Forget Diamonds, my Dog is my Best Friend

I have a Rhodesian Ridgeback, and she’s fantastic! Growing up, we rescued every dog we had except the second one. She was a pure bred Beagle named Princess, and someone stole her from us. Very sad. Our first dog was some kind of Aussie mix, but he had an unhealthy need to chase cars. He lived with three legs for a while because of his obsession, and eventually got around our defenses to meet his demise under the wheels of a car. After that, we had all kinds of dogs. One my dad spent a few weeks coaxing out of hiding. She finally gave in and let him follow her after having puppies in an old barn in the woods. We found homes for all her puppies, and she lived with us for about 8 years after that. Her name was Bear because that’s what my toddler brother thought she was when he saw her for the first time. We had another fantastic dog we rescued after someone threw her out of a moving truck. Just tossed her out going about 45-50 miles an hour. People are stupid. Anyway, she lived with my parents longer than I did, about 20 years (Chihuahua/Boston Terrier mix). We named her Cherry. We rescued a Collie trying to get into the trash behind a grocery store, scooped a little Lab mix puppy right off the interstate, and took in a Golden Retriever after her owner died. I kinda thought that’s just how you found the best dogs, really they found you.

My husband isn’t really an animal person. We didn’t have any pets until well after our kids were out of diapers. Mostly because we lived in an apartment that didn’t allow pets, then the babies came before we moved to our own house. I knew all the puppy stuff would be on me, and I wasn’t wiping human butts and cleaning up doggie poop at the same time. When we decided it was time to get a dog, he was super hesitant to rescue one. So, we talked to breeders, and found a Ridgeback puppy that was the cutest thing. She had been rejected by her original buyers because there was something wrong with her toe (ended up needing an amputation), and we got her at a discount. I called her my discount puppy until the amputation cost hit. She is now the most expensive animal I have ever owned, and I had horses growing up. πŸ˜‰

Every dollar was worth it, though. I’m not exaggerating when I say she’s fantastic. She doesn’t chew furniture. She doesn’t have accidents in the house. She’s pretty chill unless you’re visiting for the first time or you’re the FedEx guy. Her only vices are food and trimming toe nails. The food thing is mostly the breed. We were warned. And, I can’t really blame her for her issues with her feet. She went through a lot with her toe. She’s my shadow most days, following me around, laying at my feet. I could not imagine our lives without her. She’s my favorite child. πŸ˜‰

I really need to get one of those nanny cams to watch her when we’re not home because she does the craziest things. She can open a bottle β€” soda, chocolate milk, anything personal size that she’s not supposed to have β€” without destroying it, hold it with her paws and lick the contents out with her super long anteater tongue. We had to change the door knobs on our closets and pantry from oblong to sphere because she figured out how to open them. She can crawl into and wrap herself in a blanket like a taco. Cutest thing ever. She can jump higher than my head. She likes to close doors. She will walk into a room, turn around and close the door. We have to make sure we close the doors of rooms we don’t want her to get trapped in before we leave because this is such a problem. I think this is partially due to her love to make music with door stops. We have removed or replaced the springy annoying things because of her obsession. And, there are days I swear she knows exactly what I’m saying, like she speaks English.

One day recently, she faked an injury. I guess she decided she had been stuck in the house and neighborhood for too long and wanted to take a ride. I woke up, got the kids up, and was going about my morning routine. When I went to feed her, she limped to her bowl with her head down. After she ate, I asked her to come to me. She limped over and sat down. She limped when my husband called her. She limped when my daughter called her. It was her foot with the amputation. I was concerned, but couldn’t figure out what she could have done to it over night. She sleeps by my bed, and as far as I know, she was there all night. I took the kids to school, and when I came back, it was worse. She wouldn’t get up off the couch to greet me. She wasn’t following me around. It was SO weird. I called the vet and took her in. The very second we entered the clinic, the limp was gone. She was jumping and twisting, something she does when she greets people. It’s a little like her tail and her face want to reach you at the same time, and she moves toward you in a twisty sideways motion. I decided to leave her with them to see if after she calmed down from all the excitement, the limp would return and they could examine her better. It never came back. Because she was weight bearing and showed no distress in her excitement, they decided it couldn’t be serious like a break or anything and I should just watch her to see if it continued at home. I decided she was a little stinker who faked an injury to get out of the house.

Some days I’m not sure who is smarter, her or me, but I know she probably loves me more than I could ever love her. That’s just how dogs are. That does’t mean I won’t be giving her a run for her money, though, even when she faked injuries for a very expensive ride to the vet.

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