Category Archives: Pets

Buddy the Dachshund March 30, 2005-November 9, 2021: In Memoriam

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Buddy’s “I love you pose” . We have NO IDEA when or where he learned it.

I first saw Buddy at 613 Flagstone in Ft. Oglethorpe at Ray Brown’s (Sean’s dad) house early 2006. He had been neglected, a rescue dog, and brought to Sean’s office to go to Ray’s house. He didn’t even have a name. You could also tell that children had annoyed him and/or abused him. There were neither scars nor broken bones on this thin, handsome miniature black and tan dachshund with a wounded soul. Sean said he was timid and covered with mud when he was brought to the office. Sean gave him a bath, made sure he had plenty to eat, then transported Buddy to Ft. Oglethorpe to be with Ray.  

The evening I first saw Buddy he was already spoiled. Buddy had already been eating people food (fried chicken, bacon, cubed steak, whatever Ray had fixed for himself that he shared with Buddy), tried to sleep in Ray’s huge, king-sized bed but didn’t know quite what to do since he had slept outside probably on a chain for a year, but Buddy already felt LOVED. Buddy would not stop springing up to our knees showing his delight for whatever kindness we showed him. It was dark that evening, but I took him for a walk around Ray’s neighborhood. Ray was using an oxygen tank 24/7, and it was difficult for him take Buddy out frequently. Oh, yes, Buddy… he didn’t have his name yet. From the time I met Ray late 2003, his #1 nickname for Sean was “Buddy”. After Buddy had been with Ray for a few days, Sean mentioned to his dad that “Buddy” would be an easy name for Ray to remember. Ray loved the idea, and it didn’t take long for our intelligent little dachshund to recognize his name.

In the beginning, Buddy was a HORRIBLE car rider. In May of 2006, I took him to be neutered. He was all over the vehicle whining. He would even place his front paws up on the steering wheel and peer over it. He looked like he was driving, and to any passer-by up high enough along side of me to see into my truck they could see Buddy “driving”. He also jumped down into the floor board near my feet several times while I was driving. He made me a nervous wreck! Thanks be to God, by the autumn of 2021, he was calm, cool, and collected as he rode in a vehicle.

The last week of January 2007 Ray had to be admitted to Memorial Hospital. After visiting Ray on his admission evening, I drove past Ray’s house to pick up Buddy and Murphy ( a rescue cat) to bring them to our house until Ray was better. Sophie our female dachshund who was our “baby” until Ammon and Carter came along was a bit jealous of Buddy, but not too bad. The worst part of having her guest was sharing her food. Her food was off limits, but her love and care towards Buddy had NO LIMITS. Buddy was totally confused and afraid of using the stairs. As I mentioned in our tribute to Sophie when she passed in 2018, she taught Buddy how to use the stairs. It was a marvel that I will never forget as long as I have a memory. She taught him to take his time and conquer one stair at a time until he was down to the first floor. Several days later, he could go both up and down the stairs. On January 27, 2007, Buddy became our permanent fur child when Ray passed. The rest for us was nearly 15 years of Buddy joy. He was our “Buddy-Buddy boy who gave us Buddy-Buddy joy”.

He did finally love sleeping in a bed.
Buddy’s favorite position on the Bonus Room couch.
Tolerating a pic made by Sean

Buddy was so faithful to Sophie, Sean, Ammon, Carter, and to me. He didn’t know he was a miniature anything. Except for squirrel or his favorite, rabbit tangents, he would walk/jog with us for an hour. After his diversion off the jogging track in and around the barn or through some thicket of trees or shrubs, he would be right back near our feet trotting at our jogging pace. While he was healthy, he only took one jogging break after the neighbor’s dog bit him on his back. He was out of commission for about 2 weeks, but soon he was right back to the jogging. Both Buddy and Sophie LOVED running up on Grindstone Mountain with me and the coonhounds which we did on a regular basis until Carter and Ammon were born the autumn of 2008. It was Sophie’s last trip up on Grindstone December 30, 2017 that we noticed that both Buddy’s agility and eye sight were waning. He misjudged a leap across a boulder and fell in a crevice that was perhaps 8 inches deep. He was by no means harmed. It was well-padded with fallen leaves. We scooped him out quickly. We also noticed that he had trouble on the house steps that went from wood steps to carpet steps. Something about his clouding cataracts caused trouble in the visual transition. By the end of 2020, we started carrying Buddy up and the down the stairs because he kept trying to judge the stairs, misjudged them, then tumbled backwards to kitchen floor.

He had several bouts of health problems from back pain (hereditary dachshund back ailments as well as where the neighbor dog bit him), teeth problems, and finally congestive heart failure! We thought we were going to lose him on April 25 of 2021. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, but all the symptoms were looking like pneumonia. The vet at the emergency room clinic wanted to put him down. We said, “In the name of treating a 16 years old dachshund with mercy, please treat him for pneumonia with a powerful antibiotic, and if he lives through the night at his house, then he will die where he is loved.” She complied and we brought him home. He did make it through the night, and he lived for another 6 months!

The first week of November, Buddy made it through a seizure that Sean saw as remarkable. The next morning after the seizure, Buddy acted fairly normal and ate quite a bit of baked chicken. However, it quickly went downhill that evening and the next day. When the vet told us Buddy had kidney failure just a few days after his seizure, we really thought he would rally and make it through the New Year. We had seen Buddy rally so many times. We weren’t fools. We knew that day would come when he wouldn’t “bounce back”. That day came on Tuesday morning November 9, 2021. Sean had been Buddy’s constant nurse maid for almost a week. Sean was with his “Buddy” (remember Buddy was Ray’s endearing name for Sean for decades) until Buddy took his last dog breath and crossed into dog eternity. We know Sophie was waiting for her brother and Ray was reunited with his fur baby, “Buddy”. The three are all enjoying heaven together as I type this.

Thank you, God , for our fur babies and our fur “buddies” especially our Buddy-Buddy Boy.

Outside , geriatric “romp”
Buddy & Lexie/ The Pro
Buddy helping Daddy H with a 2021 Power Point Presentation

Judy: The Blackberry Picking German Shepherd

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shallow focus photography of berries

Photo by Thierry Fillieul on Pexels.com

 

 

Blackberry picking is a summer ritual for me just as catching lightening bugs, catching June bugs and sometimes trying to fly them on a string, listening to the katydids, and sitting somewhere under shelter while listening to a summer thunderstorm. I was mowing several weeks ago, and I hopped off the tractor to move a garden hose. Near our swimming pool fence where the hose lay were some blackberry bushes. I picked a blackberry, ate it,  and with its taste came 50 years of beautiful blackberry memories: Evenings when the whole family picked blackberries together, homemade blackberry cobblers, and my bud, Judy.

I love dogs, and I cannot remember life without them. My pet dogs are a part of my essence, and all of them hold a special place in my heart. I am not done with living yet, so I cannot say that Judy was .. THE ONE… that ONE CANINE SOUL MATE…. But she comes pretty close. Judy had many talents and gifts. Lord willing, I will expand on some of them in future blog entries, but this entry is dedicated to Judy the German Shepherd and her blackberry picking abilities.

 

Judy_Haven

Judy & Haven: July 1986

 

Have you ever had a dog that could/would pick any berry: strawberry, blackberry, blueberry (kinda high off the ground I reckon), a muscadine, or a grape? Well, my Judy would blackberry pick with me. I have no idea when she started nor do I have any recollection of her watching me. However, my Judy surprised me one summer evening while I was strolling through our yard.  On the edge our yard near a pine grove, there were some blackberry brambles (bushes). In case you are reading from another area of the United States or the world, the OVERWHELMING majority of our blackberry bushes grow on thorny stalks/brambles. As a blackberry grows on its bramble, it begins as green, then turns red, then turns “black” (deep purple). When it is black it is ready to pick and eat. Well, Judy had been walking by my side, and she stopped to watch me inspect and eat some blackberries. When I finished, she took her turn at finding a blackberry to eat. She sniffed, inspected the remaining, unripe, red blackberries, sniffed again, then ever so delicately (remember there are thorns everywhere) nibbled off a ripe blackberry. After she swallowed, she nipped another berry. I laughed, knelt down, and gave my girl a big ‘ol hug. “You stinker! You sure are smart!” , I said… and yes, she was very intelligent. That was all she wanted that evening. She would eat blackberries with me in later years, and it always amazed me.

Friends and family, I love it when you post your comments in response to my blog entries both here and on other social media. Please share the summer antics of a special member of your fur family: Either past or present. We need some heart-warming stories to make us smile this summer of 2020 and post some pics if you can.

blacberry-2020

July 8, 2020: While picking some blackberries for a smoothie, I snapped this pic in memory of Judy. 

Sophie Chose Us: Sophie Caylor-Brown (Dachshund) June 25, 2005-May 12, 2018

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sophie_ddays

 

Sophie Caylor-Brown (Dachshund) June 25, 2005 – May 12, 2018

 

Shophie Chose Us

Sophie Caylor-Brown was born in Jasper, Tennessee. When Sean and I decided to select a dachshund puppy in the summer of 2005, we found Sophie’s owners’ names in a newspaper. The small yard in Jasper was full of adorable, dachshund puppies on Saturday July 23, 2005. Sean had wanted a black and tan dachshund male like his beloved, “canine brother”, Paco, from his childhood, but a little, humble, and sweet black and tan dachshund girl followed us around for over an hour that day. I talked Sean into getting that black and tan dachshund girl, and the rest is Caylor-Brown history.

She was loved by every human she came in contact with. She even learned to get along with Madison our 18 year old Tom Cat this past year. They had always been household enemies.  Many times these past 12 months she could be found waiting patiently by their water bowl while Madison “tanked up”.

She could fit in our shirt pockets when she was four weeks old. She would run with coonhounds in the woods. Katie, the mama coonhound, protected Sophie like she was one of her own puppies. She traveled to Florida with Sean and me when I defended my doctoral dissertation in Sarasota, Florida. As we traveled to Sarasota,  Sophie swam on the quaint Fort De Soto Dog Beach: she was a natural. When Buddy our rescue dachshund came to live with us in 2007, Sophie took him in as her adopted brother. Buddy had never gone down steps, so Sophie had to teach him. After he could not bounce down 14 steps, she returned to his side, bounced down one step, turned long ways on the step, looked up at him, and bounced to the next step down until he followed down all 14 steps. She was also one of the few dogs in my lifetime that chose to chase lightening bugs.

 

sophie_bug

Sophie chasing lightening bugs June 12, 2012. 

When Carter and Ammon began to swim, she was so anxious and would not hush barking while they splashed. She would try to jump in to make sure they were okay. She fell in twice (she didn’t like it! LOL), so she resorted to running up and down the side letting us know her concerns.

Her number one vice that finally allowed her passage to the Rainbow Bridge was her love of food. What hound dog doesn’t like to eat? Her motto was, “If you can get up in the morning and eat, it’s a good day!” On Saturday May 12th,, 2018 around 8 PM she had a swollen belly and was lethargic. Earlier and with much gusto, she had eaten her evening meal. After the dachshunds ate, Sophie, Buddy, and I went outside, and I called my mother. Sophie lay on the step breathing heavily. Like so many times before during the past 12 years, I thought she had over-eaten.  I sat beside her, kissed her nose, and opened the back door. She jumped up and trotted in . 90 minutes later, she was flat and listless, yet still very conscious. We four immediately took her to the 24/7 vets.  She would raise her head and sniff, but she would not kiss us nor wag her tail. Vet Dr. Belt said she could see internal bleeding. We all concluded that Sophie, the scavenger, had eaten a dead rat that had been poisoned. That was 10:30 PM . By 11:30 PM, our beloved dachshund was dead from cardiac arrest.

Thank you, God, for allowing Sophie to choose us. She was such a good girl and part of the family. We were blessed to have her, and , yes, she was blessed to have us as well.

Hawk’s November Dinner

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Earlier in the year, I wrote about “our” Red-tailed hawk carrying off what I had hoped was a venomous snake (https://havensideals.wordpress.com/2011/07/06/hawk/). I had nothing to do with aiding Hawk with its meal that day; however, Thursday evening I helped Hawk find its dinner.

There is a section of our 13 acre yard that hasn’t been mowed since July 2010. The sage brush, fallen over fescue grass, and the unidentifiable 4 feet tall weeds were HORRIFIC. However, our AWESOME New Holland TC40D tractor chugged through the section and mowed quite well. About an hour into mowing I was getting ready to round a corner, and I saw a huge bird light on the ground about 20 feet from me and the tractor. It was Hawk!  It looked right at me, pecked on the ground, and flapped up to one of the Pin Oak trees that line our driveway. I could tell that in its talon it had what appeared to be a field rat. I had seen all sorts of rats, mice, and rabbits scurry as I had been mowing. I had kind of forgotten about my live “bird of prey nature scene”, but as I was headed to the barn after mowing, Hawk sat up in a Black Walnut tree eyeing my work.  I humored myself by waving and saying, “You’re welcome!” (Seriously, I was glad to help). ;o)

Starting Saturday….more of our October 2011 Cruise!

Caleb the Coonhound

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American Black and Tan Coonhound,
Caleb Caylor-Brown (April 13, 2003-November 9, 2011)

Caleb was born at Mamaw’s house under
my bed on April 13, 2003 on a Sunday night. I have raised many puppies in my
lifetime and most of the ones I have kept as my own I have “willed” them or
conditioned them to be mine and for me to be their master.  However, I observed very quickly that Caleb chose me to be his master.  When Caleb and his siblings Sissy and  Ferd were approximately 3 months old and we would come in from hunting in the woods,
Sissy and Ferd would cuddle up together on their dog pillow, but Caleb would
fall asleep on my hunting boots. One evening last week, Caleb spent about 30
minutes jogging around our field with Sean and me. Every 5 minutes or so, I
would bend down to pet his head or to touch noses with him as he and I trotted
together in sync. With each pet or nuzzle he would wag his tail and keep on
trotting with me.  I had no idea we just had another week together.

(Caleb is on the left with Carter)

The following things may sound contrived or “make believe”, but the first thing to
share was that two mornings ago when I turned out the dogs to enjoy their day on the
mountain, I called each dog to me, kissed them, and prayed that they would make
it back to the house safely. In 5 minutes, they were all up on the mountain
bawling after what I thought to be deer. That was 9:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning.
Caleb did not make it back home until 7:30 a.m. on Wednesday morning. He looked
perfectly normal except for a swollen belly, and I thought he had come home
exhausted and drunk a bunch of water. I patted his head and we nuzzled nose to
nose. I said, “You rest, and I will be back later.” When I returned at 10:00
a.m., he was dead. He did, indeed, make it home to me, and I am so grateful to
God that he did.

(Caleb on July 18, 2011)

He was buried quite quickly with a back-hole digger and just in time, because it
started raining just minutes after the grave was packed down. One of our vets said Caleb died with a Gastric dilatation-volvulus (GDV). It was basically a gas bubble that twisted his stomach and eventually blocked blood flow to the brain, then unconsciousness, then death. Very few dogs even live through surgeries that try to correct the GDVs. I was also thankful that his death was “natural causes”.

Wednesday evening around 7:30 I went out to throw some scraps out to the wildlife of our woods, and I stopped by to see Caleb. I had no sooner stepped to the side of the interment when the rain clouds rolled back like some scroll, and the full moon  with Jupiter beside it
showed brightly down and illuminated Caleb’s final resting place. I thanked God for 8 years with my Caleb, and over the mountain I heard the echo of someone’s shot gun. It was, undoubtedly, a coon hunter out for the evening. It was very apropos for Caleb and for me.

Hawk

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For several months, we’ve had a “hawk buddy”. It’s a
Red-Tail Hawk, and we’ve seen several hawks raised up on the mountain behind
our house for several years now. One of my favorite events I’ve seen in the
raising of the hawks was about a year ago, when the parent hawks were teaching
their fledgling who had just learned to fly well to “dive bomb”! It was so
cute: the parents sitting on top of the tall oak trees watching while their “baby”
practiced bulleting down from the blue sky to the mountain tree-tops. Carter,
Ammon, and I started calling to the hawks last year, and, believe it or not, it
has answered us a time or two. One time we had not heard it all day, we started
calling it, and in two minutes, it called back to us from our neighbor’s yard. So,
thusly, we started calling it our friend.

Last Sunday evening, we were swimming in the pool, and out
of the corner of my eye I could see Hawk darting through the tree-tops between
our house and our closest neighbor’s house. I turned to Carter and Ammon who
were enjoying a great swim, and I said, “Hey, you two! Hawk is flying around.”
In a about a minute, I saw it again circling above with something in its
talons. In an excited tone, I continued, “I think Hawk has something to make a
nest!” I kept looking, and then it dawned on me, it wasn’t a long piece of
straw or stick, it was snake! I had seen animal-nature specials on televisions
where eagles and such catch animals like this, but I had never seen it live with my own eyes. It
reminded me of the Mexican national flag with its golden eagle destroying the
viper in its talons sitting on the nopal. It was a neat, nature moment. We just
hope it was a rattlesnake or a copperhead! ;o)

(This isn’t our photo, but it gives you a visual of what we saw)

Mowing with Barn Swallows

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No matter how hard I try, there is about a month every April and May when I don’t get the fields mowed. It’s usually because we have so much rain in those months, and the tractor would bog down in the mud (well, it’s a good excuse anyway!).  During those two months, the fescue grass grows rapidly and reaches over 3 feet! When the ground gets dry enough, I begin to mow, and it takes about a month to get the grass back down to a decent height. Although it takes the mower about twice as long and the mower pushes half the grass down instead of mowing it, there is a fun and enjoyable event almost a tradition if you will: The barn swallows mow with me.

Barn Swallow

It happened last year as well, and I had forgotten until Thursday. I was mowing, and suddenly I saw a barn swallow zipping past me to the left then dipping in front of the tractor. In a few seconds, I saw two swallows flying around. In about 15 minutes, I counted four swallows circling about. It was like “Barn Swallow Circus”. The best thing I can hypothesize is that my cutting the tall grass stirs up all sorts of insects and as the insects begin to fly, the swallows begin to feast! Several times, a particular swallow came within 10 feet of the tractor in a playful manner as if to be saying “Thank you!” It was so cute, and I enjoyed mowing with my avian buddies.