Originally Posted by Newfiedogs
Your only "dogless" for as long as you want to be.
We operate a food cart. We can not be dragging hair into the food prep area. So David says no more furkids. I am still finding hair from KC in the Class C. And she passed in 2007!
I tend to end up with "fuzzy" dogs
Sasha (one of my wedding presents from David) was a rescued registered AKC American Eskimo Spitz. Championship bloodlines worth far too much $$ and her owner starved her, beat her and broke one of her front legs. She ate one of the morons fancy bunny rabbits. Every thing about this guy was for show. He also beat his wife and kids. So a friend of one of my brother-in-laws removed the dog from the guy took her to the vet to get her leg set and I ended up with her.
Sam, (not his name and he didn't answer to it), was a Lab/chow mix. also long haired. He was what we would call a "Bubba". He fell in love with our antique cat (she was OLD when we rescued her from an animal shelter... we estimate she was well into her 20's when she passed). The cat would let him chew on her head, kiss her all over (she was soggy wet after one of his "love sessions") and he would lay on her and all we could hear was her purring with no sign of her (he was huge and she was tiny... about the size of a 6 month old kitten). Sam was hit by a vehicle just days before we moved off a busy road. He was... different.
K.C. was a rescue. She was a Borzoi/Husky mix. Had the long outer fur of a Borzoi with the under coat of a Husky. She was a couch tater. She slept all the time. Which made our antique cat happy since the dog was warm. Her fav spot was in bed. In the Class C, she rode on the bed to where she could sleep or sit and look out the huge rear window and stick her tongue out at other people and dogs. She was my "favourite" and liked to "tell" the girls that as well. She was a year old before she ever barked and scared herself so badly that she didn't try to bark for another 6 months. Like huskies, she "talked" alot. David & the girls taught her to say "Mom" (I hated that), "No" and "Out". She would tell me & David to get "out" of the bed so she could burrow under the covers when it was cold out. She took up the whole bed. When the antique cat died, she wouldn't eat. After a month we took her to an animal shelter and got her another cat... the only one in the pen who would come up to her. She firmly believed that her name was "My Pretty Precious Petite BeBe". She had days (weeks) when that was the only name she would answer to.
Little Fat Pita cat. The shelter had named her Pita because she was so tiny, and she had HUGE feet. By the time she became a full adult, she weighed 15 to 16 lbs (she wasn't fat, just big). We believe she was part Maine Coon. She would sit outside in the rain and never get soaked to the skin. She shed water like an Otter. She let my daughter Stacey (the one who got our Class C) wash her in the sink. She was a strange cat. She thought she was a dog. KC was jumped in one time by three dogs while we were staying in my Mom's cabin (David lived there while working in NC). Pita came off the deck on her "knuckles"... she looked like one of those short English bull dogs> She jumped the dogs (one was a known cat killer) and backed my Mom's wolf-hybrid into a corner and he rolled over to her. A few days later, we headed back home to TN. Our neighbours dog (Grand Pyranees... just a puppy still) had been harassing the cat for a few months. She came out of the Jeep and he spotted her and decided to do his thing with her. She ran him out of the yard. After than, she would chase dogs. Taking walks around the campground with her (on a leash and dog harness) was interesting. Most cats want to run from dogs. Mine wanted to eat one! She also picked up KC's dislike of the tiny "yappers".
When KC died, that cat was sure I had done something to the dog. She kinda became unhinged. So we took her back up to Franklin to stay with Stacey in familiar surroundings. At the time, we were parking in the driveway of the rich...idiot.. David worked for who had lots of cats. One of whom decided he wanted to live with us. Naughty Boy managed to slip inside the RV and proceeded to make himself at home. I didn't see him and could not figure out why she was growling at me. Even though I shooed Naughty Boy out, she was still POed at me. She got worse after that incident. After about a month or so, Stacey gave her a bath and the cat was outside without her collar(id) and harness while she dried and that was the last she was seen. We think she went looking for her dog. We searched the neighborhood, checked the animal shelters for over a year. Stacey still blames herself for the cat disappearing.
David said no more pets for a while. Now if one came to us, that would be different. but I wasn't to go get one. ALL of our pets have been rescues.