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Nov. 1st, 2005 11:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
My brother just IMed me to tell me our big dog died.


She was 10--just turned yesterday, as a matter of fact, and she'd been having problems lately--liver issues, apparently, and she'd been living outside since she was also having food stealing and inappropriate bathroom issues, and my mom didn't have time to take her to the vet just then. She was still feeling good, though, whatever was up--when I talked to my mom yesterday they'd been putting an extension on the fence since this fat, old, partly crippled rottie (she'd wrecked her ACL a couple of years ago when she ran into a car) was jumping over the fence to roam free and eat horse shit. But Mum let the little dogs out, and she was sleeping in her box on the porch, and when she went back to let the little dogs in Wicca was lying on the patio having trouble breathing. So my mom went out to see her while she worried about what to do--she had to go to work, and how to get her in the car anyways, and such--and she petted her and told her she was a good dog for a couple of minutes, and she just stopped breathing. My mom said, "It's just how my dad died."
She was such a bad dog--she stole food her whole life, she only listened when she felt like it, she growled if you touched her butt, she was utterly unpunishable, and she worked very hard at not learning anything, but she was the sweetest tempered dog I've known. The little dogs adored her, she used to let them wrestle with her. When I went to look up how long rotties lived a year or two ago, and discovered she was heading towards old age (9-12 was the usual range), I discovered that all the things she did that were so odd--she had to touch you if it was at all possible, she talked a lot--grumbling if you put her outside, or moved her off the part of the couch she wanted to sleep on, and she liked to hold your hand in her mouth--were all Rottie traits. She was a pet store puppy, and an impulse buy, and the vets would just about gape at us in surprise when we'd tell them this. And we're all going to miss her an awful lot.
My brother wants a Japanese maple planted over her, and we think there's a good spot in one of my mother's flower garden spots for her. We have an awful lot of trees in the back yard after 20 years.

She was 10--just turned yesterday, as a matter of fact, and she'd been having problems lately--liver issues, apparently, and she'd been living outside since she was also having food stealing and inappropriate bathroom issues, and my mom didn't have time to take her to the vet just then. She was still feeling good, though, whatever was up--when I talked to my mom yesterday they'd been putting an extension on the fence since this fat, old, partly crippled rottie (she'd wrecked her ACL a couple of years ago when she ran into a car) was jumping over the fence to roam free and eat horse shit. But Mum let the little dogs out, and she was sleeping in her box on the porch, and when she went back to let the little dogs in Wicca was lying on the patio having trouble breathing. So my mom went out to see her while she worried about what to do--she had to go to work, and how to get her in the car anyways, and such--and she petted her and told her she was a good dog for a couple of minutes, and she just stopped breathing. My mom said, "It's just how my dad died."
She was such a bad dog--she stole food her whole life, she only listened when she felt like it, she growled if you touched her butt, she was utterly unpunishable, and she worked very hard at not learning anything, but she was the sweetest tempered dog I've known. The little dogs adored her, she used to let them wrestle with her. When I went to look up how long rotties lived a year or two ago, and discovered she was heading towards old age (9-12 was the usual range), I discovered that all the things she did that were so odd--she had to touch you if it was at all possible, she talked a lot--grumbling if you put her outside, or moved her off the part of the couch she wanted to sleep on, and she liked to hold your hand in her mouth--were all Rottie traits. She was a pet store puppy, and an impulse buy, and the vets would just about gape at us in surprise when we'd tell them this. And we're all going to miss her an awful lot.
My brother wants a Japanese maple planted over her, and we think there's a good spot in one of my mother's flower garden spots for her. We have an awful lot of trees in the back yard after 20 years.