Feet at rest

All in a day's work

Over the last few days, I suspected this might be true, but found it hard to believe. But it is true and I wonder why it should surprise me, as smart as Ivy is. . .

Today, I was out in the yard doing doggy deposit duty. That's right, picking up dog poop. Ivy was out with me and I noticed that she was on point. I walked over and sure enough, she had scoped out a pile for me to pick up. I picked it up, told her she was a good girl and she ran to another pile and pointed.

Can you believe this dog?

No pictures of this self taught feat yet, but I'll see if I can capture a picture of her pointing out piles for me.

Related Tags: vizsla, smart dog

Angelic Beings

This sweet Vizsla named Maddie is owned by Barb, a reader of Vizslocity. Barb tells me that Maddie was a second mother to her daughter. She ran to her side everytime she cried and spent months sleeping beside her crib.

Barb has two vizslas, Maddie and Blue. Don't they look angelic all snuggled up together?

For the love of Samantha

This morning I read a moving poem, written by a woman who had just lost her dear Vizsla friend, Samantha. Tears streamed down my face as I read her description of the white muzzle, soft fur, and soulful eyes. So many times my heart has skipped a beat and I've had to catch my breath when I have looked into Eve's precious graying face and realized that I will have to say good bye to her someday. The poem was especially moving to me when I learned about the circumstances of Samantha's adoption.

"My daughter Nikole suffered from an eating disorder when she took in Samantha at age 12. Sami needed to be re homed because her owners were in their 90's, ill and moving into an nursing home. But in turned out that Samantha rescued Nikole:"

Poem for Samantha
Skyway Chatterbox CD, NA
November 2, 1991 - September 24, 2006

"Samantha"

I remember the very first day we met.
I remember the hour.
I remember the minute.
I remember the moment.
It was a warm, golden afternoon
and a wonderful, hopeful day.
Full of hope for me.
Full of hope for you.
I saw you across the room,
a beautiful mix of white
swilred with red.
As soon as you noticed me,
standing there for you,
bounding across the floor you came.
An old, beautiful white muzzle and soft fur,
peppered with freckles and two soulful eyes.
You leaped up and kissed me a thousand times over
with the energy and pep
of a pup half your age.
I knew from that moment
we were meant for one another.
I would save you.
You would save me.
We needed each other.
I needed you more than you could have possibly known.
You became my reason
for getting up in the morning.
You were the reason,
to go outside and play in the sun.
Because of you I felt whole again
and everything that kept me alive
was in your kind spirit.
I loved watching you doze off
with your little, pink, wet tongue
peeking out.
The cute little snores you would make
would soothe me to sleep.
The way that you grunted and chattered
when you were excited,
I couldn't help but pat your head
and smile from ear to ear.
Your face was so soft and so snowy white
and had I closed my eyes,
I could have sworn it to be velvet.
Long walks were something you loved;
running in that park while I playfully chased after you,
sniffing everything within your path.
When you slept at the my feet at night
I would bundle you up in blankets
and I would feel so safe,
so warm,
so loved.
I hope you did too.
You enjoyed going to the windows to look outside
and then walking through the curtains
having the material itch your back for you
as you walked on through.
I would laugh with joy when you would do your running leap
to get up on the sofa
to snuggle up and take a nap.
When you started getting thin,
losing too much weight,
refusing to eat,
my heart started to break.
I made you scrambled eggs, cream cheese bagels,
veggie burgers, chicken nuggets,
and your favourite, peanut butter sandwiches,
anything you could have wanted,
but still you would not eat.
I needed you to eat.
I would carry your fragile body up and down the stairs,
so we could still sleep together
bundled up in blankets and warmth.
I took you outside every hour for fresh air
and peace of mind
until you became too tired,
too weak,
to go out that much.
I watched as you withered away to nothing but skin and bones,
but still, you had those gorgeous, soulful eyes.
You started to sleep a lot, no energy to go for the long walks
that you had loved so much.
You became too delicate for me to carry up the stairs,
so I slept downstairs with you everynight instead.
When the hour was apon you,
I felt it
and it made my whole body ache with sorrow.
Together we found a dark, quiet place for you to try and rest.
You went to the window
and walked through the curtains one last time,
then you layed down.
I layed there with you.
You tried to get comfortable
and I could see your chest struggle to fill with breath;
your panting, short and shallow.
I stroked your sweet face and kissed your damp, little, freckled nose.
Still, you tried to be comfortable.
You looked at me one last time
and rested your head in the palm of my hand.
I petted your head and shoulders,
listening to your breath get less
and less.
I have never felt so helpless in my life,
watching my baby struggle for for her own.
I wanted so desperately to help you,
breathe for you,
but there was nothing I could do.
I choked back my hot tears
and told you "I love you",
"Don't be scared",
"I love you Sam".
I must have said it a thousand times,
but I still could have said it a thousand more.
We layed there on the floor,
your velvet soft head in my hand
and I watched you try,
try so hard to take air in your lungs.
I watched as the last gasp came
and then, no more.
My love, my joy, my reason for living, my everything, my baby
was gone.
I held you,
still soft, still warm
and I couldn't believe it.
I kept waiting,
waiting for you to get up.
I waited for you to wake
so we could go outside and play.
You never got up.
I now know what a broken heart feels like,
but I hope,
someday she will kiss my face again
and we will run through the grass.
She will nuzzle her face in my chest
and my heart will be together again.

9/24/2006
Nikole T. Zelneronok

Nikole, my heart goes out to you, as well as my thoughts and prayers. Those of us who have loved a Vizsla know the loss you are experiencing. Rest in peace Samantha.

Published by permission

New Home--Fresh Start

Meet Gertie. Isn't she a doll? Gertie is a Vizsla/Lab mix and a very lucky girl. You see, she was just rescued by Stephanie and Matt and is settling in to her new home with them. She even managed to make her way to television when her new owners took her to a benefit walk for ALS in Kansas City and a local television station was filming crowd shots for the news. And now a feature on Vizslocity!? She's famous! This girl is "going places!"

Stephanie and Matt were attracted to the gentle nature and velcro personality of the Vizsla breed. And so they did exactly the right thing; they read up on the breed and corresponded with other vizsla owners, and they sought out the advice and help of their local Vizsla Club. One of the kind Show-Me Vizsla Club members invited them to a club meeting where they could meet Vizslas and talk to their owners. There, they met a lady who heads up the rescue and she brought out Gertrude. Gertrude, or Gertie, is blessed with the Vizsla personality and charmed them with her Vizsla ways.

That's when it happened. The Vizsla bug bit them! They had no intentions of rescuing a dog that day, but fell in LOVE with her and couldn't stop thinking about her all day. Later that evening, they called the rescue lady and a week later, she was in their arms!

Gertie was adopted from the Show-me Vizsla Shelter/Rescue. She is settling in with her new stuffed pheasant, kong toy and nylabone. She is very loved and will enjoy many days of companionship with Stephanie and her husband who works for himself and plans to take her to work with him! Stephanie is a runner and Gertie will make a good partner someday. Yes, Gertie is "going places"--places every Vizsla wants to go--everywhere you want to go!