tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78108850246291652512023-11-16T04:29:21.483-08:00Sadie: A Medium-Sized Dog with Infinite DreamsOn 9/11/14, we found out our beloved pit bull mix has cancer and likely only a few months to live. We—TF (the mom) and J.T. (the kid)—are going to use this blog to capture some fun memories and tell Sadie's storyFaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-39216510365593625372015-11-07T16:57:00.001-08:002015-11-07T16:57:17.983-08:00It's been almost a yearWhen I woke up Halloween morning, I was mostly thinking about the actual day and that J was having a friend over, so we had some cleaning up to do. Then I got on FB, and checked the "On this day" feature, which is great for someone like me, who is very forgetful. Well, on the past few October 31s, I posted pictures of Sadie, because it was her birthday. At least that is when we celebrated it.<br />
<br />
I felt sad for not remembering it was Sadie's birthday. And then I felt sadder, knowing she was not with us. I cried for a minute or two. But then I was okay.<br />
<br />
This coming Tuesday will mark the one-year anniversary since Sadie has been gone. I can hardly believe it has been that long. Time seems to be going by so quickly anymore.<br />
<br />
I am sure I will shed a tear or two that day. I am shedding a few now.<br />
<br />
I think it is funny how some people (maybe many) tend to remember the best in things. I recently met some friends for an early dinner. One of my friends dog-sat for Sadie for four days the summer before this one. She asked how Bai was, and I said she was the worst dog ever. And Amy said, "You said the same thing about Sadie." I was surprised. I really did not remember saying that. Sure, at times, I know I did. She did some things that drove me crazy. But to think I regularly said she was the worst dog or that I said that to Amy. I felt bad. But, in a way, good too, knowing that I clearly remember the best about Sadie.<br />
<br />
I don't miss her attacking the vacuum cleaner; biting rags, paper towels, and tissues out of my hand; biting the remote downstairs (but not the identical one upstairs). I certainly don't miss how she would growl at J whenever she came into my room when Sadie was lying on the bed. And I mostly try to forget about how sick she was the last few days. I remember well Sadie. I also remember deaf Sadie, and she was kind of funny. But very welcome during her last Halloween. I remember the Sadie that liked to snuggle. The Sadie who would always put her head on my chest when we would lie in bed, whenever I said, "Put your cappy down, Sadie." I remember the Sadie who would bark one bark when she wanted to go outside. I remember the Sadie who had a couple of stuffed animals the last few years of her life that she would pick up, carry around, and toss about, but not destroy. I remember the Sadie who was always happy to see me when I got home. I remember the Sadie who let Jordan dress her up. <br />
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Sadie, I miss you.Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-66686529381365701672015-09-14T17:40:00.004-07:002015-09-14T17:40:59.195-07:00It's been a year since we knew the end was near.I pretty much stopped blogging about Sadie a week after she died. It was hard to do, and we got adopted a new dog not even a month later. Because I found myself forever comparing Bailey to Sadie (and Sadie wins pretty much every time), I more or less decided that was the end of Sadie's blog. That Jordan got bored with it was also a contributing factor.<br />
<br />
But thanks to Facebook's "On This Day" feature, I was reminded that we found out that Sadie had cancer on 9/11. I actually thought it was a different day; 9/11 normally depresses me so much as it is, so I am surprised that sad Sadie day would not have stuck with me. In any event, I felt that I needed to come here to commemorate (for lack of a better word) that day. So here I am.<br />
<br />
It seems so hard to believe that it has been over a year since we were given that heart-breaking news. I still think about Sadie a lot. I often wonder if I would think about her as much if we did not have Bailey. Maybe I would think about her more. With pets, at least for me, and maybe just because we have another, time really did help to heal my heart. I still miss Sadie, but I have not cried about her in a long time.<br />
<br />
For the first few week after Sadie died, I cried daily. Maybe that even lasted a month or more. But eventually life got in the way and she was pushed further back into my mind. We keep Sadie's box with her ashes, along with two pictures, her collar, a hand-drawn card and picture from my niece, and a book about dogs on a shelf above one of the couches in our living room. Sometimes when I dust that shelf (which is only about once a month), I get sad. Only recently did Bailey start sleeping on that coach occassionally. Part of me believe that Sadie's ghost has shooed her away.<br />
<br />
About a month or two ago, in the later evening, Bri said that Bailey was staring at the wall near the couch, and her tail was wagging. He got up and tried to figure out what she was looking at. He found no toys, no bugs. Nothing. When he told me the story, I right away thought it had to be Sadie. Maybe she was somehow communicating with Bailey and telling her it was okay for her to stay. If Sadie really is/has a ghost, and happens to be a ghost who can hear, then she knows how much we love and miss her and how often I say, "Bailey, Sadie would never do that." or "Sadie was so much better." <br />
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I feel a little bad about saying that to Bailey, but I am 99 percent sure she has no idea what I am saying<br />
<br />
But maybe Sadie does. And that's okay by me. :-)Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-30326626700238005252014-11-16T14:42:00.003-08:002014-11-16T14:42:54.467-08:00Puppy SadieThe hubs found this picture of Sadie in the kid's playroom/study room. I don't remember Sadie ever looking this young, but here she is, after she had been living with us for two months.<br />
<br />
Such a baby/puppy!<br />
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<br />Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-46641319899193617982014-11-14T05:56:00.003-08:002014-11-14T05:56:59.453-08:00One of my favorite Sadie memoriesHere I am 3.5 days after we said good bye to our Sadie, and I am doing okay. There are more hours between the tears now (no tears so far today, at 8:45 a.m.).<br />
<br />
The house feels kind of empty without her. Empty probably is not the best adjective, though. It is more like something is missing. Something that was such a integral part of our house for 12 years, 4 months, and 10 days.<br />
<br />
This morning I was remembering one of my favorite Sadie memories, something I wished I had captured on video, but it would have been nearly impossible to do. One evening, as the hubs and I were watching TV, Sadie was either licking herself like the cat we were convinced she partially was, or else she was scratching at the floor or couch. Although this was very annoying and disgusting, I could usually tolerate it (although I would reprimand her). The hubs, on the other hand, would typically sternly tell her to go.<br />
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That particular evening, true to form, the hubs told her to get out of the room. She left, and I felt sorry for her, as I always do when she is scolded (I was not the best pet parent, as I often let Sadie get away with a lot). Not even two minutes later, she was in the doorway (which was about 8 feet away, directly across from where I was sitting), waiting. Then, she slowly lowered her body and very deliberately practically started crawling into the room. I pointed this out to my husband, as he could not see this from where he was sitting. Once she came into his view, still slinking, we both tried not to laugh. She really thought if she lowered her body an inch or two and moved at a snail's pace, the hub would not notice she came back in.<br />
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Of course, she kept coming/crawling, and proceeded to sit on the floor next to the chair where the hubs was sitting. Neither of us did anything, because how could you shoo her away after that?Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-87615309220761228412014-11-10T16:47:00.001-08:002014-11-10T16:47:33.475-08:00Sadie, I miss you already.At just after 6 p.m. this evening, Sadie took her last breath. I was with her until the end, talking gently to her (and crying). I am so glad I was the last face she saw. But it was so very hard. <div><br></div><div>When it was over, she looked so peaceful. I rubbed her and told her how much I loved her. It was very hard to leave.</div><div><br></div><div>I have been home for about an hour and a half, and I can barely stop crying. At one point my chest felt so tight and it was almost hard to breath. I did not think it would be this hard. God bless the kid; she is taking it so much better than I. </div><div><br></div><div>The house feels empty and lonely, which I know is not the most sensical thing to say or feel when you have people in it. But that is how I feel.</div><div><br></div><div>My heart is broken into a million pieces. I know my Sadie is not suffering anymore. But I sure am without her.</div><div><br></div><div>I love you, puppy. I will miss you terribly. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRICym3xDoTmhCMlIu_5LhdpI-SLV4iosOZq1S9V9kfg9omF-QKR6oCOCUXBFEMVJO23oiGx3ppwEYxrTZJ_Ti68bpN4Kh9PKV-U98e-sj7ImLk2VRDPix2k8uh5pC9D93ZAAV-6hxeW8/s640/blogger-image-1137866530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRICym3xDoTmhCMlIu_5LhdpI-SLV4iosOZq1S9V9kfg9omF-QKR6oCOCUXBFEMVJO23oiGx3ppwEYxrTZJ_Ti68bpN4Kh9PKV-U98e-sj7ImLk2VRDPix2k8uh5pC9D93ZAAV-6hxeW8/s640/blogger-image-1137866530.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-814120353175828152014-11-09T16:48:00.001-08:002014-11-09T16:48:59.460-08:00One of the quirks I will miss about SadieSadie was (I keep typing <i>was</i>, but for the next 22.5 hours it is still <i>is</i>) IS the snuggliest dog. Most of the time she likes to lie on people, pillows, and blankets, not always in that order. <div><br></div><div>Like most dogs, she likes to move herself and things, particularly blankets, around, so she can feel just right. This has resulting in her digging at my comforter, blanket, and sheets on my bed many times. And <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><i>that</i> has resulted in her ripping a hole in at least four fitted sheets as well as several comforters. Yes, I did learn after the first few ruined pairs, but apparently I have not learned how to keep my door closed.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">Despite Sadie's penchant for most things soft, she does this one strange thing: Sometimes when she is lying under the dining room table while we are eating, she will rest her head on the chair leg rail. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">It cannot be comfortable, and I don't know why she does it.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">That's just our Sadie, I guess.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHBf68C5kylb96t6UsghUCeCH92TZ8Pjj8gZKj66w7CH047LRurXVe7H9_RyfPFFJ8b66WrrBqb3m_7sL0Ezd11LxUFBbYZsUFpanfrbZL9eDgjkbzZCDO8Wzee5y4csaCcy3my65fk8/s640/blogger-image--475208235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHBf68C5kylb96t6UsghUCeCH92TZ8Pjj8gZKj66w7CH047LRurXVe7H9_RyfPFFJ8b66WrrBqb3m_7sL0Ezd11LxUFBbYZsUFpanfrbZL9eDgjkbzZCDO8Wzee5y4csaCcy3my65fk8/s640/blogger-image--475208235.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-34366492344825219592014-11-09T16:22:00.001-08:002014-11-09T16:30:33.463-08:00More than just a dogIn 23 hours we will be saying good bye to Sadie. That is less than a day. It is not enough time. But in some ways it has been too much.<div><br></div><div>Poor Sadie got sick again yesterday. Twice. I am sure most of her is ready.</div><div><br></div><div>Last night the kid and I had a sleepover with Sadie in my bed. I doubt I got four hours of sleep; I never went more than 1.5 hours without waking up. I was so concerned she was going to get sick again, that I could not fall asleep. </div><div><br></div><div>For quite a few months the oddest sounds have been coming from Sadie's stomach as well as from her rear. Every sound which escaped her body last night jolted me. Finally around 3:30, I was thinking we were safe. By then Sadie had managed to lie sideways, and the kid was halfway off the bed. So I had to move her, which was not easy because she is quite bony, and I was afraid I would hurt her. Luckily, I moved her via dragging the comforter slightly, and we managed to get a little sleep until the next round of sounds.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTpOOTOB85tMU_ZtaxuprtP_xmSbHqtgXTLjSxt0v15-B3IZ8fSw96g30ZUVVuQpnTrFvYgb054PDBulaG265rzJAKsSOUONnZL6e9EHC_ailIYc59tJlyTbVDBrqGdWRBJjRZK7fD4c/s640/blogger-image-1665964470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHTpOOTOB85tMU_ZtaxuprtP_xmSbHqtgXTLjSxt0v15-B3IZ8fSw96g30ZUVVuQpnTrFvYgb054PDBulaG265rzJAKsSOUONnZL6e9EHC_ailIYc59tJlyTbVDBrqGdWRBJjRZK7fD4c/s640/blogger-image-1665964470.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Right now I am sitting with her on her blanket. She has eaten lots of treats today, and has been given lots of hugs, kisses, and snuggles.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7vXO3xlSdN4Uz5FUukhItBaZUXSiIT79psFdZ6aw66Ez_sL6eBD3JL78erwpHAh5pe8-x749zOp7jdGyZPR4XOnElMI7obUv4s7GabWw8PyqbkbmYqONo9Qpw44uJloQ2aHPmVZfoy8/s640/blogger-image-282159407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7vXO3xlSdN4Uz5FUukhItBaZUXSiIT79psFdZ6aw66Ez_sL6eBD3JL78erwpHAh5pe8-x749zOp7jdGyZPR4XOnElMI7obUv4s7GabWw8PyqbkbmYqONo9Qpw44uJloQ2aHPmVZfoy8/s640/blogger-image-282159407.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>She is so much more than a dog to me.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtk5uFsWFDkO0v69eXKoHasI8XgrhuxQIluP9NdUmb6dQG5vHgqmzqTEh3q0GPWQVTtCprk16Ct_Bi2kH6nOwyn_8yNCheQZVQnzLBpJn3iNYqNzKGTO6vwJTf0VEpAbALObT-EJRLDQY/s640/blogger-image-333643061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtk5uFsWFDkO0v69eXKoHasI8XgrhuxQIluP9NdUmb6dQG5vHgqmzqTEh3q0GPWQVTtCprk16Ct_Bi2kH6nOwyn_8yNCheQZVQnzLBpJn3iNYqNzKGTO6vwJTf0VEpAbALObT-EJRLDQY/s640/blogger-image-333643061.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-84901006921736766712014-11-07T13:52:00.002-08:002014-11-07T14:04:12.986-08:00Just a few more daysI cannot believe we have three nights left with our Sadie. We have scheduled her "end-of-life" appointment for Monday at 6 p.m. I am sure I will spend most of the day at work crying.<br />
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I go back and forth, wondering if we are doing the right thing. I am 95 percent sure we are. Sadie has really gone downhill these past few days. She got sick a few times on Saturday, but then was fine up until yesterday. Lately, she has been waking up early, in need of going outside. But these page few mornings, she did not even want to get up from her blanket that she sleeps on. And she has really cut back on her eating. For her weight, she is supposed to eat about two cans of dog food a day (we switched her over to canned food about 1.5 months ago, at first mixing wet and dry; about three weeks ago, she stopped eating the dry). But the past few days, she eats a can. Maybe. She has also started to sporadically reject her treats.<br />
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She has been drinking a lot of water. We bought this water purifier thing for her almost a year ago. There is a huge container on the top, from where the water works its way down, and which is the reason we bought it (she started drinking a lot about a year ago). We typically fill it up every few days. As I cleaned it out and filled it up this afternoon, I wondered if this would be my final time of doing that.<br />
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Today, Sadie got sick a few times. I was not here, but the hubs cleaned it up.<br />
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She still manages to go to the bathroom, but it has really been a struggle.<br />
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All those reasons tell me we are probably doing the right thing.<br />
<br />
But it does not make it any easier.<br />
<br />
She is 13, and has lived a long life. There is a chance, since she is mostly pit bull, that she might not have lived had we not adopted her. I tell myself this, that we did a good thing and gave her a good life.<br />
<br />
But it is still so hard to let go.<br />
<br />
Yesterday while at work, our choir director sent us a recording of "I will rise." My choir will be singing it in a few weeks. I really like the song, more so the tune. But yesterday, for the first time, I really listened to the lyrics (our choir mostly sings "oos"; we have three soloists who will do most of the singing, so I really did not pay attention to the words). But this phrase made me burst into tears: "No more sorrow, no more pain."<br />
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I keep telling myself that Sadie will not be in pain in a few days. And that sort of helps.<br />
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But I am still so sad for us.<br />
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:-(Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-62667248791655620472014-11-06T18:26:00.001-08:002014-11-06T18:26:19.640-08:00The death-ray stareI have been taking a lot of pics of Sadie over the past two months. Unfortunately, she does not look very good in the most recent pics; she has lost a lot of weight, and you can see her ribs. But I still capture what I can.<div><br></div><div>Often, when I take a picture of her in the evening, her eyes end up looking green and/or glowing, thanks to the low-light-iPhone combo. <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">But I did manage to get an awesome picture of her the other night. I have no idea how or why this was the result, but it is pretty fabulous.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-ChkrdM7K3oXH5eJbnbdsBdBbOS9Vo1kwK3si0gwLQSi1UkKz8BklbI3kvoUCNRubWnoXLM87dqjgxXeph9Cqfj4M4t-vpr1I97oBC0JxKG2v114S5VoTTh9BRbLWyxrHP8LcouseYk/s640/blogger-image--1252326168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-ChkrdM7K3oXH5eJbnbdsBdBbOS9Vo1kwK3si0gwLQSi1UkKz8BklbI3kvoUCNRubWnoXLM87dqjgxXeph9Cqfj4M4t-vpr1I97oBC0JxKG2v114S5VoTTh9BRbLWyxrHP8LcouseYk/s640/blogger-image--1252326168.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Now if only Sadie could use her death-ray gaze to kill her cancer...</span></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-82975242045372803332014-11-03T16:06:00.002-08:002014-11-07T16:28:00.161-08:00The birthday girlWe celebrated Sadie's 13th birthday on Friday. We don't know Sadie's exact birthday. In fact, we don't even really know how old she is. When we picked her out (well, w<a href="http://sadiethepitbull.blogspot.com/2014/09/sadie-pit-bull.html">hen she picked me out</a>) on 6/30/02, her "write-up" said was seven months old. But when we officially got her papers, her age was listed at nine months. I considered that she had been at the Human Society for about two weeks, added a couple of weeks, and decided Halloween was just as good of a day as any for a birthday. Because she continued to destroy things in October and November of 2012, I figured she probably was closer to seven months when we got her. <br />
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This year Sadie had (dog) ice cream on her birthday. I started buying that about a month ago, when we found out that Sadie was sick. Sadie loves her ice cream. Here she is enjoying it while I serenade her with a poor rendition of "Happy Birthday."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9sfXunbScvNmKM3dMJZB_joRMbfqLQBXEqxhzZ55-dG_lfHRHNwiFdhBZks4JY_Y1UanvIo1y0y92TxGxxQSG3j75xF96WehGGd9UAoE5CFf47Xr6YfK4K_PeVxrYhFyeeipm-qbpnKA/s1600/MVI_0441.MOV" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9sfXunbScvNmKM3dMJZB_joRMbfqLQBXEqxhzZ55-dG_lfHRHNwiFdhBZks4JY_Y1UanvIo1y0y92TxGxxQSG3j75xF96WehGGd9UAoE5CFf47Xr6YfK4K_PeVxrYhFyeeipm-qbpnKA/s1600/MVI_0441.MOV" /></a></div>
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We also like to make sure Sadie feels special in general. Here she is with a birthday pin and a birthday sash.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjBuhQaJF0dMDYTnfmK5iOEoOh8c86HSeZkS48EeyiUHj1Zii-d8j_47IdlEhhHu6xZBvL_kzCtz8CXdO2MXMZ-1t2UrYJaBIkW3pTV18Aq7wtVK_LQIpPAYnPxgFQgoof1fO6E5HiLg/s1600/SadiebirthdaySash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjBuhQaJF0dMDYTnfmK5iOEoOh8c86HSeZkS48EeyiUHj1Zii-d8j_47IdlEhhHu6xZBvL_kzCtz8CXdO2MXMZ-1t2UrYJaBIkW3pTV18Aq7wtVK_LQIpPAYnPxgFQgoof1fO6E5HiLg/s1600/SadiebirthdaySash.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
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She does not look happy, but I know it is just because she is not feeling great. The dog most of the time does not mind when we put things on her.<br />
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Sadie, we sure do love you!Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-46476875411353254732014-10-29T13:03:00.001-07:002014-10-29T13:03:15.358-07:00The end is nearSadie has not eaten much these past couple of days, and she gets skinnier and skinnier. The mass on her butt, on the other hand, is going the other way.<div><br></div><div>I keep telling myself she is not suffering, that she still wants to be with us. I just hope I am not doing this for myself.<div><br></div><div>I also hope that the next time I blog, I will be able to say Sadie is eating again and seems to be doing better, but I just don't know.</div></div><div><br></div><div>What I do know is that I plan to make Friday, Halloween, special for her, since it will be her last birthday. </div><div><br></div><div>Love you, snuggle puppy!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUWumYj1KaGnZufaRaK6xYWfo-5uGd4_dlDB2XM_e0l0jE8bNg3VTH9G6T1sq3gcW48lc6Vm8vd8vmmYd9HExACx3RzQPONENZXLizebthc6WwTxbgt-5CvQo-evFH4yUXKYgKPIOFs4/s640/blogger-image-1803081080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUWumYj1KaGnZufaRaK6xYWfo-5uGd4_dlDB2XM_e0l0jE8bNg3VTH9G6T1sq3gcW48lc6Vm8vd8vmmYd9HExACx3RzQPONENZXLizebthc6WwTxbgt-5CvQo-evFH4yUXKYgKPIOFs4/s640/blogger-image-1803081080.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-41856019764045313512014-10-08T15:59:00.002-07:002014-10-08T15:59:45.377-07:00Things are okay (I say at the risk of jinxing Sadie)Last Friday morning, my friend Amy, a.k.a. Aunt Amy to Sadie, emailed me to check on our tan and white doggie. I told her that she was doing much better. Sleeping less and eating more. My mixing soft/canned dog food with her regular hard food (we are at about a 50-50 ratio) has made Sadie quite happy. She sees either the can or the container that I put the leftovers in, and she goes crazy with excitement. Me? I think that stuff stinks!<br />
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The only thing I was concerned about on Friday, as I had told Aunt Amy, was that Sadie was crunching on something outside that morning. It could have been a chicken leg; we had had them a day or two prior and threw the bones in the woods behind our house. But I am not sure how the bones would have gotten into our yard and why an animal would not have eaten them. But I had no idea what she had gotten into. And I fretted a bit. Here Sadie was doing better, and she might end up getting some bone stuck in her intestine or something.<br />
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But I went off to work and tried not to think about it. However, as soon as I arrived home, the hubs informed me that Sadie threw up. A lot. Underneath the table. So of course I felt as if I had jinxed the poor dog.<br />
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Fortunately, Sadie has, once again, been doing okay/better. Still eating. Still running around outside on her lead. Still nearly deaf!<br />
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Here's hoping to some more good weeks like this (and here is hoping even more that I have not, once again, jinxed my poor puppy).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHZHx7C9FmOPmZCEB-50-dg0cfFMvhwplFt3-aCMmrqpJTqLto-7GiVa-FTJ6p4rbtk_54IJlGbPbkekj1dPlE67OnoqaUKQwqPDNom3HN4MHajxVNzHqBIiyErwiX7ysndVoTslqQcU/s1600/IMG_3312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHZHx7C9FmOPmZCEB-50-dg0cfFMvhwplFt3-aCMmrqpJTqLto-7GiVa-FTJ6p4rbtk_54IJlGbPbkekj1dPlE67OnoqaUKQwqPDNom3HN4MHajxVNzHqBIiyErwiX7ysndVoTslqQcU/s1600/IMG_3312.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sadie selfie!</td></tr>
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-TFFaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-1929156582289383532014-09-29T18:08:00.001-07:002014-10-08T16:00:15.319-07:00Sadie and the babyWhen JT was about one week old, the hubs went back to work and my mom left us (she had been staying with us for a week). It was my first time being alone with my baby, and I was quite nervous. Sadie did not help because she kept jumping on me, trying to sniff the newborn. It kind of freaked me out; I had heard all the negative pit bull stories, and now that I had a kid to worry about it, I had, well, something to worry about.<br />
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As JT went from a newborn to a full-fledged baby, we let Sadie check her out more regularly. Sadie seemed to get that she needed to be gentle with the baby, and although I would have never left them the two of them alone, once JT was past the newborn stage, I never really worried.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQx60WOikRMadpEpyA4atJAfKIPfuuGeLqdyu4jty_IOqCVICANxlwNZPq5hURuYRCI-WcHhZorYwJzEA8LHYzvZNlKMEwxPhG_grcPHtYKr21osqAVpiCY4PDYmblm01ZeN16-KyQgw/s1600/JTandSadieMarch20040001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaQx60WOikRMadpEpyA4atJAfKIPfuuGeLqdyu4jty_IOqCVICANxlwNZPq5hURuYRCI-WcHhZorYwJzEA8LHYzvZNlKMEwxPhG_grcPHtYKr21osqAVpiCY4PDYmblm01ZeN16-KyQgw/s1600/JTandSadieMarch20040001.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lip-smacking good!</td></tr>
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The above picture makes me laugh. If you did not know Sadie, you might think she was getting ready to eat my baby. That and that my dog is an alien or has eyes a unique shade of blue.<br />
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When JT started to eat solid food, it was almost comical to watch Sadie ever so gently try to take food from JT's hand. I put a stop to it most of the time, but sometimes it was just so funny. I would think of how when we first brought Sadie home, she literally ripped a sandwich right out of my hand. But when JT had food on her hand, Sadie was almost methodical, as she slowly tried to maneuver a small morsel while barely touching JT's hand. I wish I had video-taped that.<br />
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As JT got older, she and Sadie became buddies. There was plenty of snuggling going on between those two. The played together quite often, and Sadie was a part of many games of dress up. (Clearly, we have not tired of that, years later.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgvp1bKNuALlZlqDtkgNLTwrYqbiF_k0QDaaTg2bgRU8CzL8TiMvmnCR8OIFMD1g2JMmCQL_0uFy9hPZsMGXD7BzfllTxYmaQcfhCnJ9hWKMnE4iFB0UvRLAp91Aztza7hIFUPPJKoT0/s1600/JTandSadieMarch20040002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgvp1bKNuALlZlqDtkgNLTwrYqbiF_k0QDaaTg2bgRU8CzL8TiMvmnCR8OIFMD1g2JMmCQL_0uFy9hPZsMGXD7BzfllTxYmaQcfhCnJ9hWKMnE4iFB0UvRLAp91Aztza7hIFUPPJKoT0/s1600/JTandSadieMarch20040002.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You make a nice head rest.</td></tr>
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The above picture is how the two of them spent a lot of time over the next many, many years. Sadie the snuggle puppy.<br />
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-TFFaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-44819450249037992062014-09-23T17:06:00.001-07:002014-09-23T17:17:22.861-07:00Sweater weatherFall started last night, around 10:30. And right on time came chillier temps (well, it was chilly pretty much the entire day). Today, it was even cooler in the morning, but the temps did climb a bit. Not enough for Sadie, apparently.<br>
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Late this afternoon, Sadie was leaning on the kid, who was attempting to do her homework (on the floor, at the coffee table in the living room). J.T. noticed Sadie shivering; the kid could feel our tan and white furry family member shaking against her. So J.T. decided Sadie needed her trusty sweater. </div><div><br></div><div>Unfortunately, we have not had a lot of luck outfitting the dog. At around 45 pounds, Sadie is too big for all the cute doggie outfits little dogs can wear. In fact, I found this adorable dress two years ago, but Sadie was just a little too chesty to pull it off; she was in the biggest size PetSmart had.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9H7UrF_TT3H_fcqMiPDE811tdYphJtQlE6P3ajuPJBSRFv_y1sOIlP2TZUUNxnsh3AMOjP6c2BTytdw-jEFuubhyGh_g6q1SQ-s59KRuQ9SMtTL0-YQArzsL1VyLGj15SjJrSAfLNXw/s1600/sadiedress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9H7UrF_TT3H_fcqMiPDE811tdYphJtQlE6P3ajuPJBSRFv_y1sOIlP2TZUUNxnsh3AMOjP6c2BTytdw-jEFuubhyGh_g6q1SQ-s59KRuQ9SMtTL0-YQArzsL1VyLGj15SjJrSAfLNXw/s1600/sadiedress.jpg" height="240" width="320"></a></div>
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The only thing that remotely fits her, but is not the least bit cute or feminine, is this sweater. Unfortunately, the sweater rides up and the buttons sometimes become undone, but it does the trick for the <i>most</i> part and keeps our "puppy" a little warmer than she would be au natural.<br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fdQuJ9RKuM8XG7ZqEfEoMm_zU9JWYsCa28NOATDymeeO2NqiLcN92Ttj55zEMqAVxNjnW3DL73usxQDcNIfs_e3EtCm96_Qlpq2BG_DtccnsQlLjIRwAaZo4P8Xe3TMVc3wV6ax6c_0/s640/blogger-image-196209826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3fdQuJ9RKuM8XG7ZqEfEoMm_zU9JWYsCa28NOATDymeeO2NqiLcN92Ttj55zEMqAVxNjnW3DL73usxQDcNIfs_e3EtCm96_Qlpq2BG_DtccnsQlLjIRwAaZo4P8Xe3TMVc3wV6ax6c_0/s640/blogger-image-196209826.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Hope you stay nice and toasty, Sadie!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">-TF</div>
Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-34479598906979796222014-09-21T19:00:00.001-07:002014-09-21T19:00:22.835-07:00Sleepy puppySadie will always be a puppy to me. I often address her as "puppy" or I will say, "Come here, puppy." And some days she still acts like a puppy, full of energy, even if only for brief periods.<div><br></div><div>But I know she is neither young nor a puppy (nor healthy, for that matter). </div><div><br></div><div>Today she seemed (and looks, to me, anyway) tired. I am hopeful it is just because she spent about an hour on the back patio, not leashed, but barricaded in, with a little room to wander. She so rarely gets to roam freely (not that the cement slab in the back is a huge area). And perhaps the pacing and checking things out wore her out. In any event, in the early evening, she managed to drag the comforter we put on the floor for her several feet across the living room, and she promptly fell asleep. </div><div><br></div><div>I took this picture, just after I crouched next to her sleeping and woke her up. After she sleepily opened her eyes and slightly raised her head, I patted the comforter and said, "Put your cappy down, puppy." </div><div><br></div><div>And she did. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNb_LKzCS8D3PpIwjJSVWfhgBo8e0Jw6WeGqik7gYB3pZ3Xu3ykvFAyWUSXAIOKQPozDdyZxCBcZ6wTpv5CtzoW3UGT5Jaf0f9xSdy1fKIH5trtUjcEhQTiGo-Z65jrJ8g7Q5d9eo2wc/s640/blogger-image--1656920840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNb_LKzCS8D3PpIwjJSVWfhgBo8e0Jw6WeGqik7gYB3pZ3Xu3ykvFAyWUSXAIOKQPozDdyZxCBcZ6wTpv5CtzoW3UGT5Jaf0f9xSdy1fKIH5trtUjcEhQTiGo-Z65jrJ8g7Q5d9eo2wc/s640/blogger-image--1656920840.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>-TF</div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-54077790651871416922014-09-20T07:40:00.001-07:002014-09-20T07:49:50.129-07:00Sadie in the sun<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMUIxld_BpBYJnkCBTO6KJjq3xnUA7NJjVGapjZI8CS-Dd-vIMVdHwjCARkHFZH-8gdxK22kijOx2D51krFL9H8DNGDRVU40jpNivhHqErEkNXezntx27wPwpQLV36jxjEaWYmSGqfh8/s640/blogger-image-1781671232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMUIxld_BpBYJnkCBTO6KJjq3xnUA7NJjVGapjZI8CS-Dd-vIMVdHwjCARkHFZH-8gdxK22kijOx2D51krFL9H8DNGDRVU40jpNivhHqErEkNXezntx27wPwpQLV36jxjEaWYmSGqfh8/s640/blogger-image-1781671232.jpg"></a></div>Whenever the sun shines through our large living room window, you can always count on Sadie to be there. She clearly relishes the brightness and the heat, particularly on chilly days. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi617bZvyKAbB-EP6EfmPgy0cIcSEcV5cXBfS3K5W8yY4rJNtbhoR59Hyb9s56rI4Ju-ub4lCDid3pn_l2LrfhHa4W3l_Gge7_a4a1kBHGCm40strYa6s2HE9N1hAlSyKxkAIoZxUvf5_c/s640/blogger-image-1146293773.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi617bZvyKAbB-EP6EfmPgy0cIcSEcV5cXBfS3K5W8yY4rJNtbhoR59Hyb9s56rI4Ju-ub4lCDid3pn_l2LrfhHa4W3l_Gge7_a4a1kBHGCm40strYa6s2HE9N1hAlSyKxkAIoZxUvf5_c/s640/blogger-image-1146293773.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>When the sun shifts positions, Sadie will move herself, desperate to get that last sliver of sun. We find that particularly amusing. </div></div><div><br></div><div>When the weather gets colder, you can typically find Sadie backed up against the heat register. We are surprised she does not end up with indentations. </div><div><br></div><div>Here's hoping we get to enjoy a few more months of Sadie and her heat- and sun-seeking body!</div><div><br></div><div>-TF</div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-52414462553811306462014-09-18T16:54:00.001-07:002014-09-18T17:13:38.479-07:00I mustache you to read this.Today when I came home, something seemed different about Sadie. It is so hard to say this (sob, sob). Sadie is all grown up (sniffle, cry). She has facial hair. <div><br></div><div>She has facial hair?! What?! Is she a secret undercover agent for B.P.I.M.? Is she a budder (misspelled on purpose), panda in mustaches? They are so epic! (My backstory). Let's just say they are a hybrid between a panda and a budder mustache.</div><div><br></div><div>And now let's get back to Sadie, unless you want to know more about budder panda in mustaches/B.P.I.M. :-)</div><div><br></div><div>I am glad that Sadie is grown up and all but facial hair is too much. Mustaches are my thing! </div><div><br></div><div>Sadie, don't grow so fast. Even though I'm 17,851 years old. What?! Nothing. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVNvMxx0pSNNROTLLaFp-z5p0AgCK6IKL09JF_9ISpBQL_wg5uUnqVLOZKeM2sJ_9XfXWCNx89BSbt8S1HYd32vJSswbeoMyylAVgJNTuBhD1vFUgiJYiNjwZzHdfsWh3wT1qcW7-WOQ/s640/blogger-image-1867981632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVNvMxx0pSNNROTLLaFp-z5p0AgCK6IKL09JF_9ISpBQL_wg5uUnqVLOZKeM2sJ_9XfXWCNx89BSbt8S1HYd32vJSswbeoMyylAVgJNTuBhD1vFUgiJYiNjwZzHdfsWh3wT1qcW7-WOQ/s640/blogger-image-1867981632.jpg"></a></div>******</div><div>*J.T.*</div><div>******</div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-7110353223876532972014-09-16T17:56:00.000-07:002014-09-16T18:16:04.746-07:00When Sadie was famousMy mom and I were trying to think of something to write about Sadie. I told her to look for the picture of Sadie joining one of our tea parties when I was a little girl. She could not find that on the computer. Then she suggested we do a post about Sadie when we were both in a catalog. I did <i>not </i>remember that. My mom said that when she was at her last job years ago, her company worked on the Leed's catalog (they sell things that you can put your company's name on). She showed me a picture of me and a picture of me and Sadie from one of their catalogs.<br />
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Here it is, page 256 of Leed's 2009 Catalog.<br />
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Do you want Sadie's autograph?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbikXY3fAIBFIQSC4fqkJeTkOe6Fdzd4EumcfMFHwFw4auv0hO1yNIWYZCc2MChuOaN772zTNwKfcSC_W9jJnV6X4t06ClD6ADXvY9R4LVzTCtBH64QJT65kaYXQ0ij2TPAOCyM53WEm8/s1600/Copy+of+sadie+and+leeds0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbikXY3fAIBFIQSC4fqkJeTkOe6Fdzd4EumcfMFHwFw4auv0hO1yNIWYZCc2MChuOaN772zTNwKfcSC_W9jJnV6X4t06ClD6ADXvY9R4LVzTCtBH64QJT65kaYXQ0ij2TPAOCyM53WEm8/s1600/Copy+of+sadie+and+leeds0002.jpg" height="320" width="223" /></a></div>
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* * * * <br />
*-J.T. *<br />
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[Editor's note: After I typed this post (J.T. usually does her own typing), the kid asked where was the picture of just her from the catalog. I had to remind her that the blog is Sadie the pit bull, not J.T. the kid. However, I was surprised when I went to Leed's website and did a search on "photo," J.T.'s picture from a princess party many years ago was still there, item 1550-02. :-) ]Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-51260132908925399442014-09-15T14:12:00.001-07:002014-09-15T14:13:02.682-07:00Sadie's 12th birthdayWhen we adopted Sadie from the Human Society, one paper said she was 7 months old and another paper said she was 9 months old. We picked her out (well, she picked me out) on the last day of June, and she had been at the shelter for about a week. <div><br></div><div>When the kid (who, to review, was not born when we got Sadie) became a preschooler, she thought we should celebrate Sadie's birthday. I am pretty sure J.T. picked Halloween, so that is when we celebrate it. </div><div><br></div><div>Here is Sadie on her 12th birthday last year, sporting a birthday sash and a sweater. </div><div><br></div><div>- TF</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6LJJt-Y4U6ElrttxRls-gYn8zaRY5UzTsWC9_BOszadhVYiVvxTh7sQocbpGnGCdlcrtktMj-RmES1n7Ua4GDAyszhzv-64tlwcSEMPWiDV4kgVFseqzSCIEfBTicLz_lsfJf4mkM08/s640/blogger-image--1821520157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6LJJt-Y4U6ElrttxRls-gYn8zaRY5UzTsWC9_BOszadhVYiVvxTh7sQocbpGnGCdlcrtktMj-RmES1n7Ua4GDAyszhzv-64tlwcSEMPWiDV4kgVFseqzSCIEfBTicLz_lsfJf4mkM08/s640/blogger-image--1821520157.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-66112228482833230352014-09-14T16:42:00.000-07:002014-09-14T16:49:09.859-07:00Sadie's fashion shoot<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We decided today, after we were riding our bikes, to go spend time with Sadie. My mom had a brilliant idea: to have <i><b><span style="font-size: small;">Sadie's Fabulous Fashion Show</span></b></i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Take 1, of <i><b>Sadie's Fabulous Fashion Show</b></i>, Star/actor: Sadie the Fashionista, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Action!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadie decided for her first look to go on a safari adventure.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadie wanted to do a disguise. Will anybody know she's a dog?</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadie the old lady</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Brr, it's cold outside, and Sadie is ready for Christmas caroling with her old pals.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Bling, bling! Sadie's so bright; don't forget your sunglasses.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's a tiring day at the office, so Sadie's always close to her bed</span></span>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sadie always dresses nicely for the boss; he may give her treats as a raise!</span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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*-J.T. *<br />
* * * *Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-83657946953071103002014-09-14T05:33:00.001-07:002014-09-14T05:35:14.328-07:00How Sadie schemed her way into bedThe first night I brought Sadie home, she was not feeling well, because of her surgery (spaying). She walked around the house and hung out with me and the hubs for a bit, but then she retreated to her crate. When I went to bed, she was still there, but within a short time of my going to bed, the hub brought her upstairs, and she immediately jumped on the bed. <div><br></div><div>We had decided we wanted to keep her off the beds, but I was so happy to see she had perked up. I also knew it might be challenging since she had slept in a bed in her previous home. In any event, the hubs took her back downstairs, and she slept in her crate.</div><div><br></div><div>I don't remember if that lasted one or two nights, but I do recall deciding that since we both worked FT and were gone for a big part of the day (other than the hubs came home on his lunch hour to take her out), we should let her sleep in our room. On the floor. In a pet bed.</div><div><br></div><div>The first night, she woke me up around 3 a.m.; she was standing next to the bed whining. I recall the hubs making a joke about 3 a.m. feedings. But I took her out, and she went back to her bed, and that was that. She did, however, jump into bed early that morning, but we were okay with that. So much for keeping her off the bed.</div><div><br></div><div>A similar thing happened the next night and morning, though she jumped into bed a little earlier. Within a few days, she starting quietly jumping into bed a little earlier, and we were too tired to do anything about.</div><div><br></div><div>By the end of the week, she managed to jump into bed around midnight, which was only about an hour after the hubs had gone to bed. Within a day or two, all three of us went to bed at the same time. In the bed. And within another week or so, she slept right between us.</div><div><br></div><div>Eventually Sadie stopped sleeping with us (having a baby can do that), but I will never forget how she slowly but surely wormed her way into our bed. :-)</div><div><br></div><div>- TF</div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-52252281022830838502014-09-13T11:10:00.002-07:002014-09-14T16:49:15.880-07:00The Master of Uno: Sadie<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day after I was done with my homework, my mom asked if I wanted to play a card game. She suggested Uno, and I said yes. My mom asked if we should deal Sadie in. I said yes, and I went upstairs to get my IPod to take some pictures. It was so funny; my mom kept calling Sadie over to pick her card. My mom would pick the card that Sadie licked or sniffed. Sometimes she wouldn't call Sadie over and I would say, "Why didn't you show Sadie her cards?" She would either say, "There's only one card she can play." Or she wouldn't come over so my mom would play for her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another reason Sadie wouldn't come over is because recently this spring Sadie became deaf. Now this is good because she won't bark at cars, people, cats, dogs, and other things. The bad thing is she doesn't know what's around her; so sometimes she'll get scared if my dad is coming around the corner of the house or she cant hear us if we're calling her, so she could run away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We kept playing Uno and guess who won... Sadie! I came in second and my mom in third. I still can't believe a dog beat us!</span><br />
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Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-72729591458852127752014-09-13T05:35:00.001-07:002014-09-13T05:43:43.690-07:00Sadie and her bed nestsQuite a few years ago, Sadie started moving the bedding when she jumped on the bed. It started rather innocently; like most dogs, she had to move around the bed and walk in circles before she found that spot. But sometimes she just could not get comfortable unless she dismantled the entire ensemble. Often I would find her half buried under some blankets, even though I had already made the bed.<div><br></div><div>Unfortunately, at some point, she started digging, which was more unfortunate when she had managed to get under the comforter and blanket. This resulted in rips and tears in the fitted sheets. We replaced three or four sets of sheets over the course of a few years; if I could have consistently remembered to keep the bedroom door closed after I had left, we could have probably stopped after the first one.</div><div><br></div><div>Recently one evening, I went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Because I would be back in my room in about 5 minutes and Sadie was lying on my bed, half asleep, quite contentedly, I figured I could leave her there without fear of real harm. I took her pic, just to see her exact position.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTqc9hx74n78gA90bWmI-gmXZmUh6YCwuAlNz7Wbsn_7un6mg1QsBSxF0VePU8Z81A8cw80rjXfbo-VAkHencEZkJ8xNOqJx9EgAdmMwKdDXhWqvArpGwe449JxP68IkHCBU_yLeO77U/s640/blogger-image--1097719275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTqc9hx74n78gA90bWmI-gmXZmUh6YCwuAlNz7Wbsn_7un6mg1QsBSxF0VePU8Z81A8cw80rjXfbo-VAkHencEZkJ8xNOqJx9EgAdmMwKdDXhWqvArpGwe449JxP68IkHCBU_yLeO77U/s640/blogger-image--1097719275.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>When I returned a mere 5 minutes later, this is what I found.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZmLmmZn2tJAT6mf7PXKC8wZbWK4FcJwIHOYuhZeFrp6H0eW1nhlY59zbmk6vr-qkFYtdulCjJSfMlaGTkbwRact3gncyg_cVSmh7xD18QEtPxS_6tXitqkpGz-ucOoupw9GvdeRm2-Y/s640/blogger-image--1048384937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZmLmmZn2tJAT6mf7PXKC8wZbWK4FcJwIHOYuhZeFrp6H0eW1nhlY59zbmk6vr-qkFYtdulCjJSfMlaGTkbwRact3gncyg_cVSmh7xD18QEtPxS_6tXitqkpGz-ucOoupw9GvdeRm2-Y/s640/blogger-image--1048384937.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>-TF</div>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-86773168404145041782014-09-12T17:16:00.002-07:002014-09-13T13:47:37.419-07:00My thoughts about SadieGrowing up, we did not have dogs, even though I wanted one. I guess I was not willing to take care of a pet; my dad made it abundantly clear that the first time the dog made a mess and we did not clean it up, the dog would be gone. I was not willing to take that chance.<br>
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When I was in college, my aunt got us our toy poodle Buster (my parents had divorced). I was at home only in the summers and a few weekends during the school year, so my time with him was limited. But I lived at home for two years after college, and that is when Buster and I became close. After we had a gas leak, I made sure Bus slept with me every night. In fact, the day I moved to Pittsburgh, that little 7.5 pound dog jumped into the trunk of my car; he obviously knew I was leaving, and I guess wanted to go with me.<br>
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Until the hub and I bought our first (and current) house, there was no way we could have a dog. But a few months after living in our new digs, we decided to take the plunge. We knew we wanted to adopt a shelter dog, to try to save a dog's life. The day we picked out Sadie, there (fortunately) were not many dogs there (maybe 20?). I thought quite a few were cute, but Sadie (then named Shortie) was stalking me, even though I did not realize it right away.<br>
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Sadie picked me out, and once I read that she was housebroken, I knew she was the dog for us, two FT-working pet parents. My friend Amy went with me the next day to pick her up, and Sadie has been with us ever since, for over 12 years. I did not know much about pit bulls at the time (we are not sure what Sadie is mixed with, though I don't necessarily think it is a shar pei as the vet thinks). But I have since learned they are (or can be, anyway) extremely affectionate and loving. <br>
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I just hope we can make the most of our time with Sadie during her short time left.<br>
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- TF <br>
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<br>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7810885024629165251.post-84522208379679418302014-09-12T16:28:00.000-07:002014-09-13T07:58:18.375-07:00Sadie the pit bull<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadie is a medium, tan and white dog who is about 13 years old. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My parents adopted Sadie when she was between 7 and 9 months. It all started when they were at the Humane Society and were looking at some dogs. My mom was walking by a dog and looked over and thought this dog was kind of cute. She moved on</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to the next group of dogs and liked one of them. She went to the third group of dogs and finally she realized that it was the same dog following her! My mom called my dad over to come look at the dog. His first reaction was not: Wow! I love this dog. Let's get her right away! She's perfect for us. It was more like: That dog is in charge! She kinda looks like a bully. What if she hurts our guests, or more importantly us!?!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You may be wondering why my dad's reaction wasn't or our kid(s); well, that's because my parents made an agreement that if they get a dog, there will be no kids. Or if they have a kid, there will be no dog or any pets. Well, fortunately they changed their minds, and my dad was wrong! Yes he was W-R-O-N-G! And that's a good thing because if he wasn't, well, I guess then our dog wouldn't have a new home and I wouldn't be here! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">My parents "played" with her and left. Now I know what you're thinking: What?! You left her? That perfect, well-behaved dog? Actually no. Don't worry my parents came back the next day to get her because she had to be spayed. Sadie came home that day. The most wonderful day of her life: 7-1-02 July 1, 2002 (well technically they picked her out on 6-30-02, June 30, 2002.). </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXctRM82kzznkO3l6M6rpJaK434O-q7zKVAU8QsALya6l_CEeUe9-Vi4jHI5hyXrxclAoCNakxi9MXS_1g8aqOuJc_cOINl8eaJhnvKZ0d4ZLuTHitOXbHiUl7SR4-7kVOhYwhyphenhyphenGsVXs/s1600/Sadie+Puppy+September+20020001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXctRM82kzznkO3l6M6rpJaK434O-q7zKVAU8QsALya6l_CEeUe9-Vi4jHI5hyXrxclAoCNakxi9MXS_1g8aqOuJc_cOINl8eaJhnvKZ0d4ZLuTHitOXbHiUl7SR4-7kVOhYwhyphenhyphenGsVXs/s1600/Sadie+Puppy+September+20020001.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sadie living happily with her new family for two months.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">- J.T. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">(Editor's note: The hub insists he did not say he was afraid of Sadie being a bully. I also did not remember it that way. The kid, however, says she just wanted to put that; it made for better reading, so she thought!) </span>Faciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12165861407055831754noreply@blogger.com0