there's a thread about pets over at PJ, and I had to change what I was originally writing becouse it got kinda dark for me. haven't really talked about it for a long time, but I feel bad people not knowing what a good dog he was.
the best Dog I ever had was a Blue Heeler named Bandy
I bought his mom to raise working dogs when I was 15, and we bred her to one of my Dad's stud heelers, and her first litter I ended up selling all but three, I went outside one day when they must have been maybe a month and a half old and she had killed two of them, and looked like she had ripped the throat out of Bandy. My Dad and I jumped in the truck and we rushed him off into the vet, and they managed to sew him up. he was lethargic, and obviously traumatized, and it was wintertime anyway so I just kept him inside with me for the next few days and either carried him around or kept him on my lap for the next couple of days, and from then on, he never left my side. no matter where I went, he was always two and a half feet behind me and to the left. If I had to rode pastures horseback he'd follow me, and if He got tired, he'd just jump up and ride with me. he slept on my bed with me, something that did NOT happen in my house, Dad wouldn't ever let dogs inside unless it was colder than -20 outside, but Bandy was the exception.
he was the best behaved, obedient dog I ever worked with or owned. he was great at working cattle, and wouldn't quit no matter of he got kicked or bulls ran at him. he was smart and fearless, and never let himself get into a situation where he would get hurt, but never chickened out or let cattle get past him either.
I tought him to jump through my arms like a hoop, he could climb a ladder, sit up and shake, aside from riding a horse, he was always everybody's favorite at rodeos. I even made a set of bull horns for him, and we did a clown act back when I was still fighting bulls.
when I went to El Paso to finish high school, I wasn't able to take him with me, as the people I was staying with were allergic to dogs. he liked my parents well enough and although I didn't like it, I left him in Colorado with my folks. he managed to get untied though, one day and somehow knew to head south. Dad got a call from a vets office, and apperantly he had made it 30 miles before getting hit by a semi. the trucker took him to the vet, and they sewed his head up. he had no injuries except for a big scar across left side of his head.
the one thing he did that irritated me was he'd never stay in the back of a truck, he'd always try and jump out as soon as it stopped. so one day when I was working on a neighbors fence, (I had all the wore and stuff in my truck, and would drive along the fenceline fixing it as needed) he kept jumping out, so I just drove off and left him. he stood there for a long time, not really believing that I actually did it, and then started running after me. I went about a mile (we were far away from any roads or other vehicles) and he jumped in the truck and never jumped out again as long as I was near the truck.
finally, I moved to Kansas City, and was working with the Carriages downtown at the plaza, and there was no way I could safely keep him with me, so I put him in a kennel at the building we stored the carriages at about 15 blocks from where I was working. then my wife's uncle gets the bright idea that he needs letting out, and Bandy went off looking for me. we ended up finding him two days later at an animal rescue, and he was obviously panicked, he hadn't eaten, and wouldn't quit whining and trying to get away. (he never whined, barked or made any noise unless I had to leave him somewhere) I was so glad to get him back, but then two weeks later, my wife's idiot cousin, as if it wasn't already clear that letting him out wasn't already a BAD FRICKING IDEA. let him out, and no matter how much I looked, I never saw him again.
I really miss him, and feel sick inside everytime I think about him. so I try not to. it was 2003 when I lost him, so he would've been six. that was nine years ago so I doubt he'd still be alive, even under the best of circumstances.
best friend I ever had.