. He is a dudes dog. I just hate shedding (had a lab for many years).

Time for the groomers and the kids wanted him to have a mohawk. I thought this was a great idea so told the groomer to make a mohawk. Let's see what happened...

Cuba before:


Cuba after:

[Dayze]

[Buck]

Cool dog. Can you take a better pic of him with he hawk?

[Buck]

I'm going crazy. I'm supposed to adopt this cat on Feb 1 when I move into a new place, but because of my broken ankle I might not be able to move just yet (depends on if the doc gives me the OK to drive on Jan 30). So Ive been seeing the cat at the foster owners house a few times and she's really cool, but I just think about her every day and the fact that I don't have her yet is bumming me out....and it might be delayed a couple more weeks.

[DMAC]

Originally Posted by Buck

Cool dog. Can you take a better pic of him with he hawk?

Dude, the hawk was awful. I went straight home and trimmed that shit off. I made it a cool fade cut though.

He looked like flaming 80s poof hair homosexual.

[Buehler445]

Son of a bitch. My parents had to put their dog down. I was really fond of it. Mom named him Bo, so I immediately had to change it to Rambo because he was a big German Shepherd and had MASSIVE canines. Plus he was really active and if he was going to do something he was by god going to DO IT.

Anyway, he was a really good dog despite my parents not doing a whole lot of training. Him and my dog played together a lot and had a pretty good relationship. When my dad was in the hospital, I was taking care of him, and he jumped out of my pickup after a rabbit when I was going about 40. He cracked his pelvis and I had to get him to the vet and take care of him while Dad was in the hospital. That's probably where I developed a really tight bond with him.

He got to feeling better and was out at the farm a lot, being Rambo. A couple months ago, he broke his humorous...like shattered it. The vet did surgery and got it to probably 60% but was still improving slowly. It hobbled him pretty bad, but Rambo is unstoppable.

Well, today he broke the other humorous. He didn't shatter it, but he wasn't going to be able to walk for a long time, and his quality of life was going to be pretty tough. So they decided to put him down.

I'm going to miss big old Rambo. He was a great dog, and had a huge heart. But he was too much Rambo for his body.

RIP buddy.

[DeezNutz]

Sorry, dude. Great looking dog, and it sounds like you have some great memories. That's about all we can ask for because they're not ever going to be with us as long as they should be.

[Buehler445]

Originally Posted by DeezNutz

Sorry, dude. Great looking dog, and it sounds like you have some great memories. That's about all we can ask for because they're not ever going to be with us as long as they should be.

Thanks for the kind words. He was a pretty special dog both in personality and resilience.

I do feel bad for mom though. All growing up we had mutts around, and they were farm dogs. Then she thought she would try to get a German Shepherd to try to assure the traits she wanted. Well that dog got run over with a tractor about 6 months after she got it. And then this one and all it's problems. He was about 2.5 years old. Most of the rest of them had to be put down because of old age. I'm sure she's frustrated because she's spent a LOT more money and tried to do everything right with these shepherds.

She was really attached to this one and took it pretty hard.

[DeezNutz]

Originally Posted by Buehler445

Thanks for the kind words. He was a pretty special dog both in personality and resilience.

I do feel bad for mom though. All growing up we had mutts around, and they were farm dogs. Then she thought she would try to get a German Shepherd to try to assure the traits she wanted. Well that dog got run over with a tractor about 6 months after she got it. And then this one and all it's problems. He was about 2.5 years old. Most of the rest of them had to be put down because of old age. I'm sure she's frustrated because she's spent a LOT more money and tried to do everything right with these shepherds.

She was really attached to this one and took it pretty hard.

Results never justify a decision.

What I mean by this is that you're right: a person can make all of the right decisions for all of the right reasons and sometimes things just don't work out for whatever reason (luck, etc.).

Don't let it get you down. Keep making the correct choices for the right reasons and things will work themselves out.

[Buehler445]

Originally Posted by DeezNutz

Results never justify a decision.

What I mean by this is that you're right: a person can make all of the right decisions for all of the right reasons and sometimes things just don't work out for whatever reason (luck, etc.).

Don't let it get you down. Keep making the correct choices for the right reasons and things will work themselves out.

Yeah. I'm going to try to explain that to mom after she's had some time to grieve. I'm happy she tried to go beyond a farm dog but bummed it hasn't yielded better results.

I'm really lucky with my dog. In fact I've sent him official notice that he has to outlive me.

[O.city]

Not a story about my pets per say, but just goes to show how great Labs are. I have a four year old chocolate Lab.




This is a great story...worth reading.

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," whatever that meant. They must've thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't
matter where you throw them, he'll bound after them, so be careful. Don't do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones ---"sit," "stay," "come," "heel."

He knows hand signals, too: He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you...His name's not Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this ... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is "Tank." Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter ... in the "event" ... to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

"Hey, Tank," I said quietly.

The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

"C'mere boy."

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard in months. "Tank," I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

"It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me." Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

"So whatdaya say we play some ball?" His ears perked again.

"Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?"


Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

[Fire Me Boy!]

Originally Posted by O.city

Not a story about my pets per say, but just goes to show how great Labs are. I have a four year old chocolate Lab.




This is a great story...worth reading.

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

This is a fine tale, but it's fiction.

http://www.snopes.com/glurge/reggie.asp

[Frazod]

Sonny and Apollo taking a nap.