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Washington, D.C., circa 1926. "Dog cemetery." Intimations of canine mortality. National Photo Company Collection glass negative. View full size.
This photo is certainly earlier than 1926. The Sunday Star ran an almost identical photo of the same party on Nov. 7, 1920.
As an owner of a French Bulldog, it is great seeing historic photos of the breed.
Great tale by Mr Mel about the black labs. We had one when I was a kid back in the sixties, named Nickel, and since he was the only dog our family ever had, he occupies a special place in my memories. As an indication of how far away we were back then from our current poop 'n' scoop practices, my dad trained Nickel to do his business anywhere but our front or back lawns. Didn't matter if it was the neighbor's lawn or the boulevard -- we never picked it up.
Two items of note for me in this photo: the cigar in the gloved hand of the chauffeur, and the tree trunks at the perimeter of the cemetery, cut to uniform height and stripped of bark.
Just back after two weeks of no internet. I didn't miss a damn thing except for this site. Belated holiday greetings to all my Shorpy brothers and sisters, with a special nod to Dave and tterrace.
Stop chewing up your shoes or else. But couldn't you at least be a little more subtle about it?
I firmly agree with the advice to have another dog as soon as you can. I suffered needlessly through nearly three months of crippling depression trying to obey family advice to wait before adopting before I clicked on a link about an overcrowded shelter on a nearby Indian reservation and broke( best loss of willpower I ever had). I don't know that it has to be the same breed because they will surprise you ( and my "Aussie shepherd mix" adopted based on a not-so-good pic from the shelter that made her resemble my beloved Border Collie cross Asta, proved to be a Catahoula, which is a whole other ball game, but also a truly wonderful experience ), but people do have particular breeds or breed characteristics they get along with best( I sometimes feel I must be the only person whom most Labradors habitually dislike, but dogs that straddle the line between genius and insanity I'm good with).
Ex WW1 German gloves or NYC Motorcycle Police issue?
Two of my cats, Buster and Punkin, lived with me from the time they were born, in the bushes outside my house, until they died eighteen years later.
Buster went first, and Punkin pined away, stopped eating and died twelve days after him. I buried the brothers together underneath the little lemon tree in my front yard.
Up 'til then, I'd only gotten two or three scrawny lemons per year. Ever since, I've had a huge crop of robust lemons. I don't think two decomposing cats made that big a difference. I think the difference is love.
Over a 40 year period we had 3 different Black Labs. We loved them all very much. When we moved from the suburbs back to the city, we had just lost our first dog but had one of the puppies that she delivered about 2 years before. The Pup adjusted to the city and lived another 10 years. My wife and I said that was enough and decided not to adopt another. There's an old joke about the best time in life. That's when the kids leave home and the dog dies. This was our situation. About a year later my youngest daughter said that her job was a dead end and she needed to go back to school for her MBA. I said fine but the scholarship terms were that she move back home. She did and we jumped at the chance to get another Labrador Retriever. Now fast forward 12 years and that one passes. My middle daughter asks if we're getting another one and we said no. She asked why and I honestly answered I didn't want a situation where the dog outlives us. She calmly replied "don't worry I'll take it". Oh yeah, that helped.
I've had dogs all my life and Susan the border collie lived to be 19 years and 10 months.
I am happy to report that I took in a momcat off the street and her litter of four three years ago. Two kittens were adopted while Mom and her two kids are still here as house cats after two grand in vet bills.
Any day now I'm thinking the cats will start behaving like good dogs. Will I have to wait long?
I like rhhardin's advice not to bury your heart with a beloved furry family member. Our pets would not want us to be grief stricken! My best pal, for the past 13 years, has been a great big fluff ball of a tabby cat. He is starting to have some health problems, and I have been dreading losing him. The other night, I went to someone's home who had a three month old kitten who looked just like my cat at that age. Playing with the kitten was reassuring that, whenever my big feline friend goes to Kitty Heaven, I'll be able to find another fur-baby to love!
Beauty Baden doesn't seem to be buried very deep. Or is that a big pile of dirt to prevent other animals from digging her up?
[Four feet under. -Dave]
When I was a mere seven years old and riding the bus to my very first day camp session, I burst out crying when I looked out the window and saw a small concrete marker with the inscription "Bound." I was sure that it was the gravestone of a beloved dog named Bound. Hey, at age seven, I was scarcely acquainted with the land surveying industry.
The unsatisfactory thing about dogs is that they don't live as long as people, so you'll go through a bunch of them.
The experts' rule is another dog, same breed, as soon as possible.
Or you could get one of those Galapagos tortoises, and someday it'll mourn (in tortoise fashion) your great-grandchildren's deaths.
Looks like the little tyke has lost two colleagues or predecessors, reason enough to ponder life's transitory nature.
The unsatisfactory thing about dogs is that they don't live as long as people, so you'll go through a bunch of them.
The experts' rule is another dog, same breed, as soon as possible.
Pick up where you left off.
Don't bury your heart with the dog.
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