[daviscn]

I still marvel at the pain of losing my first dog, Elvis. Like so many dog lovers, upon leaving the nest, beginning my own adulthood, getting married and setting up house, our first goal, perhaps subconscious, was to have a dog of our own. Or maybe it was my goal…

Anyway, Elvis was sitting in a crate at a local pet store, awaiting adoption through the Humane Society, and we just happened to be there, buying cat food, and that was all she wrote: the dog was in our car, driving home, seemingly before we’d even realized what we’d just done.

I had dogs growing up, playful little Dachshunds who I loved, in a distant sort of way, the way a child loves their dog. It’s different when someone else potty trains and wakes up in the night with the family pet – without much direct responsibility for their upbringing, I wasn’t raising the wiener dogs as much as I was just enjoying their company.

So I was utterly unprepared for the next few months, as my Clifford-sized puppy grew, and grew, and grew. I knew he had big paws and a large frame, but this puppy was gargantuan. A mix of Shepherd, Bloodhound (?), Rotty (?) – who knew? All we knew is that by six months, he was nearly 80 pounds of unbridled joy.

He nipped and bit and ran wild circles around us as poured our mutual affection into raising what would be, for seven years, our only child-like responsibility. Then came the actual children, and Elvis, ever the protector, was there, sleeping peacefully under my son’s baby swing, snoring loudly.

By the time we moved, again and again, Elvis was in the back of the van, a strapping 120 pounds of hound, barking so ferociously at each passing cow in a field that the vehicle swayed under his baying.

The feelings came rushing back to me as I read a recent post on a new site I frequent, CultureCloud. A dog lover who recently lost her beloved dog felt moved to write a sort of diary of her loss:

http://culturecloud.com/article.aspx?id=1767

And it simply devastated me. I hadn’t realized how, nearly 10 years later, the loss of the mighty Elvis shakes me to this day. It’s a dog. I realize that. So why can’t I think of him without a sharp intake of breath? I guess it’s because, for us, he’ll always be that dog, the one that made everything right, the one all of our earliest family memories were shaped around.

It’s a familiar formula, I know, one I re-read recently in Marley & Me, and maybe that makes it even better, because I know I am just one of many, many lucky souls who owned that dog. That joyous, life-affirming, wonderful dog.

[tirluc]

i know what you mean....it's been 24 yr since i lost my first "puppy-love" dog....but this is how i look at it when people tell me "It's Just a Dog"....

Just a Dog

From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "that's
a lot of money for "just a dog."

They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs
involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog." Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand
phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person.

Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look
longingly to the future.

So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment.

"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man."

So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog," just smile, because they "just don't understand."


~Author unknown

[crazydog06]

Dogs are not "just dogs". They are therapists that help you through the hard times, playmates for you and your kids, vacumm cleaners for when you spill something, jogging parnters in 30 degree weather and in 90 degrees, burglar alarms (some of them!).Tell you when the mail is here, and when the doorbell rings. Soem of them drive us to insanity and some we can't live without. They melt our hearts and save people's lives. They give sight to the blind and mobility for the disabled. Now can you honestly say that dogs are "just dogs"? Thank you!

[charlotte]

Hello everyone,
I have just found this site and i am much needed of a little support from you fellow dog lovers. On Wednesday my sweet natured Siberien Husky puppy got killed. She was only 5 months old and I cant stop blaming myself.
Unfortunatly i live close by to a road,its not a busy one but all the same she wandered off just for only 2 minutes, but that was enough for her to bit hit by a car. I never took her on the road without her lead and seemed to understand when i was cross at her if she ever took the short path that leads to the road. However on the wednesday morning i did my usual thing made a coffee and took her downstairs to the garden where i sat and played with her whilst she did her buissness.We went back upstairs and all was well she waited for her food as always and was playing with my two kittens which she always did,and played with her toys. Now she was used to going down there alone and sometimes i would open the gate for her to go down to the garden to use the toilet and on that morning i was due to go out so i thought to myself "oh i'll let Rosie out to have a quick wee so she's not caught short whilst im out" Now i wish i had not bothered and let her wee wherever she liked.
She was killed outright by the driver and he/she did not stop. I hope she was killed out right anyway so that she didnt suffer any pain. I found her no more than 5 minutes after i let her out and had probably chased a couple of dogs away that had been hanging around for the past few days. As they were used to the road cos they are left to wander all day,they were street wise,they knew the dangers but my Rosie did not.
Please forgive me if i am rambling with my words as i can honestly say i have never felt grief like this and am crying as i write this. She was my company my little friend who i really did treat like a baby. So yes i understand when i read the posts on its just not a dog for some people a dog is the only friend they have.
I am so angry at myself because i know if i hadn't let her out she would still be here...if this and if that is all that is going round my mind and i know that none of this will bring her back. I keep having to look ouside my front door to make sure it is true,to see if she really has gone. Its all so quiet without her,my routine is dissrupted and everything i do i miss her because she was always there like my shadow, like when i have a bath she would wait so i would give her some of the bath bubbles and her eating carrots and bannanas because she was teathing.
Anyway i rwally just wanted to tell my story that a dog is just never a dog to people that care for them. A dog is family a part of a loving unit that you share happy times with. Even though I only had Rosie for 5 months she brought me so so much joy,fun and most of all company.
I have also thought about getting intouch with the vets where i got her from to see if they know her mum?? Is this a good idea to see if she ever has pups again to let me know so i could have one??
Thankyou all for listening to my story and if i could have any advice i would appreciate it so much.
Charlotte. x

[sheltieluver]

I know what you mean. I always had dogs growing up but as an adult, getting my house, I got two of my very own shelties! I loved them as my kids. I lost one August 05 and the other Jan 06 at the age of 15 years old. I still miss them terribly and even looking at pictures, driving to "our park", makes me cry .
crazy dog...I love what you said, it's so true. They are not just dogs!

[atldoglover]

Originally Posted by daviscn

I still marvel at the pain of losing my first dog, Elvis. Like so many dog lovers, upon leaving the nest, beginning my own adulthood, getting married and setting up house, our first goal, perhaps subconscious, was to have a dog of our own. Or maybe it was my goal…

Anyway, Elvis was sitting in a crate at a local pet store, awaiting adoption through the Humane Society, and we just happened to be there, buying cat food, and that was all she wrote: the dog was in our car, driving home, seemingly before we’d even realized what we’d just done.

I had dogs growing up, playful little Dachshunds who I loved, in a distant sort of way, the way a child loves their dog. It’s different when someone else potty trains and wakes up in the night with the family pet – without much direct responsibility for their upbringing, I wasn’t raising the wiener dogs as much as I was just enjoying their company.

So I was utterly unprepared for the next few months, as my Clifford-sized puppy grew, and grew, and grew. I knew he had big paws and a large frame, but this puppy was gargantuan. A mix of Shepherd, Bloodhound (?), Rotty (?) – who knew? All we knew is that by six months, he was nearly 80 pounds of unbridled joy.

He nipped and bit and ran wild circles around us as poured our mutual affection into raising what would be, for seven years, our only child-like responsibility. Then came the actual children, and Elvis, ever the protector, was there, sleeping peacefully under my son’s baby swing, snoring loudly.

By the time we moved, again and again, Elvis was in the back of the van, a strapping 120 pounds of hound, barking so ferociously at each passing cow in a field that the vehicle swayed under his baying.

The feelings came rushing back to me as I read a recent post on a new site I frequent, CultureCloud. A dog lover who recently lost her beloved dog felt moved to write a sort of diary of her loss:

http://culturecloud.com/article.aspx?id=1767

And it simply devastated me. I hadn’t realized how, nearly 10 years later, the loss of the mighty Elvis shakes me to this day. It’s a dog. I realize that. So why can’t I think of him without a sharp intake of breath? I guess it’s because, for us, he’ll always be that dog, the one that made everything right, the one all of our earliest family memories were shaped around.

It’s a familiar formula, I know, one I re-read recently in Marley & Me, and maybe that makes it even better, because I know I am just one of many, many lucky souls who owned that dog. That joyous, life-affirming, wonderful dog.

What a lovely way with words you have...