[stylist] Old Dogs and Old Tricks

Thu Jan 19 18:07:06 UTC 2012

I wouldn't have either.  I had another friend who let his dog eat people 
food but only if it was in his bowl.  If he ate it any other place, he got 
in trouble.Barbara

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg
-----Original Message----- 
From: Donna Hill
Sent: Thursday, January 19, 2012 11:59 AM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] Old Dogs and Old Tricks

Brad,
I enjoyed this very much. I've lost 3 guide dogs to date, so I have some
understanding of the sadness, the profound gratitude and the humorous yet
often exasperating memories. They're tough and totally devoted, our canine
friends. It's a loss to us that we outlive so many of them, but if we showed
the same strength of character, perhaps it would wear us out sooner too --
or would it?

I couldn't help remembering the guide dog of a friend I knew in the '70s.
Brutus, a yellow Lab, was a wonderful guide, but full of surprises. One
night Vera  had set out a frozen roast to thaw on the kitchen table. The
next morning, she and Brutus's blind person Monk came downstairs to seea
yellow tail wagging between the wooden slats of a kitchen chair. He was
seated at the kitchen table, his front legs wrapped around the roast gnawing
away to his heart's content. I would not have done what they did, as it does
just encourage them. Since the roast was no longer fit for human
consumption, they let him keep it.
Donna

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Brad Dunsé
Sent: Wednesday, January 18, 2012 9:14 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: [stylist] Old Dogs and Old Tricks

This was a blog bit I wrote a year and a half
ago. A friend is experiencing similar, so I
looked it up and re-read it today. I tossed a
couple fixes in it but it probably could use
more. Nonetheless I thought to post it here as
is, despite its length of 1470 words. Don't feel
you need to scour over for detailed feedback. If
something stands out as your read, great.

Old Dogs and Old Tricks

The morning routine is commanded by a series of
whimpers and whines before I even get in a full
cup of coffee. Standing before me with a stubby
tail jittering back and forth, rear end swaying
left and right, intense pupils staring out of
brown eyes and a tongue dangling to the right
side of the mouth over huge teeth, is my old dog Buster.

Now Buster, surprising to most, is a she, not a
he. When I decided on a liver and white English
Springer spaniel pup so many years ago now, I was
determined to call him Buster Brown… you know as
the old shoe company? The fact that I prefer
female pups was no barrier for my naming
conventions. So walking through the parks and
neighborhoods with my wife to my left and pup
in-between, calling out shortened nick names
like, “Good Busty girl … That’s my Busty girl …
Come here big busty girl,” pretty much jerks the
heads of passersby as they dart widened eyes from
wife to pup to wife to pup, wondering “Which one is he talking to?”

The morning visual and audible ceremony is
reminder I need to give her a morning dose of
meds, or p I l l as I have to say, as to not
evoke canine hysteria. She likes the p I l ls
because she gets them wrapped in a small piece of
bread followed by a small handful of little dog
bone treats I scatter on the floor, to which I
call out “Scatter treats… scatter treats” OK so
I’m a total dorkster when it comes to my pup.

Now, Buster is nearly 14-years-old, has had a
wonderful life having gone camping, canoeing,
goose chasing, long walks, sightseeing, bird
watching, and really has lived a good, full life.
At fourteen however, her beer barrel body is
riddled with fatty tumors, for over a year now
has a fist-sized tumor in one lung, has tooth
issues, takes one med to keep the tumor from
growing too fast, takes another med to prevent
coughing and wheezing attacks caused by fluid
building up in the lung, and takes yet more meds
for joint medicine to help the arthritis. Her
back is swayed resembling an old 1900s barn soon
to cave in from the center. Her front-leg limp is
getting more pronounced, and her hip movement is
very stiff. She doesn’t always come when you call
because she is flat out tired. I question whether
she actually hears half the time, and she’ll
crash into your legs if there’s not enough lights
on. But, she is able to scale up and down 13
steps each time she goes out to do her job in the
back yard. She still enjoys her special moments
on a short walk, or blackened teeth from a good
dose of spring dirt from rooting around for
whatever she roots around for, as my wife and I
chat while swaying to and fro on our backyard
swing. To our surprise, as well as our
veterinarian’s … as she puts it, “Buster just
doesn’t know she is sick,” and continues to plod on without too much
complaint.

Now, Buster has had a long-time appetite for
bread products. Giving it to her as a medication
corn dog doesn’t help I’m sure, but I’m tired of
putting my fingers down a saliva filled mouth …,
if I’d wanted that sort of excitement I’d have
considered dentistry as a profession, so bread is
the preferred dispensation methodology.

Before you get misty eyed over this pup’s
condition, she still is able to pull off her
Houdini routine. What do I mean? Well, her
biggest trick is her disappearing trick. No. She
doesn’t disappear, however nice that might be at
times of misbehaving, which seems to be
increasing with age; it is the bread products that she can make disappear.

After catching her standing at the counter top
with her bowed rear-legs stretched to the ground
and nose to the air, sniffing out items on the
countertop, we began to be mindful of what was
left on the counter, as in when one comes home
from grocery shopping for instance?

Having gone down stairs to do something, my wife
had come down as well to put something away. We
heard a big clickety clack, clickety clack on the
floor upstairs. My wife and I simultaneously
snapped heads towards each other and dashed for
the stairs yelling “BUSTER!! Get out of there!”
By the time we got up stairs the only thing we
saw was a lip smacking smile on my dog, and an
empty plastic bag of freshly bought hot dog buns
on the floor, which disappeared in less than a
minute! Do you know what bread products tend to
do to an elderly dogs gastric activity? Let’s
just say there’s no need to blame the dog;
everyone in the house knows it was the dog.

Who is excused from the Houdini trick? Not
grandma, no. At my parent’s place where Buster
can do no wrong, my elderly mom had just gotten
home from shopping and I came up the stairs to
find her in a Sherlock Holmes hunch looking all
around the kitchen and hallway for something.

“You looking for something mom?” I said.

“Yeah. I thought I had bought some hot dog buns…”

Oh no! I thought. “Well, umm where were they?”

“I thought they were in the bag next to the
pantry,” she mumbled as she scoured the floor.

“Look for an empty bag mom; I think Buster may have found them.”

“Hahahaha,“ she laughed… “I don’t think so, I’ve
been right here the whole time. I must have put them away somewhere”.”

But nope. Sure enough, there lay the empty bag as
evidence the disappearing bun trickster struck
again, in broad daylight with people walking by!

This happened again the day of my daughter’s
going away get together, before she shipped off
to Kyrgyz Republic for her Peace Corps
assignment. An hour or so before the party
started, I heard my sweet soft spoken daughter
yelling, “Buster! No! Bad dog. What’s wrong with
you! Get out of there. Let go of it! NOW!”

Fortunately, our olfactories were spared by my
daughter’s save, but the buns were yet a loss from toothy punctures.

As I sat watching my pup this morning with head
in bowl, lapping up water in her traditional
triplet manner … slurp slurp slurp … slurp slurp
slurp … slurp slurp slurp …, legs quivering under
her own body weight, back caving from weakening
muscles, breathing through her nose as she drank,
hearing a snap of mucus in her nostrils now and
again as the effects of the tumor begins to
become more evident; for just a second the image
of a much more youthful Buster stood at the water
bowl. I remembered all the wonderful times we’ve
had together playing hide-n-seek with the treats
as she’s sniff them out under me as I lay on the
floor, making her think she called up birds with
her barks as I pointed out a bird flying by
saying “Call ‘em up pal… call up some birds!” and
making her balance a treat on her nose, her
staring at it cross eyed until I’d say “OK pal,”
then snapping her head in a circle and eat the
treat out of thin air. Soon the shapely muscular
image of my pup was replaced with the current,
swaggered version, and I realize time is drawing
near for us to say good bye to a very good
friend. As I watched and listened to her drink,
somehow all the mischievous antics and
misbehavior didn’t seem to matter much anymore. I
saluted her in my mind, honoring her maintenance
of a good disposition between the groans at
night, trying to get comfortable as she lays her
tired self for a night’s unrest, and struggling
on the 13th step on her way back up from her morning constitutional. .

We can certainly learn from these canine life
blessings we call pets… all the things she’s done
over the years that have upset or annoyed us seem
to have little impact as the chances for her to
repeat those behaviors are reduced daily, and the end draws closer.

Why then, can’t we afford that right to family
and friends now, instead of waiting until it’s
too late? The trick my old dog Buster has taught
me living her life, really unselfishly, despite
the natural instinct to capitalize on
opportunities when they present themselves, is
being there unconditionally for others when she
felt every which way but comfortable, and in her
own trials, only wants to please and spend time
with others, all the while hiding any discomfort
until it is just not possible any longer.

  Now… wouldn’t that be an old trick for a few of us old dogs to learn?

Brad Dunsé

"Unforgiveness is like drinking poison and
waiting for the other person to die." --Unknown

http://www.braddunsemusic.com

http://www.facebook.com/braddunse

http://www.twitter.com/braddunse
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.net <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>

stylist mailing list
stylist at nfbnet.org
http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
stylist:
http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/penatwork%40epix.net

=======
Email scanned by PC Tools - No viruses or spyware found.
(Email Guard: 9.0.0.898, Virus/Spyware Database: 6.19080)
http://www.pctools.com/
=======

=======
Email scanned by PC Tools - No viruses or spyware found.
(Email Guard: 9.0.0.898, Virus/Spyware Database: 6.19090)
http://www.pctools.com/
=======

_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.net <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>

stylist mailing list
stylist at nfbnet.org
http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for 
stylist:
http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/poetlori8%40msn.com 