The Pub Discussion Board

When I found out many years ago that a friend of mine had poodle pups and that my dad wanted one, I knew it was trouble. Make that Trouble, with a capital "t". Trey was our first. Perhaps he'll be our last. He's now about 15 or so. Short-legged, due to inbreeding, the dog is built on muscle, knows his toys by name, and has an obsession for lights. The cream colored boy started a revolution of poodles.
  Kira was our second. My mother wanted a red poodle. A girl. I located an ad in the paper and went to buy her with my own money. She was definitely red. She always had that air of being a little ditzy, so we said she really was speaking French, so she didn't understand us (even though poodles are really German in origin). She was like a sister to me. When I got the call that she had gotten out and killed in the night, I was beyond devastated. I was in shock and my heart was crushed. But we move on, don't we?
  Terra was next, I believe. She's a Cali girl, from a famous breeder. If you've ever seen the Target commercials with colored poodles in it, those are her original pack mates. She was flown in and even visited me while at work when she came in. I remember her running through the grass near our parking lot. She was a lovely shade of red, lean, and happy. As she grew, had pups, and became our alpha bitch, she grew FAT. She's our whale of the bunch. When she looks at you, she'll squint at you and it looks as if she's smiling at you. Always a sweetheart.
  Frodo followed shortly after. He was our first Phantom poodle. People seem to think that Phantoms aren't full bred poodles or are different. They're different, all right, but only in color. He was a puff ball, black and silver. He pranced daintily as he walked. Thin boned, precise, always dainty. I suppose he's a poster boy for poodles when you think of them. Yeah, he's a sissy, but he was the alpha of our pack. And mom's little favorite...for now.
  We decided to breed Terra and Frodo and from them, we ended up with Dobbie and Growler. I don't know who was born first, but Dobbie is a red and black Phantom. We had to keep him once we realized what he was. Red and blacks are more and more common now, but once, they were the prized Phantom colors to get a hold of. Growler was one we couldn't figure out for the longest time. He ended up being a silver sable. Dobbie became a monster when I taught him that if he shakes, we rub his belly. He'll sit on the bed, bark at my father until he turns around, then demand belly rubbins. Growler was named so because...well...that's how he talked. He growled. Not in a menacing way, but he was ticklish and he'd growl about it. He'd also smile when someone came home. Both boys ended up being beefy and stocky. Growler more so as he was about 29 lbs. at last count. Daddy's boys to the end. They'd follow him anywhere and be polite about it.
  Pete came next. Pete is actually related to another of our pack, Ruby, but we'll get to her later. Pete and his brother, "Repeat" were given to us by a fellow breeder. We decided to give/sell them and a friend of ours took them both. Despite best efforts, they couldn't keep them, so back they came, to us. We eventually found someone to take Repeat and we ended up with Pete. Sneaky Pete. He'll crawl up behind you when you're not looking and steal your food. He loves - LOVES - cheese and will come running as soon as you start crinkling the cheese paper. He does his "dance, dance", begging for whatever you have. Being our second cream colored poodle, he had the softest fur of them. Like a lamb.
  I do believe Ruby came into our lives at this point. Ruby was given to us by the breeder who gave us Pete and Repeat. Ruby is actually Pete's mother. True to her name, she's red. When she came in, she was not socialized, dirty, and frightened. The first thing dad did was give her a bath. She eventually came around, and in no time, we had our crazy Ruby. Goofball, sweetheart, attention whore. Take your pick. She's all of these things and more. She's good for a laugh when she runs around the house and when we grab her tail without her looking, she squeaks. But all she ever just wants is attention.
  Rue and Bitte were the result of another Frodo/Terra breeding. Rue is a skinny, long-legged, lithe girl who was another that we couldn't figure out, color-wise. So far, she's a sable, but more of a redish sable. Frodo's favorite spots were claimed by this once shy girl as she became Mom's favorite and a definite running for alpha bitch. When she bares her teeth, her gums are so black that it's a very menacing look. She's sweet though and is obsessed with squeakers. Especially squeaker balls. She will eat through them in a manner of minutes. But she loves to run full out, fetching them when they're thrown.
  Bitte is another black and white Phantom. He was attacked by one of the other dogs we had when younger. We didn't know if he would make it. He wouldn't eat while at the vet's until they hand fed him. He wouldn't walk, either...until we got him home. I carried that silly dog around in a shoulder carrier for a short time. He recovered wonderfully, and the day my mother said we were selling him, I was emphatic that he was mine and would be. She would NOT sell him. So Bitte, who was bit, who retained a bit of luck, became My Own Lil' Bitte Luck (his registered CKC name, even though he has a multitude of nicknames, such as Pup Tart).
  Benny is our last. Ben Bear. Again, true to his name, he's a big teddy bear. He will snuggle against you, has his daddy's soft, soft fur (yes, a product of Pete and Rue), and is climbing the ranks to alpha male. A red male, he started out vibrant red. He's slowly tanning out, though. It doesn't matter. He's still a sweetheart of a dog. He and Rue will chase each other, play fetch, and generally cause chaos with Ruby. It's never a dull day in the house when they decide to start a game of anything. He's going to be very tall and fill out well, I think.
  Mind you, this poodle pack started when I was about 13 or so. I'm now 29. Of all the poodles, I would have thought Trey, who is deaf, partially blind, and psychotic, would have been the next one to go. I can not believe, for a moment, that he has outlived our Growler.
  He started showing signs of going downhill just a few days ago. Without the details, we took him in and cancer was found. Five years old and gone. I'm sad. Oh, so sad. I imagine what it's like for my father. Growler was "his boy;" will always be "his boy."
  It's hard. Anyone who has ever owned a pet or loved an animal probably knows the pain. When you get close to an animal and they're just gone, quickly, without any real warning, it shocks you to your core. When the shock fades, all that is left is tears and the comfort of loved ones, both human and non.
  People will probably say that he's crossed a rainbow bridge. I don't like that saying. I never have. I don't know why. It's not that I don't believe he's gone on, but I just don't like the saying. I believe that there was a mix up with Kira's death. Instead of going to doggie heaven, she went to squirrel heaven. She continues to chase them (without catching them, of course) and is happy. With Growler, I don't know. Perhaps he is in a place where he can always have face scritchin's. Where he always has hot dogs available. Where he has many dogs to play with and humans to love on him. Perhaps waiting with my grandmother. Who knows? One thing I do know, though. We'll see him again and he was a good, good boy.