Gary Mitchell
Well-known Member
A dozen years ago my brother was helping a friend remodel a house that was on a 80 he'd bought. The people that moved out abandoned a
Pyrenees female which naturally whelped after a couple of days. The friend fed her a little along but a couple of the pups got road
killed and time was probably running out for the bunch of them. He told me that the pups appeared to sired by a lab and were all white.
Our big dog had died a few months before so he asked if we might be interested in one of the pups. We ended up hauling Amos home to
rural Osceola with us. He was a dandy from the start. Cathy put him up at nights in a crate on the back porch and covered the crate
door with a throw-rug she left on top. It wasn't long before Amos would turn in on his own, pulling on the edge of the rug until it
fell down over the door hole, essentially turning out the lights.
It didn't take him long to reach #120 and he did love his chow but for some reason he preferred I sit and watch him eat. I have no idea
why but usually he had to bark at his food a bit before he ate. He also loved to wade in the pond. Back when I could still ride a
tractor to mow pasture he would follow me around the pasture endlessly, detouring for the occasional bird or bunny only to be back
before long. He developed hip dysplasia over the years and had lately had a lot of trouble getting up. Also, we had been treating him
for heart worms almost from the beginning. Last week came the day we'd been dreading for some time. He couldn't get up anymore. He'd
been down for more that a day, wouldn't take chow, even balls of cheese which he loved. Cathy went to work and I told her I'd do
whatever needed done. I sat and talked with Amos for a while and he didn't respond much, while he had glassy eyes and acted oddly.
I called the vet we used and a couple of hours later he came out. He gave Amos a shot while I talked to him and rubbed his cheek. He
just laid his big old head down and was gone. Dave, the vet, took Amos with him to cremate him. I can't hardly use a shovel anymore and
St Clair Co. Missouri is not a good place to dig a hole that would have held Amos. He was the greatest of pets/friends/sentries we ever
had and he left a big hole in our hearts when he left. He was family in every sense of the word. gm
Pyrenees female which naturally whelped after a couple of days. The friend fed her a little along but a couple of the pups got road
killed and time was probably running out for the bunch of them. He told me that the pups appeared to sired by a lab and were all white.
Our big dog had died a few months before so he asked if we might be interested in one of the pups. We ended up hauling Amos home to
rural Osceola with us. He was a dandy from the start. Cathy put him up at nights in a crate on the back porch and covered the crate
door with a throw-rug she left on top. It wasn't long before Amos would turn in on his own, pulling on the edge of the rug until it
fell down over the door hole, essentially turning out the lights.
It didn't take him long to reach #120 and he did love his chow but for some reason he preferred I sit and watch him eat. I have no idea
why but usually he had to bark at his food a bit before he ate. He also loved to wade in the pond. Back when I could still ride a
tractor to mow pasture he would follow me around the pasture endlessly, detouring for the occasional bird or bunny only to be back
before long. He developed hip dysplasia over the years and had lately had a lot of trouble getting up. Also, we had been treating him
for heart worms almost from the beginning. Last week came the day we'd been dreading for some time. He couldn't get up anymore. He'd
been down for more that a day, wouldn't take chow, even balls of cheese which he loved. Cathy went to work and I told her I'd do
whatever needed done. I sat and talked with Amos for a while and he didn't respond much, while he had glassy eyes and acted oddly.
I called the vet we used and a couple of hours later he came out. He gave Amos a shot while I talked to him and rubbed his cheek. He
just laid his big old head down and was gone. Dave, the vet, took Amos with him to cremate him. I can't hardly use a shovel anymore and
St Clair Co. Missouri is not a good place to dig a hole that would have held Amos. He was the greatest of pets/friends/sentries we ever
had and he left a big hole in our hearts when he left. He was family in every sense of the word. gm
