I have the worst luck with dogs. I have three of them 2 labs, and one extra large mop. Doc is the oldest he is almost 9, and Steve had him when we got married in fact he turned 3 the same day we got married. Doc is really the whole reason I ended up with Steve, he loved me from the minute I walked in the door, and I loved him. Who couldn't help love a dog that weight 102 pounds and jumped off the top of the stairs to greet them, with that look in his eye that just said "caught me". He has seizures, has had them since he was about 6 months old. I think he is just brain damaged from living with Steves ex for the first 6 months of his life, she was a crazy lady, maybe I will tell you about her someday. Anyway Doc had a seizure tonight, so I am writing about my four legged babies. When he has them it scares me, because I love my dogs so much, and I am always terrified that this might be the last one he has. We could have put him on meds, but we wouldn't have him now, as they cause a great deal of liver damage. So I hold him and rock him and tell him mommy loves him, and he is going to be ok all the while praying he comes out of it, and so far he always has.
Then their is the middle child who is 6, Jake, he is the diabetic. Steve got him for me on my birthday the first year we started dating. The gift that keeps on giving, never give someone your dating a dog, you end up keeping the dog and marrying the person your dating. He is Docs real brother, by that I mean he has the same four legged parents, but came for a different litter. See I really do know I am not their birth mother. Jake is my best friend really. He knows all my deep dark secrets, because he sleeps with me. Before he will go to sleep we have to talk for half an hour or so, and if you quit talking to him he pokes you until you say something else. He can be very persistent when he feels you have not told him everything too. Him and Steve actually have to fight for the spot next to me. Jake requires 2 shots of insulin a day, and special food, he is rather expensive, and probably eats better then the humans in our house.
Last but not least is my stray, Buddy. He showed up, and won't go out the front door now. I have to drag him to the car just to take him for shots. After I tried to find an owner and couldn't I decided to keep him. Yes I tend to take in strays, but don't show up unless you plan to sleep on the couch, there are already to many creatures fighting for a spot in my bed. I took him to the vet to get him fixed, because it is my goal in life to torcher the male species. The vet told me he had been beaten severely, and had a couple BB's stuck in him, which makes me sick. We have guns, and the boys have BB guns, you have to be pretty damn close for it to stick under the skin. I couldn't give him away after that, the poor little thing had been through enough already. He has been a pretty good boy, the vet said she thought he was about a year old, so now he is about 2 and a half. He doesn't seem to have any lasting effects of the beatings, but he still has nightmares once in awhile where he will cry and shake.
Wow I think this is the longest post I have made. Sorry to ramble on, I think I just needed the therapy after Docs seizure. Hope I didn't bore you all to much.
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