Nikki

Nikki (aka Pickles, Frickles, Nickelback, Nickalodeon) - Berkeley’s first litter, born July 4th, 2005. Daddy is Tyson Cole (2003-2005, RIP). Nikki is the runt of the litter and has the most energy and is so funny!

Lisey

Named after Stephen King’s “Lisey’s Story” (hubby chose this one) - she was singled out as a pup because of her sweet temperament and she had these clear blue eyes for the first few weeks and an almost creepy, intense (and very intelligent and aware) stare!

She is Stick’s puppy (first litter, born Nov. 07 - daddy is Chase) and she is BIG and sweet!

Lil’ Hugs

Lil’ Hugs (started out as Aerie but the name didn’t stick, and once we saw how much like her momma - Schtick aka Big Hugs - daddy started calling her Lil’ Hugs, and then from there we added Hug-a-Muffin, Hug-a-Bug, Huggit McNugget, Hug-a-Bunch, Hugs, Frugs, and so on….! lol)

She is Schtick’s (TyGirl/Stick/Big Hugs) puppy, born Nov. 07 (first litter) - Chase is her daddy. I have to say she is one of my favorites! I LOVE lil hugs!

Jenna Bean

Jenna Bean (aka Beaner, Beanie, Bean, Beanie Bot - supposedly named after Jenna Jamison - lol)

Born July 4th, 2005 - Berkeley is her mom (first litter), and Tyson (2003 - 2005, RIP) is her daddy. Jenna Bean has had 2 litters and we have kept Piper, Fedor & Jilly (and gave Maddie to my mother).

Jilly Bean

Jilly Bean is Jenna Bean’s puppy (second litter, born Feb. 14th, 2008 - female - daddy is Chase)

Mikeylah

Mikeylah is Sibby’s puppy (first litter, born Nov. 07, female - daddy is Chase)

Nia

Nia is Sibby’s puppy (born Nov. 07, female, daddy is Chase). We just gave her to my mom - mom had CJ but she was too rambunctious and destroyed her pillow, 3 shirts, 2 sets of crocs (new!), a table leg, and has eaten at least 18 meals of mom’s that were on a plate on the table, desk, or kitchen counter, so she gave her back and took Nia, who is a little angel! lol!) I miss Nia a lot, though!

Cashleigh

What a sweet baby girl!

This is one of Schtick’s little girls (first litter, female, born Nov. 07 - one day before Sibby’s litter - daddy is Chase) - and for a pup, she’s pretty well behaved! (Though she does have an affinity for peeing and occasionally plopping a big smelly one on the living room rug…)

Daddy thinks she’s such a sweet little cuddlebug and we love to watch her play!

Likes:

• woobies
• snuggling
• playing with Sibby, Schtick & Jilly Bean (really anybody that’ll play with her!)
• sleeping on the bad or the papasan chair (or Sibby’s bed, or the couch…)
• LOVES peanut butter

Dislikes

• not much!

Special characteristics, tricks & traits:

• barking at herself in the mirror
• getting in the dry bathtub (just like her momma Schtick)
• she’s very vocal - just like her momma Schtick - she whines when she plays with her toys and she barks at EVERYTHING and she makes the funniest noises when she’s playing rough!

I’m so glad we have Cashleigh in our lives - what a precious little baby!!

I Found Your Dog Today…
(author unknown)

I found your dog today.
No, he has not been adopted by anyone.
Most of us who live out here own as many
dogs as we want, those who do not own
dogs do so because they choose not to.
I know you hoped he would find a good
home when you left him out here, but he
did not. When I first saw him he was miles
from the nearest house and he was alone,
thirsty, thin and limping from a burr in his paw.

How I wish I could have been you as I stood
before him. To see his tail wag and his eyes
brighten as he bounded into your arms, knowing
you would find him, knowing you had not
forgotten him. To see the forgiveness in his eyes
for the suffering and pain he had known
in his never-ending quest to find you…but I was
not you. And despite all my persuasion, his
eyes see a stranger. He did not trust.
He would not come.

He turned and continued his journey;
one he was sure would bring him to you.
He does not understand you are not looking for
him. He only knows you are not there, he only
knows he must find you. This is more important
than food or water or the stranger who can give
him these things.

Persuasion and pursuit seemed futile;
I did not even know his name. I drove home,
filled a bucket with water and a bowl with food
and returned to where we had met. I could see
no sign of him, but I left my offering under the
tree where he had sought shelter from the sun
and a chance to rest. You see, he is not of the
desert. When you domesticated him, you took
away any instinct of survival out here. His
purpose demands that he travel during the day.
He doesn’t know that the sun and heat will claim
his life. He only knows that he has to find you.

I waited hoping he would return to the tree;
hoping my gift would build an element of trust
so I might bring him home, remove the burr from
his paw, give him a cool place to lie and help
him understand that the part of his life with you
is now over. He did not return that morning and
at dusk the water and food were still there
untouched. And I worried. You must understand
that many people would not attempt to help your
dog. Some would run him off, others would call
the county and the fate you thought you saved
him from would be preempted by his suffering
for days without food or water.

I returned again before dark. I did not see him.
I went again early the next morning only to find
the food and water still untouched. If only you
were here to call his name. Your voice is so
familiar to him. I began pursuit in the direction
he had taken yesterday, doubt overshadowing
my hope of finding him. His search for you was
desperate, it could take him many miles in
24 hours.

It is hours later and a good distance from where
we first met, but I have found your dog. His thirst
has stopped, it is no longer a torment to him.
His hunger has disappeared, he no longer aches.
The burrs in his paws bother him no more.
Your dog has been set free from his burdens,
you see, your dog has died.

I kneel next to him and I curse you for not being
here yesterday so I could see the glow, if just for
a moment, in those now vacant eyes. I pray that
his journey has taken him to that place I think you
hoped he would find. If only you knew what he
went through to reach it…and I agonize, for I know,
that were he to awaken at this moment, and (if) I
were to be you, his eyes would sparkle with
recognition and his tail would wag with forgiveness.

Why own a dog? There’s a danger you know,
You can’t own just one, for the craving will grow.
There’s no doubt they’re addictive, wherein lies the danger.
While living with lots, you’ll grow poorer and stranger.

One dog is no trouble, and two are so funny.
The third one is easy, the fourth one’s a honey.
The fifth one’s delightful, the sixth one’s a breeze,
You find you can live with a houseful with ease.

So how ’bout another? Would you really dare?
They’re really quite easy but, oh, Lord the hair!
With dogs on the sofa and dogs on the bed,
And crates in the kitchen, it’s no bother, you’ve said.

They’re really no trouble, their manners are great.
What’s one more dog and just one more crate?
The sofa is hairy, the windows are crusty,
The floor is all footprints, the furniture dusty.

The housekeeping suffers, but what do you care?
Who minds a few noseprints and a little more hair?
So let’s keep a puppy, you can always find room,
And a little more time for the dust cloth and broom.

There’s hardly a limit to the dogs you can add,
The thought of a cutback sure makes you sad.
Each one is so special, so useful, so funny.
The vet and food bills grow larger and cost so much money.

Your folks never visit, few friends come to stay,
Except other “dog folks” who live the same way.
Your lawn has now died, and your shrubs are dead too,
But your weekends are busy, you’re off with your crew.

There’s dog food and vitamins, training and shots.
And entries and travel and motels which cost lots.
Is it worth it you wonder? Are you caught in a trap?
Then that favorite one comes and climbs in your lap.

His look says you’re special and you know that you will
Keep all of the critters in spite of the bill.
Some just for showing and some just to breed.
And some just for loving, they all fill a need.

God, winter’s a hassle, the dogs hate it too.
But they must have their walks though they’re numb and you’re blue.
Late evening is awful, you scream and you shout
At the dogs on the sofa who refuse to go out.

The dogs and the dog shows, the travel, the thrills,
The work and the worry, the pressure, the bills.
The whole thing seems worth it, the dogs are your life.
They’re charming and funny and offset the strife.

Your life-style has changed. Things won’t be the same.
Yes, those dogs are addictive and so is the dog game.

Unknown Poet