Where you – the reader – take over and I put my feet up. (Actually I’m headed to the gym.) Send anything about anything to peter.b.abrahams@gmail.com. I love this reminiscence from Maury M. Many thanks!
You Always Remember Your First
Duchess was my first dog. She was a mutt (we called her a Heinz-57 variety dog). She was the dog that I had while growing up in Albuquerque from about age 11 until I went away to college.
Duchess was definitely a sweet little girl, and the offspring of Cindy, my best friend Chris’s dog. Cindy managed to get around some and had a litter of two puppies – a male named Boots and a female named Duchess. Looking at them, you would never guess they were littermates – Boots was pitch black (except for his white feet, ergo the name Boots) and, as you see, Duchess was various shades of brown. Boots’ coloring was closer to Cindy, who also was a black haired dog, while Duchess must have had her father’s coloring. Boots was actually adopted by a neighbor (Tommy E.), but even though they lived only two doors apart, they did not see much of each other after adoption. Both were pretty much back yard dogs, which was a much more common phenomenon at that time. However, the summer before I departed for college, Duchess and I would go out for fairly long walks at night, when it would be cooler than during the day. She was very well behaved on leash and seemed to greatly enjoy the walks and the time we spent together doing that was very special indeed.
My mother was somewhat reluctant at first to have a dog in the house although Duchess won her over with her puppy charm. Part of her reluctance was probably due to the fact that she did not have a dog growing up, so Duchess was her first as well. I think my father may have had one growing up named Skipper, but details there are fairly sketchy. My grandfather lived with us through most of the time that I had Duchess, and he and Duchess were also best buds. At night, Duchess would alternate between my bed and my parents bed, moving back and forth as she desired. Duchess was definitely not fond of baths, although we were able to bathe her on rare occasion, with my dad primarily doing the honors.
After I left for college, I imagine it was fairly lonely for Duchess, living in the house with just my father who worked fairly long hours, although she was absolutely delighted when I came home for Christmas break. My mother had died before I left for college, and my father remarried shortly after I returned to school. Sadly, Duchess did not adjust well at all to the new household, and with great reluctance, my father had to give her up at that time.
In retrospect, my biggest regret was that, compared to my present state of knowledge about proper care of the members of the nation within, I was largely clueless as to proper dog care at the time, and there are many things that I wish I had done differently that may have given her an even better quality of life than she ultimately had. But she was certainly well loved and taken care of, and seemed to be very happy with her living arrangements and family, and hopefully she was never disappointed with the life she experienced being taken care of and living with me. And I confident that she has since been united with Wookie and Teddy (and Casey too) on the other side of the rainbow bridge, where they comfort and amuse one another and share sweet stories of their time on this side of the bridge.
5 Comments on “Phriday Photos”
Yes, we all have regrets along the lines of if I knew then what I know now.
I can’t believe how much that first photos reminded me of Cuppy. Cuppy was a bit larger and had longer legs, having more Keeshond in her and was gray. But in a B&W photo you can’t tell. We got Cuppy when I was 9 and you got Duchess when you were 11, so very similar in ages. I lived at home during college so I was there when Cuppy passed and then Mitzi a few years later.
It sounds to me like Duchess had a great life with your family and I’m sure your Dad made sure she had a great life with her second family. At least Duchess had the run of the house and got to sleep in the beds with her people. Maybe she was reunited with Boots at Tommy E’s house?
Poor Cuppy was never allowed on the furniture or to sleep in our beds. She had a lovely big dog house (probably too big) with enough room for her and Mitzi but by the time Mitzi came along they had baskets in the house for their beds and were allowed to sleep in them at night.
I think my Dad might have had a dog growing up. Not a personal dog but one in the household and at that time it likely ate nothing but leftovers. I seem to recall my Mom saying my Grandfather had a dog late in life and it was fed nothing but Milk Bones. Cuppy and Mitzi got FedMart kibble (if anyone knows or remembers FedMart it was the CostCo of it’s day.) They both got table scraps and leftovers too. At least the kibble of today is a bit more nutritious than in decades past and some dogs even have the option of “fresh” or “homemade” food. Better treats too.
I doubt Duchess was disappointed at anything, except maybe some regret when you went to college because she didn’t see you as often. Dogs have no jealousy because they only know what they know. It’s not like they meet up and compare lives with each other. Their sense of time isn’t like ours, living in the moment, so she likely wasn’t as aware how long it was between seeing you. She was simply happy to see you again.
With each dog that comes into our lives we learn more. I have regrets about each dog I’ve owned but they have each taught me so much that with each dog I own they live a better life than the one before. Diana knows no different but I do know Freyja is living a much better life than she would have had otherwise. I will never know if she realizes it or even thinks back to her time before.
Thanks so much for sharing the story of Duchess the first.
Greetings!
Thanks, WTAFP for sharing this story of Duchess. She looked like a very sweet dog, and your love and affection for her comes across in your story.
Good afternoon to all!
I agree! The times were different back then, and most folks didn’t know about dog handling. Our first dog was really my brother’s, a black cocker spaniel named Darky. I named him, was only 4, so I was innocent and did not know about the implication of the name. I AM surprised my parents agreed to the name. He was a very good dog. My brother innately knew how to train him and Darky accompanied Jim on Jim’s paper route, stayed by his side in the house, and slept in the laundry room. Jim was in college, home for Christmas, and I was 15 when Darky died. A Doberman dug out of his fenced yard and attacked him while we were at my grandparents for Christmas dinner. So traumatic!
Happy Birthday, Peter!
I must recount again the story of how Peter’s Birthday brought Freyja to me.
On Peter’s birthday there was a discussion on this here blog (the old one) centered around birthdays and if we knew our dog’s birthdays and if we celebrated them. I said I did (sorta, within a few days) and that yes, I celebrated them with toys and treats. Then I got to thinking about the Hesperia shelter where Diana was rescued as a newborn with her Mom and siblings. So I went to their website just to see what was going on and on the front page were three dogs, all red-carded. Two pitties and in the middle was Freyja. She looked so much like Cuppy I couldn’t believe this smiling gentle dog was on the short list. It was late at night but I emailed them and then set my alarm and early the next morning I started calling every five minutes and e-mailing every 15 min to find out if she was still alive (It was a Monday morning and I wasn’t sure how much time she had left) and if they would allow adoptions out of the county. Hesperia is in San Bernadino county. I finally got a response around 11 am that yes, she was still alive and yes they would allow me to adopt her but I had to be there by 4pm and I had to bring Diana. The tank was on empty so I had to gas up the car so we didn’t get going until noon. It’s normally only a 2.5 hour drive but with traffic we didn’t get there until 3:30. I took a number but there were lines and the time kept ticking. Finally at 3:45 our number was called and they brought her out, a smiling, happy dog who just wanted pets and to be loved. Diana was fine with her and she seemed to like Diana but me especially and so the deal was done. $90 later at 3:55, she got in the car with us and we left for the drive home. I made one stop to let them stretch their legs and pee but no one was interested in either. Freyja slept all the way home, no anxiety at all about the car.
She knew nothing of beds or the play bow but she watched and learned from Diana. There were a few incidents of things chewed and a tipped trash can but she settled pretty fast. Within three weeks I saw her on the security cam napping on her bed, legs spread and belly up to the sky, relaxed and content. Within in a month she had learned about toys. She didn’t bark for six months.
Freyja is the best “birthday” present Peter could have given me. As I like to say, it is all his fault.
So thank you Peter and a very Happy Birthday to you. Maybe Dottie will lend you her hat.
Happy Birthday, Peter!!! And thanks for the reminder, ML! These were all wonderful stories to read (except about the Doberman incident).