Oldies - dont you just love em

c'mon guys tell us about the veterans in your lives.

I will start off with my oldest - Charlie - or "the unwholesome one" to give him his full title

Charlie is almost 15 and in his younger days he won a RCC. His claim to fame is his face is on mugs, greetings cards and keyrings. This is lovely because in a way he will always be around.

Charlie can snot on you from 15 paces and watch your handbag if you come to visit, he knows the ladies usually have mints in there and he will always leave you a greenie after he has rooted around for the sweeties :smt016

Well, I suppose I have to class my Kali as a veteran now - OK, I know "veteran" starts at 7 in show circles - as he's 11 (five days ago), but I don't like admitting to myself that he's getting into senior age. He has been in this house nearly as long as I have (I arrived on 23/12/93, he arrived in June 94), so he's part of the furniture (which he thinks is his, anyway ).

He's an inveterate jumper-up on visitors, and believes they have come to see him, not us. Unfortunately, not everyone cares for 3 stone of Border Collie smacking into their midriff at umpteen miles per hour!

His mission in life appears to be to rid the area of cats. As he doesn't get out to chase them, he restricts himself to hurling vile canine abuse at them, over the garden dyke. All but one take due note, and scarper over the horizon in a cloud of dust and small stones. The one that doesn't just stands in the road and gives him the cat finger. Cue more abuse, until one of us goes out to drag him indoors. The highlight of his life was when, on a walk, he managed to force one up a telegraph pole (still not quick enough to catch it, though!) - some sneaky devil (me!) warned it in advance!

He looks a bit older, with more grey flecks on his face, but he can still shift himself when he puts his mind to it!

Snorri

I love that "hurling vile canine abuse"

sums them up just brilliantly doesn't it LOL

Grey flecks, oh dear the sign of old age coming on.

Ian

Old dogs are the most precious of treasures. They are so wise, so knowing, so accepting and forgiving. They know every mood and every movement we make. I think they know us better than we know ourselves. They ask little and give so much. They teach us the meaning of peace, tranquillity, dignity, courage, acceptance, and how to find pleasure in the most mundane and simple things. Old dogs are indeed very special.

My Boy Sweep is my 'Golden Oldie' now he will be 10 Human yrs old in October, but he has always been 'old'. He had puppy strangles at 5weeks old, the Vet wanted to PTS as he was so bad, but I nursed him through that, he has had lymes disease, also has had mast cell tumour, he has a lot of lumps and bumps now, we lost his sister during caesarean and he was depressed for a long time after that(seriously) when we had his Mum Poppy pts we brought Poppy Home with us so Sweep could say 'Goodbye' It was a heartbreaking moment but the right thing for us and Sweep.
He grudgingly goes out for a walk, but he is such a charactor, I love him to bits :smt049

Veteran dogs are wonderful!

My sheba was such a laid back girl! Got her when she was 6 weeks old and she was with us until she was pts at 11! She was also always an old dog really. When she had her first season she changed almost overnight and became a proper little lady. Never played with toys despite all our efforts to persuade her otherwise. She was amazing and very protective of the kids and in her older years she was such a sweetie!!! Though she was always that way!

I have had four old ladies in the past, all of them were very special and sadly missed, and all of them lived to a ripe old age of 16 which is a very good age for a german shepherd. All of them could still manage to get outside into the garden and all died naturally, apart from one who had a stroke in the middle of the night, so we had to call the vet out and that was very sad for us both.

I just love the oldies, but find it so sad to watch them when they turn old and fragile, remembering how agile and loony they were as youngsters - I wish we could have them forever!

The last few posts put me in mind of my first ever BC, "Glen". He was rescued from a freezing river, where some <bleep> had thrown him (with a pit brick tied to his neck). Vet thought he was about 6 months old. My parents took him in, and he was well over 18 when he died. I am always sorry that I was at boarding school when he left

I remember the last time I saw him, I was being compelled into the car to take the train back to school, and the old lad wandered out. It was as if he knew we wouldn't meet again; he rested his chin on the palm of my hand and looked up at me "just so", tail wagging gently. Truly a special boy.



There were four Cocker Spaniel bitches after him, whom I miss, too, but somehow there's never another quite like the first.

Sleep well, old boy.

Snorri

Oh Snorri, that's brought back memories, of when we had to part with our two BC's They know don't they when the end comes.

Ian