She is our tiny spitfire. She was the smallest in the litter, and the only one with her colorings. She looks just like her mama did. She turned 8 years old in April, and has always been a part of our home. She is calm, loving, and welcoming to everyone. She has a slight addiction to leather, so jacket and shoe wearers beware! Harley is also our nursemaid - whomever is sick in the house is her baby. She does not leave their side until they are well.
This handsome boy is Toby.
He is the big brother and littermate to Harley. I know, I know, they look nothing alike. But, I swear, they came out of the same mama. We can only assume that Toby looks like Dad. He is part coon cat, so he is HUGE. And fluffy. His massive amounts of fur are deceiving. Everyone assumes he is fat, but really, he's just fluffy. He is much more shy and distrusting than his sister, due to some ornery people that teased him as a kitten. But, once you have earned his trust, you have it forever. He is quite the chicken about everything, actually, but loves his girls fiercely.
Yeah, he puts up with a lot.
This beautiful boy was never ours, but we loved him like our own.
Yup, that's Ranger. I blatently stole this beautiful photo that his mama, Jill, took. She wrote a beautiful post about their amazing Ranger here that you really ought to read. And while we were never technically his owners, he stole our hearts. Yup, he was a nut. And excitable. And ever-so-graceful with that weapon of a tail. But, I have no doubt that, had my children been home that horrible night, Ranger would have gladly given his life to protect theirs. He was a great dog.
I realized when I started looking for photos for this post that I started this blog 6 months after this beautiful girl died.
This is Maj. We adopted her in December 2006. She was our gorgeous pound pup. Maj was about 2 years old (they think) when we adopted her. The Animal Control had found her abandoned along the side of the road, badly injured. She had, obviously, had a litter of puppies, but no one could find them, or her owner. Once she was healthy, the Humane Society had a hard time finding a home for her because of her heart murmur. When I heard that, I knew she was ours. I have a heart murmur, too.
I have never seen a more gentle dog. She would wrestle the daylights out of Jerome, but step over a sleeping infant Madison on the floor with the upmost care. She knew exactly where the babies were at all times, and sometimes thought they were her own.
You could tell her former life was horrible, whatever her previous owners had done to her. She was terrified of the UPS man, until he won her over with treats. If my dad was in his "insurance" work clothes, she loved him. If he was in his "ranch" clothes, she cowered in the corner.
The only man she never feared was Jerome. If he was home, she was with him. Usually in his lap. She loved her "prince".
She passed away in April of 2008 from injuries after getting hit by a car. It was a freak accident that I will replay in my mind forever. If she had not had the heart murmur, they could have surgically repaired her badly injured leg. However, we knew her heart was not strong enough for surgery. I will never forget holding her in my lap as they administered the drugs to put her down, her tail wagging up until the very end. For the short amount of time we were blessed with her, she knew she was loved.
After all, that is the point of pets, isn't it? They are a reflection of God's forgiveness and unconditional love. A dog does not care who you are, what you drive, where you work. He only wants to play with you, to have your attention. A cat does not care who your friends are, what clothes you wear, where you live. She only wants to be loved.
