All Dogs Go To Heaven: A Tribute to Nina "Bean"

The world has lost one of the loveliest doggie souls today, my grand dog, Nina “Bean.” Nina had a real “dog’s life” until my daughter and son-in-law adopted her about a year and a half ago. She spent the first four years of her life as a “bait dog.” Baiting or dog baiting most commonly refers to the act of setting game dogs against a chained or confined animal for sport. It’s a cruel and vicious blood sport.


Nina was “rescued” and spent the next five years in a no-kill kennel. The only reason she wasn’t snatched up was because she was a pit bull. Without getting into the debate about the dangers of pit bulls, I will just say that it’s my belief when dogs are raised to fight and kill, that is what they will do.

Nina was just waiting for the right family to come along and that’s when she was rescued by my “kids,” Amber and John. When she was adopted, Nina was already nine years old, stiff legged, gray whiskered and scarred with dog bites, her jaw slightly askew having been broken, no doubt during the baiting.



Nina smiling in her sleep while basking in the sun

You’d think she would have been mean, distrustful, scared of people and other dogs, especially male dogs. But she wasn’t. You’ve heard the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul. You had only to look in Nina’s big brown eyes, straight to her soul, to see how lovely and kind she was.

Nina loved steak, cookies, her pink Princess collar, playing with her new brothers (Chance and Delgado, both 80 pound rescue dogs), belly-rubs, kisses and basking in the sun. She loved the freedom of using the doggie door and roaming the house and the big fenced yard. She loved her family.

Despite the hardships that Nina endured, her life was successful. How do I know? Because she was loved. Because people cried and grieved at her death.

It is too sad to look back at her past, so we will remember the joy she had with her new family and remember the coming joy because everybody knows that all dogs go to heaven.

RIP precious Nina “Bean.” You are loved and will be sorely missed.

Running With My GrandDog

Chance in full gear

When I was dogsitting a while back, I decided to take a run with my granddog, Chance.  He is an Olde English Bulldogge (rescued at 6 months), weighs about 80 pounds and is the sweetest, laziest dog you have ever seen.  I absolutely adore my granddog. 

Even though he is a lazy lay-about, if he suspects that he might be getting out of the house, he is all over it.  He’ll follow you from room to room with that cute, inquiring little wrinkle on his forehead, looking imploringly at you with his big brown eyes, and wondering if he could really, maybe, hopefully be going for a walk. Or in this case, a run. 

So we set off on our two-mile run, with me carrying a bottle of water to share between us.  If you know anything about bulldogs, you know that they don’t have a lot of stamina (perfect, I thought, because I have no stamina, either), they drool a lot, they have tender paws, and thin fur.  But I figured, hey, if I can run two miles, he can run two miles!  According to my daughter, he has run a 5k before. 

My first problem was that it was a warm day and he drank more than his half of the water!  Then I was out there dying of thirst, and of course I had to give him all he wants, because that’s what one does for ones granddog.  And not only that, but he totally slimed the bottle, too!  And then he started limping.  He does have shoes, but I didn’t bring them because, well, it’s only two miles, right?  As a matter of fact, he has his own wardrobe; shoes, rain coat, life vest, cooling vest, backpack – he has it all. 

So we rested on a bench, and two little boys rode up on their bikes with their cute little helmets and told me that my dog looked really tired, and looked at me totally accusingly, I thought.  Like my dog was dying and it was my fault!  Yes, Chance had drool on his face, but that’s because he shook his head and wrapped it completely around his nose – that’s what bulldogs do! They slime and drool.  But all I could say was, we’re almost home – bulldogs get really tired.  We haven’t gone that far, for Heaven’s sake!  No, I didn’t really say that last part – didn't want to scare the kiddos. 

I’m just saying....Maybe bulldogs aren’t the best running companions.

Happy 4^th Birthday, Chance!