We have been sharing dog-sitting responsibilities for the past 10 days. David, Louise and Jake across the street have been back in rain-soaked England, and Thor and Roy remained behind. As Louise warned us, they both are molting terribly. Craig and Jo Heritage's kids walk them several times during the day or take them to Lac Montbel for the day at their VeloMondo bike rental. Then my night duty kicks in. The dogs make themselves right at home as I cook dinner. Thor is a black lab, pure and simple, a bundle of people-pleasing pooch. Roy is an overly energetic border collie, wary at first of his new caretakers but a real sweetie. Thor is notorious for finding the the most in-the-way spot to lie, and Roy seeks out the most secluded niche available. Their dinnertime is 9 pm followed by a final pee-and-poop constitutional along one of the village pathways. Then they are tucked into their beds at their house, overlooking the River Touyre, awaiting mom and dad's return.
It was just about a year ago that we put our faithful steed O'Malley down, so this bonding with Thor and Roy has churned up alot of old O'Malley stories. Remember the time he got bit by the bear, stomped by the cow elk, drug by the pickup, or shot by a 44 Magnum, etc. There was none better.
8 comments:
It sounds like O'Malley had a slightly "over-adventurous" life! Luke never heard any of his stories...so all she can say is WOW!
Nancy;
I remember O'Malley; especially when you were trying to train him some. He was so tall that his head was nearly level with your head and his mouth looked mighty big to me! I'm confused; was it he or was it Pauncho that got in a mouth hold through the fence by the pit bull next door? Some exciting times!
Sadness on our part: a week ago we had to put down our cat, Bunner. He had cancer of the jaw. He was a mighty 21...pretty old for a cat. One great story on him was when we lived in the basement of the b & b we found out that he would wander upstairs to the bedrooms and with his head he would "knock" on the doors in the wee hours of the night. The guest would open their door thinking that something was wrong and all they would find was our cat! We eventually learned to close the door to the "below ground
double-wide" that we called home. Judy
Judy: It was Cisco that you helped me rescue from Michael Dunn's pit bull thru the fence slats. Remember Sharon brought out that gallon cannister of cayenne pepper to shake on his head to get his locked jaw to slacken?
Sorry to hear about old Bunner. That cat had about 9 + 97 lives. Is that the cat that used to "spray" your VHS while staking out his territory?
Lukas: O'Malley did have quite a few wild rides and adventures during his 13 years, and he even managed to take the 44 Magnum embedded next to his spine all the way to his cremation. We never found out who shot him. He was incorrigible for his first 7 or 8 years, and we always said that he did things on "O'Malley time"---when he was damn good and ready.
Luke can't believe anyone would shoot a dog with a .44 magnum...that's just plain sick! You can't help but hope that that person gets "a taste of his own medicine" one of these days.
I think it was that evil guy with the horrible hair who shot O'Malley, the one you liked so well Nancy, I just can't think of his name. All I can think of is Siegfried and Roy. Remember the ball of yarn in my knitting basket?
I also remember taking him in the VW bus, he would stand next to me, right over the gear shift, and he could easily look out the front windshield. I also seem to remember that he liked my chickens. Was it O'Malley who dug the long narrow holes to bury the elk legs? He was a great dog. Love, Leslie
I Just wanted to let you guys know that Hula was still digging up things O'Malley had buried in Moab. It was sad because it made us all miss him. he left a lastin impression in us all especially Hula, she still looks around for him before she starts to eat when we are in Moab. So we raised our glasses to toast O'Malley while we were there. For those that didn't know the old fellow, he was one in a million. Seemingly so independent but if you just spent a little time petting him when he was tired he was a pussycat. A very, very large pussycat! Granted he wasn't really tired for the first 12 years of his life...
Love, Amy
Amy, you will enjoy knowing that Thor reminds me of your old Huey. Now that he knows us better, when our respective front doors are open sometimes Thor wanders over and just parks himself somewhere comfortable for a spell or until he's missed. He makes me hanker for a hair-spreader again.
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