PaddyForever

So very, very, sorry. It's always so sad to lose the babies. Thinking of you.

Breeding can be so hard sometimes. I had a little boy Goldie in my last litter that I hand-raised for over three weeks. I had him checked by a vet twice, but he never put on any weight, despite the vet finding nothing evidently wrong. Of course, if he had survived long enough for more tests, we might have figured it out, but obviously something was majorly wrong. His own mother had tried to remove him from the litter box twice. She didn't hurt him, just placed him away from the others and left him. She knew more than we did. Still, pregnant as I was myself, I carried him around, kept him on heat, and fed him routinely, but in the end, his little body started giving up, and I had to let him go. It was so hard. He was so tiny, but his eyes had opened at two weeks, along with the other healthy puppies, and he had such a pitiful look in his eyes. He needed me to help him, and I finally took him to the vet for the third and final time. Losing them never gets easier. So sorry for your loss. RIP little angel.

So sad to hear of your loss. I lost my Goldie, Paddy, back in Jan. He was simply worn out. He left and took a huge part of my heart with him. Your Indy sounds like a lovely boy. I hope you have other dogs to cuddle, to help you through your sadness. Love to you at this time.

So very sad. Thankyou for easing her suffering, and showing her love before she left. She is at peace and free of pain now. Thankyou for your bravery in taking her into your heart.

Dreaming in the mid-day sun, I'm a pup again, see me run! Wind in my face as I go, Leaving those who love me so. I ran so fast my feet left the ground- And now I'm Doggy-Heaven bound. But don't worry, I'll be waiting for you- It wouldn't be Heaven without you here, too. So sorry for your loss.

Sounds like he had a giant personality. Farewell, beautiful boy. So sorry for your loss.

Bye-bye, sweet little guy. Spread your little wings and fly... How wonderful to love a little bird this much- he must have been special. I had a little budgie once, called Geoffrey, one of quite a few in an aviary, but he would sit on my head and talk madly in my ear while I fed the others. I always wondered what he was saying? Love to you and your special 'Nary'.

Sleep well with the angels, little man.

Such a horrible disease, cancer. It took my Dad. So very sorry for your loss. I'm sure you gave each other 12 wonderful years. My thoughts are with you.

What a lovely story! It sounds as though Angel lived up to her name I haven't had a dream like this of my Paddy, but I so wish I could! Paddy, if you can, pls visit in my dream tonight- I'd love to see you young, healthy and full of life again! Your Angel must have had a beautiful heart, to visit in your dream like that. Love to her, and you.

So sorry for your loss. Your mother-in-law did the last thing that she could ever do for him, and I'm sure he understood that. He passed from her arms over the bridge and is lying yawning and stretching in the sun. Love to you all.

Silverdog- What a beautifully written tribute, you made me cry again, and I'd just been crying whilst writing about my own Paddy, who I lost back in Jan, and only now could bring myself to write about. He was also C.D.X. titled, and a water-mad gun dog breed-a Golden Retriever. Your Nik sounds like a wonderful representative of his breed. It can be hard to love so much sometimes, but it can be wonderful, too. I'm sure you gave your wonderful boy a wonderful life. My thoughts are with you.

Paddy was my first Golden Retriever. He was such a handsome puppy, I knew that he would grow into a handsome dog. And I couldn't wait for him to grow up! He was so incredibly destructive! He destroyed just about everything that he could get his teeth into- clothes off the line were totally shredded, the backyard was turned into a demolition site, even the trees were ring-barked! He would grab hold of my sleeve and pull until my windcheater ripped- I wondered what on earth I'd brought home! At 14 wks, ie, as soon as I could, I enrolled him in Dog Obedience School. Of course, he hauled me around for the entire first lesson, and the instructor even suggested I stay away for a few weeks and practise at home, until I had him under control! Well, we went home and I stuck with it- for some reason I was already in love with that obstinate, arrogant brute! Two weeks later, we passed our first test into the next class, and by six months, Paddy was in top class. Of course, he then hit that terrible doggy teen stage, where he would take off on me at every opportunity, which was pretty awkward in top class, where all the other dogs were doing 'free' heeling! Then, I discovered 'reward', rather than correction training, and from there, we never looked back. I quickly discovered that Paddy was a lot happier to 'perform' when he thought that it was his own idea, knowing that he'd be rewarded for it! We entered our first competition before his second birthday, and by three, he had his C.D.X. title. By then, he was a calm, loving, highly sociable dog, who still had to be warned to stick around off the lead, but our bond was so strong. I could ask him what he wanted, and he would indicate by pushing the item that he wanted, or against a door with his nose to make me open it. Once, he even bought me a live mouse, and dropped it into my unsuspecting hand. It was stunned and in shock, and so was I, but I quickly scooped it up(I'd dropped it, screaming!) and literally drove it out of town. If it had survived that experience, then I figured it deserved to live! When Paddy was six, I enrolled in an animal acting class, and soon Paddy had commercials and still-photo shoots to add to his list of achievements. We also visited old-age homes, kinders and schools with different programs. Paddy would gravitate towards people with special needs, and he was never more gentle than when he was with them. Where had my 'hairy terror' gone? Paddy taught me that the smartest dogs are always the most trouble in the beginning, because no other dog that I have owned since, has 'communicated' as well as he did. Maybe it was the time spent with him, which was a lot. He saw me through my blossoming relationship and marriage, cuddled me through two misscarriages, and saw all of my four beautiful children into this world, loving us all. He was still alert enough to warn us when the Black Saturday bush fires were coming, despite us being told they were nowhere near us. His agitation worried me enough to take the children and get out. Our property was burnt out right up to the house. For the most part, Paddy had aged gracefully, really, and I know that I was lucky with that, too. But about two years ago, he had what the vet thought, may have been a stroke, a terrible fit that lasted a gut-wrenching ten minutes or so. I held him through it, while he cried and snarled, jerked and defecated, until he slowly came back to me. But I knew it was the beginning of the end. It was a couple of months until his next, at least observed, fit. He was put on medication, but it made him so drugged, that he kept falling over. Sometimes, he couldn't get up. I took him off the medication, and he had a fit every couple of months, which wasn't that often, I thought. But what if he was having fits I didn't know about? He had become prone to incontinence both ways, but I could deal with that. If my husband tried to gently suggest that it may be 'time', I railed at him that he just thought it would 'be easier'. I had become a Golden Breeder, first with Paddy's daughter, and we now owned 5 dogs, including Paddy's Grandson. One day, Paddy's Grandson had a girlfriend visiting for a mating. Paddy became over-excited, nothing I said or did would make him calm down. He raced around the yard after her, even though she was way off ready, falling over again and again, until he was literally dragging himself around after her. I had to call her owners to come and get her, but Paddy never recovered. That is the bit I feel so horrible about. He couldn't even get on his dog bed. He would cry for me to help him onto it, and cry again when he wanted to get off, and I'd help him to the loo. He'd have accidents where he lay. This went on for two weeks and didn't improve. I knew it was time. We got someone to watch the kids so we could take him to the vet. I had wanted him to pass at home, but we couldn't let our young children witness it, and I wanted to have him cremated, I couldn't have him anywhere but with me in the end. My vet, the vet-nurse, and my husband, left Paddy and I alone to say goodbye, and I told him how much I loved him, and that he was the best dog ever, and to say hello to my Dad for me. The others came in, Paddy lay there calmly and trustingly, and I held him close as the vet helped him pass over the bridge. And we all cried. He was 15 3/4 yrs old. He is in a carved wooden box now, on my buffet and under his portrait. As I run my hand over the carved wood, I remember the feel of his silken, golden fur, and know that it is only his earthly remains in that box, he is really running free over the bridge. I look at his beautiful Grandson, who I love also, but it's different. Paddy was my 'heart' dog, and I will never have another like him. The night he passed away, I was on Dogzonline, looking at baby puppies, and trying to feel better, and I clicked on French Bulldogs. There had been a litter born that very day, and I answered the add and got pick of the litter, my darling Ezzy, born into this world the very day Paddy left it! So I have Paddy to thank for her as well. She wouldn't be in my life if he hadn't left it when he did. All of my dogs have their own place in my heart, but the piece that belonged to Paddy broke off and went with him when he passed. Goodbye for now, my darling, clever, beautiful, arrogant, gorgeous boy. I loved you so. Thankyou, to whoever is still reading this not so little posting. If you have gotten to the end of our story, then you have honoured my boy, also. I promise never to post anything as long as this again, but we had a long, wonderful life together.