Digger--Friday, October 22, 2010
2:51 p.m.
Digger came into my life nearly nine years ago, when he was twelve weeks old. It was actually quite by accident that he came to live with us. I bought him for Haileigh's eleventh birthday as a way to help us both ease the pain we were feeling in our hearts at the time due to the circumstances that were in our lives at the time--we basically bought this furry, little boy child to replace the other man in our life. Geo and I were having trouble and, unfortunately, we had decided to separate (thankfully, it was a temporary separation). I called around to different dog farms, researching the prices of beagles--we love beagles. I even called the pet stores, but some of them were really expensive--some places were quoting prices in upwards of $500. We were starting to become disappointed because it didn't look like there was going to be any chance that we were going to be able to find our new addition to our family--after all, I was, at the time back in the position of being a single mother on a medical leave that left me receiving only half pay.
Finally, I found a place in the classified advertisements in the newspaper. It was called Jack's Dog Farm in Pipersville. My first question to him when he answered the phone was whether he was a puppy mill. He was actually offeneded, but I found out later that his defensiveness was due to the fact that he actually was a PUPPY MILL!!! The liar, and I was a fool but I look at it this way now--I saved Digger from the possibility of a really bad life. We were giving him a good home. When we got there, we walked over to the section of the barn that contained the hounds/beagles. There were several litters and we were drawn to the one that contained nine fifteen inch beagle breeds. They were tri-color and oh-so-cute. We dawdled on the cage for a few minutes and I was actually drawn more towards Digger's sister. I didn't want a male puppy--I wanted a female. However, Haileigh fell in love with this little ball of fur that we ended up, in the end, bringing home. I paid my money for him ($375), we loaded him into the car, and we were on our way home with my new "son".
He quickly became an important part of our family. At first, we weren't even sure what to name him. Then, we had him out in the backyard, and he started to dig a hole under the fence. Hence, the name "Digger" was born. His name definitely fit him. He has been the joy in my life for so many years. He has a lot of little quirks, that if he didn't have them, he wouldn't be Digger. He still, at the age of nine, digs holes in the backyard, he steals (money, food, tissues, underwear--you name it, he steals, and sometimes, chews it), howls, carries on, and absolutely loves his treats (his favorites are peanut butter flavored and Natural Balance turkey, cranberry, and oatmeal biscuits). He's got a terrible case of "separation anxiety"--which not only requires anti-anxiety medication (amytriptylline) in the morning, but if we don't stick to the same routine every morning, he will destroy the house (which he has been known to do). First thing in the morning, he needs to go out and just check out the yard. This outside time, is just so he can check out the weather. There is no bathroom business going on at that time. Then, he comes in and goes directly to his food dish because he knows what comes next--his breakfast of three tablespoons of wet food with his amytriptylline and prednisone slipped into it. Afterward, he goes upstairs and lays under the blankets and waits for Geo to come out of the shower and they have their bonding time in the morning. Then, it is back outside where he does his little dance until he decides where he is going to go to the bathroom--I guess that is an important decision for him. Finally, I leave for work and then a few minutes later, Geo leaves for work--but not before giving him his three cookies (he gets one right in his mouth and then the other two are thrown in different places in the living room and he is made to look for it). If we don't follow this plan to the letter, we really don't know what we will come home to. He has broken numerous vertical blinds, ripped our living room rug from the door to the middle of the room, and shredded our bedroom curtains. Who knows what he would have done had we not gotten to the bottom of his "issues".
It is amazing the things that we will do for our animals. They are truly like our children. I never thought, in a million years, that I could fall so much in love with a pet--especially one that drives me so absolutely batty. But, I have. At the present time, he is nine and a half years old. He will be ten on February third. We always have a little treat for him and we make him wear a birthday hat for his annual picture. He begs when we eat, so he always gets the leftovers from my plate (if you saw the way he looked at you, you would know why we always give in). Right now, he is suffering from horrible allergies so we have to spend a lot of money on the remedies--prednisone for the itching, another medication for yeast that tends to build up, an ear salve because he gets ear infections, and he gets a striping a Revolution once a month to help with the skin condition. We also have to give him allergy injections every so often. So, as I said, it is amazing what you will do for your pet--but if we didn't love him, we wouldn't do it.
We love you, Digger, and we are so happy that you came to live with us. Keep on trucking, little man, because we don't know what we would do without you.
Finally, I found a place in the classified advertisements in the newspaper. It was called Jack's Dog Farm in Pipersville. My first question to him when he answered the phone was whether he was a puppy mill. He was actually offeneded, but I found out later that his defensiveness was due to the fact that he actually was a PUPPY MILL!!! The liar, and I was a fool but I look at it this way now--I saved Digger from the possibility of a really bad life. We were giving him a good home. When we got there, we walked over to the section of the barn that contained the hounds/beagles. There were several litters and we were drawn to the one that contained nine fifteen inch beagle breeds. They were tri-color and oh-so-cute. We dawdled on the cage for a few minutes and I was actually drawn more towards Digger's sister. I didn't want a male puppy--I wanted a female. However, Haileigh fell in love with this little ball of fur that we ended up, in the end, bringing home. I paid my money for him ($375), we loaded him into the car, and we were on our way home with my new "son".
He quickly became an important part of our family. At first, we weren't even sure what to name him. Then, we had him out in the backyard, and he started to dig a hole under the fence. Hence, the name "Digger" was born. His name definitely fit him. He has been the joy in my life for so many years. He has a lot of little quirks, that if he didn't have them, he wouldn't be Digger. He still, at the age of nine, digs holes in the backyard, he steals (money, food, tissues, underwear--you name it, he steals, and sometimes, chews it), howls, carries on, and absolutely loves his treats (his favorites are peanut butter flavored and Natural Balance turkey, cranberry, and oatmeal biscuits). He's got a terrible case of "separation anxiety"--which not only requires anti-anxiety medication (amytriptylline) in the morning, but if we don't stick to the same routine every morning, he will destroy the house (which he has been known to do). First thing in the morning, he needs to go out and just check out the yard. This outside time, is just so he can check out the weather. There is no bathroom business going on at that time. Then, he comes in and goes directly to his food dish because he knows what comes next--his breakfast of three tablespoons of wet food with his amytriptylline and prednisone slipped into it. Afterward, he goes upstairs and lays under the blankets and waits for Geo to come out of the shower and they have their bonding time in the morning. Then, it is back outside where he does his little dance until he decides where he is going to go to the bathroom--I guess that is an important decision for him. Finally, I leave for work and then a few minutes later, Geo leaves for work--but not before giving him his three cookies (he gets one right in his mouth and then the other two are thrown in different places in the living room and he is made to look for it). If we don't follow this plan to the letter, we really don't know what we will come home to. He has broken numerous vertical blinds, ripped our living room rug from the door to the middle of the room, and shredded our bedroom curtains. Who knows what he would have done had we not gotten to the bottom of his "issues".
It is amazing the things that we will do for our animals. They are truly like our children. I never thought, in a million years, that I could fall so much in love with a pet--especially one that drives me so absolutely batty. But, I have. At the present time, he is nine and a half years old. He will be ten on February third. We always have a little treat for him and we make him wear a birthday hat for his annual picture. He begs when we eat, so he always gets the leftovers from my plate (if you saw the way he looked at you, you would know why we always give in). Right now, he is suffering from horrible allergies so we have to spend a lot of money on the remedies--prednisone for the itching, another medication for yeast that tends to build up, an ear salve because he gets ear infections, and he gets a striping a Revolution once a month to help with the skin condition. We also have to give him allergy injections every so often. So, as I said, it is amazing what you will do for your pet--but if we didn't love him, we wouldn't do it.
We love you, Digger, and we are so happy that you came to live with us. Keep on trucking, little man, because we don't know what we would do without you.
