Hello Pups and Kitties: I think almost all of you know Ann of Zoolatry who makes such beautiful things for our blogs. I got to thinking that a Christmas Memory with our late Scottie, Otis, would make me feel happy, and it did. Isn't it beautiful?
We think of Sir Otis almost every single day. He came to us as an 8 week old puppy, after a lifetime of me, wanting a Scottie dog. I grew up during the FDR administration and I thought his dog, Fala, was the cutest thing there ever was, and I knew I would have one someday. So I was more than thrilled when I found Otis.
Otis was kind of a throw back to the bigger Scotties of years past. He had no fear of anything. In walking we could meet some dog four times his size, and he would stop and greet with his wagging tail, then march on! He had lots of walk friends too, dogs who would stop and sniff and greet.
When he was at home, he had lots of games he made up and loved to play. His hu-brother gave him a ball that made a loud WAAAAH noise which he loved more than anything. He loved to take that ball, place it on the kitchen rug, then pull the rug over it. He would then go off into the livingroom, wait some minutes, and come back to the kitchen, grabbing the end of the rug in his teeth, giving a huge pull, the ball would WAAAH, and fly, he would give chase and it would start all over again.
In the summer, he loved to take the hose and "water the lawn", getting himself soaked in the process.
One day, he was sitting by me, at the computer, and I saw a good sized Milk Bone on the counter. So I gave it to him. His pal Eddie, a little lasa mix, heard the crunch and came tearing in looking for his. So Otis dropped a half on the floor and nosed it over to Eddie, who grabbed it without so much as a thank you. But its the first time I had seen a dog "share" food.
Otis got to be 16 years old and suddenly, from a lifetime of health, he had multi problems. He couldn't see anymore due to cataracts, his hearing failed him, and he became confused about everything. He grew weak in his back end, and fell off the porch . He would NOT allow you to help him. Every night I would tell him, Oats, if you want to go be Jesus's dog, its OK with me, I will manage. But he knew I needed and loved him. So my vet and I agreed that the time was now, to end his life of confusion and fear. I stood next to him while he got the shot, and let him smell me, there with him. Me, the Vet and Vet Tech (who had known him for all his years,) sobbed together. Otis was gone, but his spirit has lived with me ever since the first day I knew him.
Sometime after he was cremated, I was at a little yard sale and found this print. Its framed and hangs over my kitchen table, Anyway, its a very old print, a black Scottie on a dark tan background and its my boy and I love it.
Thanks for letting me share some of my Memories of Otis. My Sweet Stella would have adored him.
Jo, Stella's Mom who had permission to steal the blog today.