Gone but not Forgotten

It’s Jack’s Wednesday guest post on a Wednesday – wonders will never cease!

Most bookstores have a cat or a dog and we’re no exception. Actually, we have two dogs and three cats plus however many foster kitties are sojourning with us at any one time.

But this post isn’t about one of our owners. A couple of days ago our good friends Mark and Elizabeth lost their lovable wee dog Suzie. Suzie owned them, their house and every piece of their yard, including the dirt road that passes by it. She clearly regarded that section of road as part of her domain and that it had to be defended against anyone and anything that traveled along it. Our friends went to great lengths to stop her running out after cars, bikes and quads. Despite their efforts it was maybe inevitable that this is how she’d meet her end, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

suzie

Our dogs are escape artists of the seventh water and we have to be ever vigilant when they have access to our front door. There have been many times we’ve had to chase them all over our fairly busy downtown and there’s an irony in that. So far (fingers crossed) our two have survived busy intersections and even wandering down the middle of the street ahead of an enormous coal truck, yet poor Suzie got hit by a car on a mostly quiet country road.

Our bookstore greeter cat Owen had a very narrow escape about eighteen months ago. He now looks both ways before crossing the road and uses the cross-walk (he really does!)

At the best of times we only have them for a relatively short time, so if we are pet owned there will be many times that we will have to deal with situations like this. It’s never easy and there are many times I’ve had a spade in my hand with tears streaming down my face.

Our beloved 14 year old Zora, our black Lab, is showing definite signs of dementia and is losing strength in her back legs, so it could be that we will have the worst decision in the world ahead of us in a few months. Of course as long as she isn’t in pain we are happy to make her ever diminishing world as comfortable and easy as we can. She doesn’t know who we are but she thinks the staff at this home are very nice.

Why do we do it? Subject ourselves to this?

Well – that’s easy. It’s because they give us their unconditional love (well, the dogs do – the cats not so much).

Suzie gave and received much love – she will be long remembered – RIP Suzie. And God Bless Us, each and every pet-owned human out there.

A Dog’s Life

Jack’s Wednesday guest post –

Zora, Earth Mother

She’s been with us for fourteen years now and has been the most laid back, undemanding dog it’s ever been my good fortune to have been befriended by. But it’s obvious that she’s getting to be an old lady. She spends a lot of time looking abstractedly into corners of the bookstore and she has great difficulty handling anything involving the slightest of steps up or down.

She entered our life as a wee (mostly) Lab pup rescued from a busy intersection. When we moved here to Big Stone Gap she had no difficulty becoming the foster mother to a never ending procession of tiny kittens, licking them and lying with them and never complaining about their demands.

The only time I ever saw her show any belligerence was when a visiting dog attacked Bert. She attacked back, exponentially.

Now Bert – Ah, Bert!

IMG_3605

Zora and Bert await breakfast

Even terrier Bert can’t manage to rile Zora, much as he tries. Never were two dogs more different, but somehow they rub along. Chasing each other round the yard was their favorite sport and they still manage that from time to time. Slower now.

It’s always hard to deal with the aging of pets, but somehow we have to. I think they help to teach us about mortality, simply because their life expectancy is so much shorter. Time and again throughout our longer human life we have to deal with the parade of much loved companions – their arrival and departure.

We become educated to recognize the signs and that’s never easy.

Zora – our truly beloved and uncomplaining Zora is getting to be an old lady – – –