So today I'd thought I'd share with you how Oreo and Tigress came to be a part of my family. First I must tell a very sad and disturbing story to introduce the happier stories. So, if you are squeamish and do not like to read sad stories of the mistreatment of animals please do skip the next paragraph.
Before Oreo and Tigress I had a black pug named Denzel. He was one of the sweetest dogs that ever lived on this planet. He was the first dog that I could call just mine. Denzel was given to me by my grandmother who died shortly after. Denzel basically became my child. I loved him so much and it ripped my heart out to leave him with my mom while I moved into dorms in Lewiston. Just after I moved my mom had new neighbors move into the house next door to hers. These neighbors had a total of 7 dogs, two small yorkies, two medium white scotties, one big hunting dog of some sort, and two huge labradoodles (labrador/poodle). These dogs were not the cute cuddly ones that we would want to reach through the fence to pet. They were vicious and bared their ugly pointy teeth at anyone coming into our driveway. A fence made of four-inch squared chicken wire along with a barb wire fence was what separated my mom's property from their's. The morning before Easter my freshmen year I got a frantic call from my mom. Rarely does she call me at 6:30 in the morning and never does she call me screaming and crying to the point that one of every five words is distinguishable at 6:30 in the morning. She calmed down just enough to break the most heart-wrenching news I had ever received in my life. Denzel had been torn through one of those four-inch squares while outside for his morning potty break by the two heartless labradoodles and used as a chew toy. The neighbor stood by and watched as my mom did the only she could. She pulled out her 270 rifle and shot one dog dead to the ground. Denzel's limp body fell from the mouth of the beast onto the cold, snow-covered ground, just out of my traumatized mother's reach. The neighbor refused to let my mom on his property. The cops showed up an hour later (just before I got there; normal driving would take an 1 1/2) and were able to rescue Denzel. He was rushed to the nearest vet who immediately started working on warming him up. No surgery or painkillers could be used on Denzel's horrendous wounds until his body temperature rose. My family and I could do nothing but go home and wait for further news. At 10:30 the phone lit up and let out an ominous ring. I slowly reached for the phone and answered hopefully. The old, experienced vet's voice started to say "I'm sorry to report..." at which point I froze. I knew what was coming next. I didn't need to hear it but I listened anyway. My world starting closing in. I hung up the phone with a clumsy hand and stumbled towards the stairs, towards my mom. My sister's scream seemed distant. The floor rose up to meet me as my knees crumbled beneath me. I collapsed and my body shook uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face. Losing Denzel was like losing a child. I still miss him. I still cry over him. In fact, as I write this I'm fighting tears...unsuccessfully.
My husband, who at the time was only my fiance, knew how much I was hurting. He also knew that people deal with loss differently. A month or so after Denzel's death he cautiously approached me with the news that he knew of some pug puppies being sold by a breeder in Kamiah. If I was ready, he was willing to help pay for a new puppy. That meant the world to me and I immediately probed him for more information. That night we drove to Kamiah to look at these puppies. There were three female fawn puppies and one male brindle puppy. Before we arrived I told myself I would not be getting the male. He reminded me so much of Denzel as a puppy that I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it. The moment the puppies were let loose the male came straight to me and never left my side. The females came back and forth, but were more interested in playing with each and their parents than me. It seemed that fate stepped in and told me what I really wanted. I couldn't leave without that cute, round, bug-eyed little male. We of course, named this loving little creature Oreo. He is now just over a year old and the center of attention in our household.
I always thought, especially because we are only renting places at the moment, that Michael and I would be sticking to one pet, more specifically one dog, at a time. That was until we visited my in-laws who had a brand new litter of kittens. Michael's five year old sister dragged me in to see the kittens that looked like drowned-rats. Of course that doesn't mean I didn't pick one up and immediately become attached to it. It was apparent that it was the runt of the litter. Every time we visited I went back and visited this runt. The more I did, the more it grew on me. Eventually the time came for the kittens to find new homes. Michael and his family continually pressed me to take this kitty that I had become so stupidly attached to. The pressure got to me and I finally caved like a trailer house roof in the winter. Before bringing it home Michael and I went out and got it a kitty litter box, kitty litter, and toys. It has since become known as spoiled little Tigress. She has several toys and receives a ton of attention.
Tigress and Oreo are like siblings. They fight, make-up, play, and comfort each other. They are also like my kids. I will protect them, love them, and teach them right from wrong (as best you can do with animals). They are my world and forever will be.
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