My Bestest Dog

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

This may take a little explanation.
I am so much more a cat person. Cats have been a mainstay of my life, but this is about the dogs that I have loved
I have always been afraid of dogs, as far back as I can remember. My mom told me once that I was knocked down by a large, bumbling, overly friendly dog as a toddler but I don’t remember that. I have progressed a great deal since thin but a barking aggressive dog can still send shockwaves through me.

Around the age of 12 I made wary friends with a dachshund named Daisy that my neighbor had. My parents were so thrilled that I got near a dog, they bought me one of her puppies for my birthday! Duke was the first dog I was not afraid of, even when he bit me when he was injured. I grew up, married and a few dogs were in my life. I did ok with them, no major issues.

Fast forward a few years, and my neighbor lures my kids over to see their new litter of puppies, with an offer of a free puppy. How can I refuse? My kids have already picked one out! That was how my Dollar ( my daughter named him, she must have been a little money-conscious at the time) entered my life.

Dollar was a male Border Collie/Samoyed mix. Loyal to a fault, family-centered, the kids and their friends were his herd. That he was a beautiful dog with a lovely coat and color, was a additional gift. He had the undercoat of a Samoyed and only went in his doghouse if the temperature was below 0F. He would only come inside for thunderstorms and fireworks, and even then he would lay right by the door. We lived out in the country, and he would go exploring with the kids in the fields and woods. I never worried about the kids wandering the woods because I trusted Dollar to bring them home, and he always did. He recognized early on that he could not catch the deer who came on the property , so he just ignored them. :smiley: Since I lived in the country, he was a free-range dog and visited several of my neighbors on a regular basis, many of whom would give me regular reports on him and his behavior.

Dollar and my children grew up together. One day they were gone and I was left to bury my face in his fur, which was glorious.

then came the day when he went missing. He was 15. My (now ex) husband found him dead in his personal dog cave spot on the creek bank, where we believe he had gone to die, away from his pack (us.)

This has been the dog of my heart so far. My bestest dog. He has been gone over 10 years and I have had no dog since. I guess it would be fair to say this dog broke my heart

Tell me your bestest dog story, the one that broke your heart

2

There’s something in my eyes. Dollar sounds amazing.

My bestest dog was Kubla, a beautiful Akita boy. We got him as a puppy when we bought our first house. He had a brindle coat, with a black mask, and white markings. He had the softest fur.

When we brought him home, he would go stand by the door when he needed to go out, but he wouldn’t bark or whine, so he had a few accidents while he waited for us to notice him. To teach him how to get our attention, my husband took Kubla’s paw and hit the door with it, and then opened the door. After that, when Kubla wanted in or out, he whapped the door with his paw. Not scratching it, but hitting it. It was cute when he was 15 lbs. It was a definite statement when he reached 100 lbs. :smiley:

He was my buddy. We did everything together. I even took him to work with me for awhile. He was dignified. He just had this aura about him, regal almost. He loved chasing butterflies, but rarely bothered to catch them. He hated skunks and killed them with prejudice. He loved us, and his friends, and was always happy to meet someone new.

He got cancer when he was 9, and it broke my heart. He beat the cancer, but 2 years later he developed severe spinal problems and I let him go.

I often think about getting another Akita, but I doubt I will.

3

My best dog was a teenie-tiny Rat Terrier, named Grace Kelly. Gracie was bought the month my first born left the nest. My baby and her grew up together. Gracie was no doubt the smartest dog I had ever been in close proximity too. She understood hundreds of words. We would spell things out, but she still knew what we talking about. She guarded my lil’wrekker like a mother lion. And actually stopped a few things from happening to her, not life saving, but injury saving at least. She taught us about unconditional love in a way no human could. She kept secrets like they were state secrets! She lived til 23yrs old and was the happy dog on her last day that she was on the first day we brought her home. I have had many dogs, I have 2 now, and love them both. But there will never be another Gracie. She just fit us perfectly, and I hope we fit her. Sleep tight sweet Gracie!

4

I’ve had many dogs in my life and I have loved them all but there will never be another Rocco. Rocco (Rocky) was a boxer my son bought after he graduated high school. We had no experience with boxers so we had no idea what to expect. Rocco was a beautiful flashy (meaning he had white socks, white chest and white on his face) fawn boy.

My son was dating a local girl at the time he got Rocky. He left that fall to play junior hockey in Montana. So we were stuck with a puppy with both of us working full-time. My son’s girlfriend said her mom would help us out - she didn’t work outside the home. She was smitten with Rocky too - head over heels in love with him. So we had an arrangement…Rocky would spend the week at the girlfriend’s house and I’d pick him up on Fridays to spend the weekend with us. It worked out great.

He was almost human-like. He was so sweet. He slept with us every night. When he wanted me to wake up, I would feel just a light touch of his lips and whiskery face on my cheek. It was like getting a gentle good morning kiss. Everyone loved Rocco. My mom said, “what’s with that dog? Is he magical or something”. He was also very smart. He understood so many words and could learn tricks after showing him once or twice. He had a bell on the door he’d ring when he wanted to go out.

He was almost 10 when he got Addison’s disease. We did what we could for a few months, but could see that he just wasn’t enjoying life anymore. When we had him put to sleep his “other” mom was there with me and we both bawled our eyes out that day. My son was fighting cancer at the same time. I remember the day before my son died I told him to imagine the amazing place he will be going next and who would be there to greet him. I said Rocco will be there waiting for you too. He smiled.

As all of you know that are posting on this thread, you can’t really describe how great your dog is. I just know that Rocky has a place in my heart forever. No other dog will ever compare.

RIP Rockstar!

5

All my dogs have been the best, but my first dog holds a special place in my heart.

I had always owned cats, and I mentioned to my most recent ex-girlfriend that I was thinking of getting a dog someday. One day, I get a call from her, and she tells me that friends of hers had found a stray, and brought her to the Humane Society, and that I must go and adopt her!
So, I went and adopted her.
Tasha was a beautiful Chow-mix with long, honey-colored fur and a mottled tongue. I wasn’t really expecting to come home with a dog, so I had to take her around with me the whole day (I was helping someone move). When we finally got home, I realized that I needed to make some accommodations for the stray cat I was caring for, so I went to put a cat-door in the garage, and while I was working Tasha got out. I went out to catch her, and she ran me around the neighborhood for hours. I realized after awhile that she was playing - she would run ahead, and wait for me to catch up, and then bolt out of my reach. Eventually, I got her back to the house, but she would not let me catch her. I finally got really angry, and said to her “I don’t have that much invested in you emotionally or financially - if you want to go, go!”

I turned around and went inside, leaving the door open.
In 20 seconds, she was standing next to me, and that was the start of 15 years of friendship.

Tasha and Worf, who I rescued as a puppy a few years later.
Her last portrait.

6

All my dogs have broke my heart when they left me, but I think the worst was my Gordon Setter, Nicky.

From the beginning, he was my Perfect Dog. He loved me beyond all reason, and I returned that love. He was protective of me and HAD to be touching me at all times. He gave the best hugs, standing up on his hind legs on my bed and putting his front legs over my shoulders and squeezing. He was my world.

He got bone cancer last year. When the pain became too much for him, I took him to my vet for that final, awful trip. I’ve had many dogs euthanized, and I always stay with them. It’s always been a peaceful passing.

Not for Nick. He fought it with everything he had. I’m sure he knew it was the end of our time together. He pulled the needle out 3 times and was staring into my eyes, into my soul as he finally passed. I have not been right since that day. There is a gigantic Nicky shaped hole in my heart.

It will be 1 year tomorrow.

7

My best dog is the dog I have.

I know that sounds like love the one you’re with, but he is.

I loved our Wheaten Terrier. She was dumb as a doorknob and that’s insulting doorknobs but trainable and loving. We got her to an Open trial and she did great until recall in which she noticed my wife outside the ring and ran to her instead of me: Save me Mommy! That was it for doing trials. Lost her when a son let a friend in just as a UPS truck rumbled by. I was in the basement and he had not done enough of her training to know to give the command that she might have listened to. Sweet dumb thing she was. But best dog ever she wasn’t.

Both my whippets were lovable too. They were littermates. The girl died at 7 of liver cancer that took her fast. He lasted until 16 1/2. Really good dogs and I miss them both.

The greyhounds overlapped with our old man whippet and were an elegant lady and a goofball guy. Great dogs. Sweet couch potatoes. Very little work to be their humans.

All those dogs were chosen partly because they did not need to have a job. And that was a good choice for our family at the time and fair to the pets. Now though we have a smart dog, a Miniature American Shepherd (which is basically just a somewhat small Australian Shepherd). And while he requires more attention, more exercise of both body and mind, experiencing a dog that so much wants to please you, that is so eager to learn, well it puts him there right off as best dog. I guess because he’s requiring me to invest more into him and rewarding my investment. He has no clicker, and he cannot say “yes, good human!”, but his excitement to learn and clear attachment to us … it serves the same function as giving us treats each time. He’s only 12 weeks now. If I’m this goofy about him now how will I be in a dozen years?

8

We had an amazing older Aussie named Zoe. When we first got her, she barked incessantly. She had been owned by a blind man who taught her to “speak,” then gave her a treat… took a while to break her of that habit.

We were tossing a tennis ball to another dog when Zoe came up and basically said, “hey let me try.” We rolled the ball a few feet, she picked it up and then dropped it. No interest, but she was saying, I’ll do that, if it’ll make you love me more.

One day she was out in the back yard in the snow, and had trouble making it back into the house. Xrays revealed that both of our back legs were dislocated at the hip! Somehow ligaments had grown up to hold her legs in place…

Our older dog Harley was losing control of his back end. Well Harley always loved lying on the sofa, but couldn’t make it up there anymore. Zoe got behind him and tried to push him up onto the sofa. When that failed, she licked around his hips to try and make him better.

Oh, and she also could roll down the car windows…

9

Dina was the love of my life. She was a Pit Bull/GSD mix, and I had always been a cat person, but I knew someone who was desperate to place these puppies, because the shelter at the time had a policy of not adopting out Pibbles and mixes (they have changed the policy). Anyway, I had recently housed a dog for a day and a half that had wandered into my yard, and I kept her while I looked for the owner, and she was just a great dog. I had never thought about having a dog before (like I said, committed cat person, and still am); at the time, I had four cats.

But I agreed to give this dog a try. I asked for a female, because I thought she might be less aggressive than a male. I was wary, and said “If she is at all aggressive toward the cats, she goes back.”

She was smaller than any of the cats when I brought her home. She weighed 7 lbs. almost on the dot. She was only 6 weeks old, and I tried to talk the people who had her mother into keeping her a little longer, but they were anxious to get the mother spayed (she was only 8 months old, and they --duh-- didn’t realize she could have puppies yet) before she went into heat again. Her father was actually a pedigreed GSD, and a stud K9, which was why he wasn’t fixed. He apparently scaled an 8 foot fence when there was a dog across the street in heat. Dina was a climber too. Anyway, she always had some separation anxiety from me, which I suspect had to do with leaving her mother too early.

Anyway, I was in love with her from the first night. She slept in my bed, right next to me, and the cats looked like “The word ‘betrayal’ comes to mind, but does not quite encompass the horror!”

I started training her not to jump right away, and she learned it well. By the time she was 2, she would walk up to people, and sit at their feet if she wanted pet. She did tricks too. She couldn’t pass the canine good citizenship test, because of her separation anxiety, but she passed all the other tests, including a very impressive lie-down stay. I could put her in a lie-down stay, walk 20 yards away, and dangle her favorite toy, and she still would not get up until she got the release command. She must have known 100 words. She could heel off-leash as well.

She was in the slow group at her first obedience class, but I stuck with it. I’m glad I did. She was just a very energetic dog who needed to grow up and clam down a little before she settled into everything she had learned. I also had to figure out that she wasn’t a food-motivated dog-- she was play-motivated. Her best reward was a few seconds of tug-o-war with me. After those really impressive lie-down stays, she got several minutes of tug-o-war.

She slept with me, and liked to spoon. When my husband and I started dating, he fell in love with Dina too. When he moved in, he got a dog of his own, who was his bestest dog. We took those dogs with us on our honeymoon, which was a road trip to the Grand Canyon.

Dina was well-traveled. All in all, she was in, IIRC, nine states. It might have been 10. Other than show and service dogs, most dogs do not get to travel that much, but she was so good, we could take her everywhere.

She only lived 10 years, but they were great years. She had cancer, and developed neuropathy, and lost the ability to walk. She wasn’t in pain, but she was suffering psychologically, because she couldn’t maintain being the alpha dog anymore, and she had to be propped up to pee or poop. So I had to make the decision to have her put down.

When I picked her up as a puppy, she rode in the car all the way home with her head on my lap, and that’s how she rode on that last trip to the vet.

I have her ashes, and DH has instructions to pour them over my coffin. If he dies first, then I will so instruct my son, who I assume will be an adult by then. Right now he is only 11, and he thinks it’s weird that I have an old dog’s ashes in the back of my closet. He never knew her.

He did know my husband’s dog, who was a great dog too, and my husband cried like a baby when she died. She, however, lived to be 15 & 1/2, and died in her sleep. Can’t ask for more than that.