Who loves you more, your dog or your wife?

2025-04-03T20:54:51
When I think about the past and events in my past, I always have to remember that thirty years ago, there was a reset. Then, following a fire that took my house and everything in it, I lost most of the memories that were supported by photographs.
Relatives and friends have brought us some photos taken before the fire, and so I can reconstruct, from small pieces, a past that is becoming easier and easier to forget.
Searching through these leftover photos for the black-and-white post a few days ago, I found some forgotten photos that reminded me of loved ones from the past. I felt they deserved to be remembered in a Thursday story, a throwback to a time when I may not have been happier, but I was certainly younger!!!
I have also told that I had six dogs, not at the same time, but one after the other, in about 25 years, the most beautiful in my life.

I think it deserves a commemoration and a joke...

Who loves you more, your dog or your wife?
To find the correct answer, lock your wife and dog in your car's trunk and drive around town.
Who do you think will be happier to see you when you open the trunk of your car?

Lassie

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After a long time of wanting a dog, I managed to enlarge the family with a new member. I acted by the book and bought a puppy, but this story was short, with a painful ending and a promise that I would never try again.
Because promises are made to be broken, it wasn't long before I found someone with a two-year-old Collie who wanted to get rid of the dog. Of course, he didn't tell me why he was giving up the dog, but that would come later.
I wanted a Collie. I liked this breed a lot. I also liked shepherd dogs with big fur, greyhounds, and Collies, which have a head similar to that of Afghan Hounds. On top of all that, there was the famous series Lassie. My dog was, of course, Lassie!
This happened in the early '80s.
When Lassie came into our family, we understood why the old owner wanted to remove her. Unlike the established breed characteristics, Lassie was a nervous and hysterical dog. She was also aggressive, a good defender of the house—too good a defender—who bit many friends, especially the postman.
Beyond these less pleasant parts, Lassie had a strong maternal feeling that poured over my boy.

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The dog and the baby were never separated.

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She was the fourth member of the family.

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Parting was hard; it's a painful moment you don't want to live through, so a few years went by without having another dog, until...

Another man wanted to part with his dog. This time, it was a Labrador.
Carol
I had been following this breed for some time, until a friend had a friend who knew someone who was looking to part with his dog, a gorgeous Labrador.

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You may wonder why anyone would want to part with such a dog; what would be its fault?
Carol eats a lot. All the dogs I've had have eaten a lot and loved food. The problem was that it was in the late '90s, when there wasn't much food in Romania...

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Carol was a well-traveled dog. We had our first car in Carol's time, so the dog accompanied us on vacation. Because Labradors are known to be good swimmers and water lovers, Carol accompanied us on seaside vacations.

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I can't say they were easy vacations because Labradors are instinctive rescuers. Carol tried to pull out anyone swimming to sea, but there was trouble.
I had to give up going to the seaside with him, and I took him only to my grandparents' house in the country, where we had enough food for his enormous appetite.

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We have long lost two loved ones, Grandma and Carol.

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This photo means a lot to me. I see the grandmother who raised me and parts of the old house where I spent the best childhood years. I can't be hypocritical and say that I took this photo for my grandmother; I think I did it primarily because of Carol, and this is how I am left with such a fond memory.
Carol was happy in the country and loved walking in the hills as much as he loved the seaside.

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Us too.

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I never saw Carol die. He got used to walking the neighborhood streets alone. We didn't let him leave, but someone else lived in the same yard with us who didn't love Carol and encouraged these departures when we weren't home. Once, he left and never came back...
These were the dogs of my youth and my boy's childhood. That's how he learned to love dogs, and when he became a teenager, he wanted a dog of the breed he liked. They were already fashionable: pit bulls.

After the 1990s, when Romania went from communism to democracy, we had access to information, TV programs, and movies.
Hip-hop music and music videos brought this previously forbidden race to the attention of young people. Naturally, my boy wanted such a dog.
Pit
It was pretty expensive back then, $200, half my month's salary.

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He was a gorgeous dog. Like Lassie, Pit was different from others of his breed. The breed forced him to be fierce and tough, but Pit was afraid of ants! He was a loving dog.

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He was my son's dog—for a while. Then he was mine, meaning all the care fell to me. After he died, I decided he was the last. I haven't had another dog for more than ten years.

The photos are taken from old photos that I have gathered, so their quality is low. Please forgive that.

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I rely mostly on photos in all my blogs. Words don't help me as much as photos.

I always start with photos when I want to write a blog. Photos remind me of places, events, and feelings that turn into words.
I make this statement as a plea to those reading not to over-judge the text and to focus on the photos.

A wise saying goes that a photograph is worth a thousand words, but I don't think so.
It depends on the viewer.

I'm watching you!!



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