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When we found him, he was blind and soaking, slumped in an alleyway, clearly close to death. He struggled to stand, then listed to one side and collapsed again. We watched him for a moment, horrified. And then, because we couldn't just leave him there to die, we picked him up and brought him inside.
We laid him gently on the white expanse of our kitchen counter. After the blurry dark of the monsoon outside, the kitchen felt as bright and quiet as an operating theater. My fiancé, Colin, placed him inside a robin's-egg-blue Tiffany box. We called him Tiffany, and then later, Mr. Tiffany—but most often, we called him Mr. T. That night, while I lay in our bedroom, hiding from the creature's inevitable death, Colin nursed him once an hour with eyedroppers of milk and energy drinks.
He was a street rat, no more than a few days old. His life had begun in the grimy alley beside our apartment in Hong Kong, and to most people, he would have embodied filth and disease. But we saw instead a fragile, unknowable life, and in the three years that followed, we came to see him as no average soul.
Mr. T entered our world during a time of transition. Our wedding was three months away, and I was working seven days a week, often long into the night. My job as a foreign correspondent kept me in constant motion and took me around the world; even owning furniture seemed like a big commitment. I tried not to think about what that would mean for the future. Colin and I planned to have children someday, though some nights we could barely find time to have dinner. Taking in a half-dead rat that needed sustained attention just to survive hadn't been on my agenda.
Which was why, when Colin and I found that Mr. T was miraculously still breathing the next morning, we vowed to set the rat free as soon as he'd recovered fully. He had survived, but he was a wild animal who deserved to live among his own kind. Not to mention that we had both read up on the extensive roster of virulent diseases rodents carry. Unwilling to get attached, I avoided him like, well, the plague.
Still, as he gained strength over the following weeks, we couldn't help celebrating Mr. T's tiny milestones: the moment a week after we found him when he opened his eyes in Colin's palm, the night he lost his fear of our shiny floor tiles, the day he turned a bicycle into a jungle gym, his little black shrimp's eyes flashing in excitement as he clambered over its pedals and wheels.
Mr. T began to make himself at home, confiscating mail, pens, and whole pizza slices and dragging them under the sofa, then chewing a crawl space inside the sofa itself. It was clear he intended to settle in for the long haul. But could we really keep this animal? On the other hand, was it even feasible for Mr. T to reenter the wild? We called a professor at Oxford University who specialized in rat behavior. He told us that domesticated rats set free in the forest begin acting like wild rats within a few hours. There was nothing stopping us from bidding Mr. T adieu and moving on with our lives.
Nothing except the fact that we couldn't resist his charms. Already, he'd begun to train us in his care. By knocking over his dinner dishes or leaving them untouched, he made it clear that most vegetables—carrots, green beans, peppers—were inedible unless drenched in butter. He would eat peas, but only when shelled; the tops, but never the stalks, of broccoli; blueberries, but only if cut in half. His favorite foods were mushroom pâté, sushi, and scrambled eggs. A few drops of beer were always appreciated. We prepared him two hot meals a day, which he ate with surgical precision, extracting the fattiest morsels first. He was too cute to let go.
Colin built Mr. T a five-story dwelling from wood and chicken wire, which we furnished with the cushions of the sofa he had destroyed. Mr. T compulsively redesigned his home, shredding the cushions and shoving bits of stuffing into the gaps in the chicken wire. Sometimes he would snuggle under my palm, pushing his nose into the V between my thumb and forefinger. If I tried to move away, he would grip my fingers with powder-pink, gummy-palmed paws.
I began to see Hong Kong as a place teeming with more than just human life: the giant hoary moth wrapped around the corner of an office building, the bird squatting on the pavement outside a watch shop, the feral dogs that patrolled the area behind our apartment building. One afternoon, after noticing one of Mr. T's grubbier cousins in the same alley where we had found him, I realized that the line we draw between animals that are socially acceptable and those we find repugnant can be awfully arbitrary.
As Mr. T steadily pawed his way into our hearts, Colin and I identified, for the first time in our lives, as parents. My husband was a rational and generous father, and I was a neurotic, fussy mom. Colin tried to see the world through Mr. T's eyes, adding a solid wooden door to Mr. T's home when he realized how much he liked his privacy, or adhesive sandpaper when he saw Mr. T slip on his ramps. Meanwhile, I obsessed over Mr. T's health, fearing that every nap or failed attempt to mount the coffee table signaled terminal illness.
I felt our world conforming to Mr. T's needs—and I loved it. Colin and I stopped going out to dinner as often and instead spent evenings in our living room, beaming proudly as Mr. T dragged apples and socks into his house with great seriousness. Some nights, we stayed up on the sofa until 2, 3, 4 in the morning, waiting for the nocturnal Mr. T to rouse himself and pad downstairs. We stopped traveling together so one of us could always be home to keep him company, and when that was impossible, we enlisted house sitters and left an instruction manual nearly an inch thick. At parties we matched our friends' tales of their children with news of Mr. T's latest tricks, his most recent fascinations: wooden knives and forks, starchy restaurant napkins, salmon sashimi. I posted photos on Facebook of Mr. T eating green beans, his tiny paws covered in tomato sauce, or Mr. T in repose, his whiskers a halo around his face.
And all the while, we grappled with the fact that Mr. T didn't have much time. On the streets, most rats die before their first birthday. In captivity, many die by 3. Not long after he turned 2, Mr. T's once rapid pace slowed to a jog, then a waddle, and he began to sleep more solidly through the days. But he was determined to keep going. When, as I had often worried he might, he developed a tumor—it was as large as his head—we found a microsurgeon who removed it, and Mr. T sprinted across our living room the same day. When a spinal condition paralyzed his back legs, he adapted by pulling himself up and down the ramps with his front paws.
One night Mr. T began to struggle to breathe. This time the surgeon couldn't save him. Mr. T died in Colin's hands. We had him cremated, and held a small ceremony in which we scattered some of his ashes in the park behind our apartment building so he could rest near his family. We put the remainder of his ashes in an urn, which we placed beside a picture of him in our living room, and tried to adjust to the sad fact that we didn't get to be Mr. T's mom and dad anymore. But shortly after his passing, Colin and I became parents to a son, whom we named Louis T.
A few years earlier, we had struggled to find even a spare hour in the day—but Mr. T taught us how to make room in our lives for the future we wanted, to be more empathetic, more patient. He taught us to love unconditionally. We'd found Mr. T in one of life's interstices, between dating and marriage, coupledom and parenthood. If it had been a dog or a cat slumped in our alleyway that night, there would be no story to tell. We would have brought the animal to a shelter. Knowing that nobody would do that for Mr. T made us bring him into our home, and doing so made all the difference.
Some of our friends and family just didn't get Mr. T. They never understood how we could love a rat. We never understood how, if you had the pleasure of meeting him, it was possible not to.
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I feel the same way. I come home every day, and I hear the sound of monty's tail smacking the wall as I walk up to the door. When I was gone for 3 days to visit family, my girlfriend said he went into out laundry, pulled out a pair of my dirty boxers and slept with his head on them every night I was gone. He's my first dog, got him at 8 months, he's just about a year now. He's a little bastard sometimes, as he was neglected, very underweight and not socialized properly, but he is learning fast, and is as good natured as can be. I can't imagine life without him now. I say this to everybody. If you are thinking of adopting a dog, and think you can handle it, go to the pound and meet a dog who needs it.
We had Minnie for barely two months after taking her in from a neighbor who fell ill. We were both devastated when she died unexpectedly. It was nearly a month before I could look at her picture without breaking down. I can't even imagine how hard it will be when Groucho goes over the rainbow bridge - my biggest hope is that it's not something sudden and unexpected like it was with Minnie.
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Godzira
Does anyone know how many to a signature?
..
Quote:
Originally Posted by Brianrietta
Not a sebberry post goes by where I don't frown and think to myself "so..?"
I don't have the courage to own a dog who, one day, will die and the emotions associated will tear me apart. The OP's video was enough to bring tears to my eyes, honestly.
Willing to sell a family member for a few minutes on RS
Join Date: Apr 2011
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Posts: 13,342
Thanked 33,768 Times in 7,981 Posts
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I'd like to bump this with a little story of my last night. I'm at home right now with some pretty fucking savage food poisoning. As a result I probably was from my bed to the bathroom to shit or puke probably 40-50 times in the last 12 hours. Every time I got up, my dog would walk to the bathroom with me, wait outside and lie there, and then walk with me back to bed. It was like he was just thinking "I'm here for ya buddy"
Mines getting older, slower, doesn't walk like before and is sleeping more and more. I know we're a lot closer to the end then the beginning and thinking about what is coming makes me tear up. I'm dreading the day, he's been there through my best and my worst, first house, latest house and my first and only born. Always loyal, always in a good mood. Besides my wife he's been the one constant in my life the last 10+ years. When that day comes I'm going to be devastated but it's got to be me I owe him that.
__________________
“The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place... and I don´t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently, if you let it. You, me or nobody, is gonna hit as hard as life. But ain't about how hard you hit... It's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward... how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That´s how winning is done. Now, if you know what you worth, go out and get what you worth.” - Rocky Balboa
I'd like to bump this with a little story of my last night. I'm at home right now with some pretty fucking savage food poisoning. As a result I probably was from my bed to the bathroom to shit or puke probably 40-50 times in the last 12 hours. Every time I got up, my dog would walk to the bathroom with me, wait outside and lie there, and then walk with me back to bed. It was like he was just thinking "I'm here for ya buddy"
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Godzira
Does anyone know how many to a signature?
..
Quote:
Originally Posted by Brianrietta
Not a sebberry post goes by where I don't frown and think to myself "so..?"
Mines getting older, slower, doesn't walk like before and is sleeping more and more. I know we're a lot closer to the end then the beginning and thinking about what is coming makes me tear up. I'm dreading the day, he's been there through my best and my worst, first house, latest house and my first and only born. Always loyal, always in a good mood. Besides my wife he's been the one constant in my life the last 10+ years. When that day comes I'm going to be devastated but it's got to be me I owe him that.
Made me think of this... #10 always gets me:
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Godzira
Does anyone know how many to a signature?
..
Quote:
Originally Posted by Brianrietta
Not a sebberry post goes by where I don't frown and think to myself "so..?"
I just lost by best friend on sunday morning about 5am. I adopted him 10.5 years ago. I'll never forget the day. My daughter had just turned 7 a couple months prior and had been begging me to get her a dog. His name was Ringle. He was almost 14 years old border collie blue healer mix. He was bright caring playfull and a dink. Me with four legs we were a perfect match ying and yang.
He had been diagnosed with anal sac carcinoma back in April and given 8 weeks to live. It was discovered that he had this for over a year prior unnoticed we and the vets were very shocked. Taking into account his age and how long he had this untreated there was no point in operating it had already spread.
I took it upon myself to do what he would done if the tables were turned. I cared for him. They recommended I put him down when he had troubles shitting. I instead cooked him soup and other easy to digest foods. They recommended I put him down when he began to have trouble walking up stairs. I instead carried him. As long as he wanted to be by my side he was going to be.
I layed with him until 5am November 11th when he slipped away. I'm so thankfull for the opportunity to love and be loved as I was with him and he with me.
Love your dogs and dont be ashamed to say they are so much more than just dogs cus they are.
Today my shop is empty without him.
__________________ Rise Auto Salon
11938 95a Ave Delta
I can be reached VIA text @ 778-232-1465
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Willing to sell a family member for a few minutes on RS
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: North vancouver
Posts: 13,342
Thanked 33,768 Times in 7,981 Posts
Failed 228 Times in 176 Posts
Sorry for you loss Phil. Caring, playful and a dink. Sounds like a perfect dog. Just rebellious enough to know he's all about having fun. Props on returning the love he gave you so he could live the last portion of his life.
I just lost by best friend on sunday morning about 5am. I adopted him 10.5 years ago. I'll never forget the day. My daughter had just turned 7 a couple months prior and had been begging me to get her a dog. His name was Ringle. He was almost 14 years old border collie blue healer mix. He was bright caring playfull and a dink. Me with four legs we were a perfect match ying and yang.
He had been diagnosed with anal sac carcinoma back in April and given 8 weeks to live. It was discovered that he had this for over a year prior unnoticed we and the vets were very shocked. Taking into account his age and how long he had this untreated there was no point in operating it had already spread.
I took it upon myself to do what he would done if the tables were turned. I cared for him. They recommended I put him down when he had troubles shitting. I instead cooked him soup and other easy to digest foods. They recommended I put him down when he began to have trouble walking up stairs. I instead carried him. As long as he wanted to be by my side he was going to be.
I layed with him until 5am November 11th when he slipped away. I'm so thankfull for the opportunity to love and be loved as I was with him and he with me.
Love your dogs and dont be ashamed to say they are so much more than just dogs cus they are.
Today my shop is empty without him.
omg your little guy is gone? i remember him running around and playing the few times i came by.
I love my beautiful German Shepherd, Morres! I slept right beside him last night, the entire night because I was so concerned for his health. He must have recently dug something up from my backyard and ate something because he was vomiting like crazy and diarrhea. He couldn't keep anything down, it went in but came right back out. He didn't eat anything for almost two days but I got him back from the vets office last night and so far so good. He's acting like his old self again and eating his bland diet of boiled rice and chicken for about a week so his stomach can recover from whatever was going on. I'm super happy and no longer stressed out of my mind that my buddy is back normal.
To Phil, I know how you feel. My parents owned a German Shepherd that they adopted when he was about 5 years old and we gave him a great 7 years before he passed away. It was strange not having him around and no one can replace him. I'm sorry for your loss. And you're very right, love your dogs and don't be ashamed. To most animal lovers/owners, our pets are like our children.
__________________ When life hands you lemons, you clone those lemons and make.. super lemons! - Principal Cinnamon J. Scudworth
fuck you guys, im just about to go sleep and now im all choked up lol my gf's neighbour had a dog who just passed away this monday. he was an old doggie, they had him for a good 13 years. i never really met the poor little guy cept one time when me and the girl went to visit him. it was sad to see the owners in such distraught, specially the husband in the family as it was basically HIS dog. It was so sad..ill dread the day its time for our little Maxie. Luckily shes only 2 n a half, so we still get her for a while
RIP to your doggie Phil, your story made me choke up pretty bad cus it reminds me of OP's video
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I admire the loyalty in those dogs that follows their homeless owners around on the streets.
just last week I saw a dog laying behind a street sign, I was thinking wtf? that dogs left alone. Then driving up prob 20 feet I saw its owner asking for money. Then I thought Damn.. what being is able to show such loyalty.
so I thought a bit more, what If I paid the guy 1000 bucks, and took the dog home.
give it the best food, best care and love.
Or would the dog reject all its food and whimpers all night missing its owner.
I honestly believe that dog would much see happiness following its owners shadow instead of munching off in a strangers place.
anyways, this was just a thought I had last week when I saw that dog on boundary and canada way.
made me cry when i watched the video while warming up my car... :'( luckily i didn't wear any make up, or else i'd look like a zombie goin out
thank you all for the reminder to love our dogs and appreciate our dogs like they deserve...my boxer is 2.5 years old only, but time passes by so quickly i'm already fearful of the future. The weather's changing and i noticed that his nose is a bit more wet than usual...scared that he would catch a cold, i bought him a new shirt/vest that he could wear at home (his PJs). When he goes out for walks, I help him change into a different jacket to keep him clean, block the wind, and keep him cozy.
I love him to death, and watching that video gave me nightmares. He's like my baby...don't know what i'd do if one day he's not lying next to me anymore...
ahg, this is depressing.
__________________ 05 Mazda 3 Sport
03 Nissan 350z
----------------------------------
Before sex, you help each other get naked. After sex, you only dress yourself.
Moral of story: In life, no one helps you once you're fucked.
thought you were a guy at first and crying + make up. till I read your sigs.. Phew..
i'm actually a guy...
__________________ 05 Mazda 3 Sport
03 Nissan 350z
----------------------------------
Before sex, you help each other get naked. After sex, you only dress yourself.
Moral of story: In life, no one helps you once you're fucked.
Thanks guys. No dog is homeless if it has someone to love and get love in return. Dogs dont look at a house or a tv and a couch like we do they dont care for the monetary just a leg to walk next to and someone to watch out for. Thats why we and dogs work so well together cus in the end thats all we are after too.
__________________ Rise Auto Salon
11938 95a Ave Delta
I can be reached VIA text @ 778-232-1465
Oil change special $70 5 liters synthetic oil including OEM filter Fender rolling from $45 per fender Car Audio:
Focal, Morel, Genesis, Clarion, Scosche, Escort, Compustar, GReddy, Blitz, Tomei, Motul, Endless, Defi, Cusco, Nismo + More
We specialize in:
Custom Car Audio
Race/4x4 Fabrication
Forced Induction
Engine Swaps
General Maintenance
Thanks guys. No dog is homeless if it has someone to love and get love in return. Dogs dont look at a house or a tv and a couch like we do they dont care for the monetary just a leg to walk next to and someone to watch out for. Thats why we and dogs work so well together cus in the end thats all we are after too.
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