The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => People & Places => Topic started by: pmcd9 on November 11, 2007, 07:12:37 am
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An August member of our board is celebrating his birthday. All rise and give a big round of applause for our returning champion.
Happy Birthday Frank.
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Woo!
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Hoo!
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Fry an egg for yourself today. You've earned it.
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Your ability to sleep, eat, breathe, and breed for as long as you have is an inspiration for us all. Nice work on all that.
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You know a compendium of trivial information, yet you are so very far from being a trivial person! Bravo!
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Yeaaahhh! I hope you have an awesome birthday, good sir.
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Happy Birthday, Cuz. I hope you have a good'un.
Those candles must be getting a might' expensive, though, tell you what.
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Happy birthday, good sir!
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Happy you-day!
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Happy Birthday! I hope it is a great one.
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Happy!
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Thanks very much for all the good wishes, although this has been a pretty rotten birthday. My life in general is in a pretty lousy place, plus my dog died this morning.
But, other than that...
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Sorry about your dog, good sir.
I'm sure that he or she was a very good dog.
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Dude, having a bad thing happen on your birthday is worse than having it happen any other day. I'm sorry about that.
It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
Here! It's a tiny can. Maybe that will help?
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I am so sorry about your dog, August. What a crummy day to have it happen.
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Sorry to hear about your troubles AW. It feels trite to say hang in there because it has to get better but the kicker is that we don't have a lot of choice. I just hope it does get better in your case.
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Crap. I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. AW. I hope things get better.
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Aw, crap. Which dog? I know there was more than one.
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Aw damn. Damn! That sucks. If the movie title holds true, and if it's any comfort, I've heard that "all dogs go to heaven." Sigh.
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Aw, crap. Which dog? I know there was more than one.
It was the male boxer (the female died in July). He started having seizures the first week in October and the vets put him on phenobarbitol. This knocked him out and made him groggy most of the time, but it did control the seizures. Until about Thursday. I took him to the vet Saturday morning, and they did a blood test to determine the phenobarb level. Of course, he acted fine while he was there -- better than he had since before it all started. But he had another seizure on our way home and continued to have them closer and closer together.
He was lying on the floor of my bathroom, sleeping and kind of moaning, while I took a shower yesterday morning. I went upstairs to get dressed, came back down and sat down with a bagel. Mrs. West went into the bathroom and discovered him, not 20 minutes later.
He was a very good dog and a very good friend. I will miss him.
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Sorry to hear that, A-Dub. We had some scares recently with the chihuahuas - they had allergic reactions to their shots, and it was a case of "If we take them to the emergency vet tonight, we will not be able to pay our mortgage." Fortunately, it didn't come to that, but it was scary. If there's one thing I've learned from here, though, it's that most of the crew here feels it when someone loses a pet.
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This (http://www.flickr.com/photos/pmcd9/1991624077/) is the only picture of a boxer I have. Is this your guy that just passed away?
What was his name?
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This (http://www.flickr.com/photos/pmcd9/1991624077/) is the only picture of a boxer I have. Is this your guy that just passed away?
What was his name?
That's picture of Ginger, the female who died in July. Skipper was the male who died yesterday.
Here's a picture of them two of them together. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/frankdempsey/132480173/)
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They were beautiful dogs. My sympathies, again.
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They say it's terrible to outlive your children and I think dogs can pretty much fall close to that range, y'know?
As someone who is ridiculously crazy about her pets, I agree with this statement wholeheartedly.
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The fact that a pet's natural lifespan is less than twenty years is a pretty huge tragedy, I think. It makes me want to start keeping something that I know will outlive me -- a tortoise, maybe, or a clam. Or a sequoia.
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I've often thought about getting one of the large parrots for that reason. Maybe an African Grey since they are such clever-clogs.
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That reminds me when my ex Luke first met Milan and Lennybruce. They were adorable and little, and about 6 months old at the time. I was cooing and fawning over them ridiculously, and he said, "Somebody nice, what are you gonna do when they...when they go to kittyheaven?"
I was dumbfounded. I tried to explain to him that the fact that these little boys will likely not outlive me is no reason to avoid getting attached. I mean, can you imagine living a life trying not to "get too attached" just to try and avoid pain later? I can't. My little dudes make me so god-damned happy, as do most people's pets, I would imagine. As I type this, Milan and Lenny are digging through their mile-high kittytoybox that I knitted and felted for them, and getting all high on several of their approximately nine million catnip toys. It is hella cute. Milan just sneezed from violently huffing a pouch that is stamped "100% PURE CATNIP" and made to look like a miniature 20-kilo bag of kittyhash in a burlap sack or something.
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I've often thought about getting one of the large parrots for that reason. Maybe an African Grey since they are such clever-clogs.
Or a Norwegian Blue. Beautiful plumage!
...sorry
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Reading about Frank's loss reminded me of my great loss (http://www.flickr.com/photos/pmcd9/2006971260/).
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That reminds me when my ex Luke first met Milan and Lennybruce. They were adorable and little, and about 6 months old at the time. I was cooing and fawning over them ridiculously, and he said, "Somebody nice, what are you gonna do when they...when they go to kittyheaven?"
I was dumbfounded. I tried to explain to him that the fact that these little boys will likely not outlive me is no reason to avoid getting attached. I mean, can you imagine living a life trying not to "get too attached" just to try and avoid pain later? I can't. My little dudes make me so god-damned happy, as do most people's pets, I would imagine. As I type this, Milan and Lenny are digging through their mile-high kittytoybox that I knitted and felted for them, and getting all high on several of their approximately nine million catnip toys. It is hella cute. Milan just sneezed from violently huffing a pouch that is stamped "100% PURE CATNIP" and made to look like a miniature 20-kilo bag of kittyhash in a burlap sack or something.
Well, yeah.
That attitude baffles me too. Sure it hurts to lose someone you've loved. But the value of the relationship far outweighs the pain of loss. The whole reason the loss hurts is because what you had was so good.
Everything living is going to die. That fact, in itself, isn't sad. What's sad is if we let that fact of life keep us from enjoying each other.
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I had a girlfriend whos mother professed this belief even about her own children. She once told me to never get so attached to something that you couldn't leave it tomorrow, not people, not family, not things. Needless to say, her parenting was replaced with medication.
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So basically this woman was Robert DiNiro from Heat.
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So basically this woman was Robert DiNiro from Heat.
Jealously canned because I wanted to say that.
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yea but less criminal and more self-centered. Did anyone like that movie? I remember roughly 8% of it being good.