Well, I haven't been on here in almost a year. It's just too hard to be here.  Today marks the first anniversary of Stimpy's passing. I can't believe it's been a year without him. It feels like an eternity since I felt his soft velvety face, heard his old man grumblings and watched him run across the yard. I miss him so much.  I have his ashes on my dresser and I hang my locket near him every night. My locket has a piece of his hair in it and I wear it every day.

Sometimes I think I hear him meandering down the hallway...slowly with his little toenails clicking on the wood flooring. Other times I swear I hear his little sneeze coming from his favourite spot on the couch in the other room.  Sometimes when I sit near his place on the couch, I swear I can feel the warmth on the pillow as if he had just been laying there.

I feel Stimpy with me every day of my life. I feel he is watching over me, and I feel great comfort knowing that he is watching over our little baby girl, who we are expecting this July.

I just wanted to come here today...This has always been a place that reminds me so much of my boy, as I always wrote here what I thought Stimpy would want people to know about him. I guess that's why it's so hard for me to come here.

Rest in Peace my beautiful boy.

While I was searching petfinder.com (a great place to adopt a homeless animal!), I decided to visit the website of the wonderful animal rescue that I  adopted Boss-Kitty from. It's called Project Halo, and it's in Charlotte, NC.  Anyhoo, I read this and felt like posting it here on Stimpys site. I also got rid of the tagboard, it was just a place for annoying spam and that was making me angry. Anyhoo, enjoy these lovely words;

My Job is to Assist God's Creatures

My job is to assist God's creatures
I was born with the drive to fulfill their needs
I take in helpless, unwanted, homeless creatures without planning or selection
I have bought dog food with my last dime
I have patted a mangy head by hand
I have hugged someone vicious and afraid
I have fallen in love a thousand times
And I have cried into the fur of a lifeless body too many times to count
I have animal friends and friends who have animal friends
I don't often use the word "pet"
I notice those lost at the roadside and my heart aches
I know of no creature unworthy of my time
I want to live forever if there aren't animals in heaven, but I believe there are
Why would God make something so perfect and leave it behind?
Some may think we are masters of the animals, but the animals have mastered themselves
Something people still haven't learned...
War and abuse make me hurt for the world
But a rescue that makes the news gives me hope for mankind
We are a quiet but determined army
And we are making a difference everyday
There is nothing more necessary than warming an orphan
Nothing more rewarding than saving a life
No higher recognition than watching them thrive
There is no greater joy than seeing a baby play who only days ago, was too weak to eat
By the love of those who I've been privileged to rescue,
I have been rescued
I know what true, unconditional love really is
For I've seen it shining in the eyes of so many grateful for so little
I am an Animal Rescuer
My work is never done,
My home is never quiet
My wallet is always empty
But my heart is always full.

Written from the heart by:
Annette King-Tucker
Wild Heart Ranch Wildlife Rescue
Claremore, Ok

Hi Everyone, It's been such a long time since I've been here. I was really pissed when I saw that Stimpy's tag board had been a breeding ground for 'spam' comments. How dare anyone use my Stimpy's site for that crap. This is a sacred place to me. Anyways, as I was saying, I haven't been here in a very long time. I've tried to continue with Stimpy's memoirs since his passing, but it's just too hard for me.  For the time being, I cannot continue writing on behalf of my special little man. Maybe one day I will be able to carry on his memoirs through his sister Smeagol, his brother Bullitt, or even just through me, but I am nowhere near that point in my life yet. I miss Stimpy every day, my life feels so empty without him. I am still feeling horrible guilt over Stimpy's passing, and it's something I don't know if I will ever get over. I cry over him often, and can't imagine a time when these tears will stop. I hope to return to this place one day, and continue with Stimpy's memoirs. Until then, I will leave this page as a shrine to Stimpy, my beautiful friend. I will still be around and eventually will continue with my own journal when the time is right. You'll still all catch me from time to time leaving posts and tags for all my bravejournal pals. Take care everyone, Your friend, Amy

My Mum and Dad came to Charlotte NC to pick me up. That's where I'm from. They drove 5 hours to get me, and as soon as I met my Dad, I hissed at him. I was scared because I was in a room filled with strange cats that I had never met before. Mum didn't like my name, so she decided to call me 'Clawdius'. It really suited me, but it never stuck. When Mum brought me home, she wanted me to feel as comfortable as possible so they kept calling me Boss so I would have something familiar to hold onto. They started trying to 'wean' me off the name Boss-Kitty, and started calling me Boss-Clawdius. Then that became Boss-Clawd, then back to Boss Kitty again. Mum thinks Boss is kind of a stupid name really, but not if you put it in the funkadelic sense; ie- "That's a totally boss cat you have there, dude."  You understand what I'm saying? So I consider my name 'Boss' to be more of an adjective than a noun, meaning a jerk that tells you what to do. Enough said about my name.

 

So anyways, I loved my new Mum right from the start. She looked at me with stars in her eyes. She was lovely, and I was smitten. When she brought me to my new home, she put me in my very own bedroom with lace curtains and fresh sheets on the bed. I had fresh expensive litter to poop in and wonderful cat food to eat. I also had a lot of new animals to get used to in the house, which I wasn't so crazy about.

 

For the first few weeks, I was kept isolated in my bedroom. I slept most of the day, and Mum would come in several times a day to give me lots of love and special treats. We got to know each other very well, very quickly. I wasn't allowed out into the rest of the house because I showed agression towards the other cats. I was scared,  confused, and had a chip on my shoulder, being the new cat and all. I had something to prove after all, I couldn't let these other cats push me around!

 

Poor Gritty-Kitty, I attacked him the moment Mum let me out of my room. He was just trying to be my friend. Now when I look back on it, I feel really dreadful about it.  I think if he were still alive, we could have grown into really good friends. I also attacked the hell out of Shalimar; she is a weird, skiddish siamese cat that also lives here. I still pick on her to this day, because she's an easy target.

I learned quickly that I am fussy about other cats. Now with dogs, I seemed to get along with them splendidly.  The first dog I met here was Smeagol. I liked her right away. She played with me and chased me, and in turn let me chase her. She was really cute and very young, just about 5 months old when I met her. Then there was Bullitt; he was the same colour as me, but not half as good looking as I am. He's a bit plump, and terribly strange. I quickly learned that I didn't want much to do with him at all.

 

Now in the background of my new house, there was another man that I had yet to meet. He met me with a wagging tail, and quickly retreated to his usual perch upon the game room couch, near the window.  He was very reclusive, and only came out to see Mum when he was hungry, thirsty, or had to go to the bathroom. Sometimes he would come out just to show her his toy, and she would play with him, but he would tire quickly and retreat to his couch again. I could hear him slurping his butt all day long. Sometimes I'd go peek around the corner to see what all the slurping was about; he would look at me, wag his tail then quickly return back to his rump.

 

I could tell that this fellow was an old man. His eyes were cloudy, his joints were a bit stiff, his fur had turned very grey. I could see behind his old man facade that he had once been a magnificent animal. Firm and sleek, muscular and energetic.  I could also see that there was a bit of mischeif behind those old cataracts of his, and from time to time he would drive Mum and Dad crazy with his sneakiness.  Stimpy rarely if ever came to see me, aside from the first day I met him. He was very kind to me from day one. We never fought, not even a tiff. I had a lot of respect for Stimpy, and he liked me because I brought Mum so much joy. I always thought of Stimpy as being a part of Mum. It's hard to explain, but he was always there in the background, watching over her from a distance. If he heard something, he'd bark. He was too old to act on anything, but he did what he could to protect her and his family. He did a good job. I felt safe with Stimpy around. We all did.

 

The only time that Stimpy wasn't around, I was attacked by the neighbours dogs and they ripped off my tail and my genitals. Yup, you read right. Stimpy and the other dogs were at Critter Sitter while Mum and Dad were away, and the neighbours dogs knew that Stimpy and the others weren't here to protect our home, so those dogs took advantage of the situation and attacked me. I almost died. If Stimpy were here, that never would have happened.  Stimpy, along with Bullitt and Smeagol would have chased those mean dogs away.  I never took Stimpy or the other dogs for granted after that attack.

 

Stimpy liked eating my poo, and he always managed to find my secret stash. I don't know how he did, but he did. Gross. I don't know how dogs can do such disgusting things. I used to watch Stimpy wander around the mountain. I would follow him sometimes, just to keep an eye on him, see where he was going. Sometimes he would see me and bark, as he could only see me as a dark shadow in his failing eyes.  I'd meow, and he'd realize who I was, and he'd turn his head and continue sniffing on his trail. He never chased me, nor the other cats. He was always gentle and kind, and I had great respect for him.

 

The house feels so quiet and unprotected without him here. It will take a very long time for all of us to find our new roles in the family. Bullitt is trying, but he just doesn't have the strength, presence or respect to be the alpha male in the house. Smeagol is a long way off from such a position. Other than Bullitt, I am the eldest in the house, but I'm not ready for a position of that kind of authority. Stimpy is irriplaceable. Our family is truly lost and so confused without him here.

 

He has left a warm place on the couch, and I often can be found laying nearby. 

 

 

Until next time,

 

Boss-Kitty

Our good friend Sevy here at bravejournal asked me where I got the name 'Stimpy' from.  I know that some of you of course are familiar with the 'original Stimpy' but for those of you who aren't, this is for you.

Stimpy is a cartoon cat from the show, Ren and Stimpy. Ren is a chihuahua, Stimpy is a large, stupid cat with a tongue that hangs out of his mouth all the time, and he actually looks more like a giant thumb than a real cat. Here is a photo of Stimpy the cat.

I know it was strange to name my dog after Stimpy the cat, but Ren and Stimpy were all the rage back then and my Stimpy had such a huge tongue that I just felt that it suited him. However I already had his name picked out before I even saw him!

So today, Smeagol has something to say about her big brother Stimpy. Smeagol is still just a baby so she's not as literate as her brothers.

Hi there, it's me, Bullitt. Don't think that my Mum can't spell, I wasn't named 'Bullet' like the thing that flies out of a gun; I was named 'Bullitt' after one of Mum's all time favourite actors, Steve McQueen. Anyhoo, I knew Stimpy for 7 years. Mum always felt that I didn't care much for Stimpy at all...but that couldn't be further from the truth. I just never really paid that much attention to him. I was always too busy with Mum or Dad to really care about what the other pets in the house were doing. I wish now that I had spent a little more time with him and not taken him for granted.

 

 Here is the story of my first recollection of Stimpy;

 

It was February of 1999 that my Mum found me in an ad in the Brantford Expositor. She drove all the way to Newmarket to get me. I remember very little about where I came from, except that I lived in a closed box for the first few weeks of my life (I think that has something to do with the fact that I've always been a bit strange). I remember my birth father, his name was Rocky and he tried to eat me. What a jerk. I remember my birth mother...barely. She was a nice looking Boston Terrier, but I can't remember her name. She took good care of me and I remember Mum having a nice chat with her before we left the house. Mum reassured her that I would be well taken care of, spoiled rotten even. Of course, Mum kept her word.

 

Mum tells me that I freaked her out when she put me in the car; as soon as we got into the car, I guess I started wiggling around and acting very strangely indeed. She says I was doing 'the funky chicken' whatever that means. Mum almost took me back to where I came from, back to 'the box', thinking that I was mentally retarded or something. Fortunately she realized that I was just very strange and  brought me back to Brantford with her anyways.

 

Mum carried me in her purse to the house, and I remember I saw my Dad open the back door to let these two large dogs outside. I remember thinking that I was glad that they were outside so I could be safe inside. However, instead of taking me into the safety and warmth of the house, Mum passed by the back door and brought me directly into the backyard. I didn't know Mum very well at that point, but she seemed very nice and gentle and I had a feeling that she wouldn't have brought me 4 hours from my shut-in lifestyle just to feed me to two large dogs...so I trusted what she was doing. She reached into the purse and grabbed ahold of my fat little body. Before I could even check out my surroundings, I had this giant snout in my face. I was a little nervous at first, but Mum kept saying, "Stimpy, be nice...BE NICE..." He seemed to be listening to her, thank goodness. Stimpy sniffed me vigourously...sneezing on me many MANY times (I smelled really bad and I think my stank was upsetting him...keep in mind, I DID live in a box for at least 4 weeks, and that box SMELLED REALLY BAD).

 

After Stimpy's initial 'spraying of the sneeze' greeting, I felt very much at ease. I remember thinking what a handsome fellow he was, and I could tell by the frantic wagging of his long curly tail that he was a fine gentleman indeed. He was so friendly and warm. He kept sneezing on me though, which after a while made me grumble a bit. I was soaking wet!! Stimpy thought that was funny and he started to paw and whine at me, so Mum put me down on the grass and watched carefully to make sure everything went ok. I remember standing in front of Stimpy, me being around 5 pounds, Stimpy outweighing me 9 fold...He looked HUGE to me! However, I wasn't afraid, and I immediately put my bum in the air, stretched my front paws straight out, and let him know that I was ready to play!  Stimpy liked that, and he did the same thing....put his paws straight out, stuck his butt in the air, barked a couple of times and then ran mad circles around me. What a funny guy! I immediately felt so safe with him at my side, and I knew I was going to like being Stimpy's new little brother. He told me to stick with him; he'd show me the ropes, and everything would be fine. 

 

When it came time for me to meet Louie, I was a bit nervous. Louie was a behemeth. He was 92 pounds, and was quite intimidating to little baby me. When my Dad brought Louie over, Stimpy growled at him as if to say, "BE GENTLE YOU BIG PIG!" Louie stared at Stimpy for a moment and wagged his tail as if to say, "Oh Stimpy, you're so funny!"  Stimpy kept a close eye on the situation, while still sniffing me all over.  Mum and Dad held onto Louie's collar while he moved in for a good sniff. Fortunately his tail was wagging, however I still felt a tad aprehensive. As soon as Louie started sniffing me, he began frothing at the mouth. I didn't realize how stinky I was until I smelled how good Louie and Stimpy smelled...and believe me, Louie smelled REALLY REALLY bad so for me to say that I smelled worse than Louie, is really saying something.

 

Louie started frothing at the mouth and I guess in his pea-brain he decided, "Bad stinky puppy...must get rid of it." So Louie proceeded to try to eat me, in one big gulp. It turns out that this was a natural reaction for Louie....if he didn't understand it, he tried to eat it. This happened many times before my arrival, and many times afterwards. Don't get me wrong, Louie didn't have a mean bone in his body...to him, I was the same thing as a lump of poop or a peice of steak. He didn't know the difference, and he didn't know any better.

 

So as soon as Louie tried to eat me, Stimpy jumped on him so fast that I barely even saw Louies jaws reach for me.  Louie let out a big yelp and Stimpy chased him across the yard, snapping his jaws at Louies nub-like tail. Moments later, Louie forgot what happened and decided that 'angry Stimpy' was cute (as Louie often reacted when Stimpy got mad), and he started playing with Stimpy again. Eventually Louie came back to me and started all over again; He sniffed me, started frothing at the mouth, tried to eat me...then Stimpy chased him away again, then he came back...It went on like this for about an hour...Finally Mum decided to give me a bath, hoping that if I smelled better, Louie wouldn't try to eat me anymore.

 

So Mum gave me a bath, and Stimpy helped. He was so curious and excited to see a new little puppy in the house that he stuck really close to me for the first few days I was there. He made sure that Louie didn't eat me. I am very grateful for that indeed.

 

After my bath, Louie was ok. He stopped trying to eat me and all was well from that point on.  After a few days, Stimpy and Louie realized that I was more of a 'people' dog than a 'dogs dog', and they didn't bother with me too much. I prefered to be with Mum, and if I did interact with Stimpy or Louie it was just to attack Louie to put him in his place, or to negotiate with Stimpy over our bones....you see, Mum would buy us these beef bones that would last for months and we shared them all. However I would always want the bone that Stimpy or Louie had, so Stimpy and I would negotiate...I would let him lick my face if he would give me his bone.  I'll never understand why Stimpy liked to lick my face, but he did. He also licked Louie's face, and when Louie would tell him to stop, Stimpy would growl at him. Poor Lou, he really took a beating from Stimpy and I.

So you see, even though Stimpy and I rarely interacted with one another, we were brothers and I loved him. He liked to lick my face because he liked me. I let him lick my face because I liked him.  He stopped doing that after Louie died...Stimpy stopped doing a lot of things after Louie died; that's when I decided to just leave Stimpy alone. He was getting so old...if he had a bone, I wanted him to have it, so I didn't bother trying to take it from him. I had so much respect for my brother Stimpy. He taught me so many things. He's been with me for my entire life (minus the 8 weeks I lived in a box), and it's very hard for me to be without him now.

 

I'm the big boy in the house now. That's strange for me because I've always been the baby. Mum hates that I'm the oldest now, she has a real problem with that. Smeagol is the baby now, and she follows me everywhere. She is so annoying. She worshipped Stimpy...she used to follow him around, tried to get him to play..she thought Stimpy was so funny! Smeagol is only 2 so she doesn't really understand what has happened to Stimpy, even though Mum has explained it to her. I know what's happened...I don't really understand it, but Mum says that I will see Louie and Stimpy again someday, so we have to be strong until then. So as I said, I'm the big boy now...where Stimpy used to protect Mum, that's my job now. Where Stimpy used to bark when he heard a sound outside, that is also my job now. I have to be a lot more alert and in tune to my surroundings now that Stimpy isn't here to take care of us.

 

It's a heavy burden to carry, but Stimpy has trained me well. I'm up for the job.

 

I love Stimpy and miss him very much. I know that's probably a big shock to Mum, but it's true. She knows I miss him because since Stimpy passed away, I keep pooping on the floor. I don't know how else to express myself, so that's going to have to do for now. Maybe once I start writing in Stimpy's journal on a regular basis, that can be my outlet rather than pooping on the floor. I think Mum would like that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Thankyou...thankyou very much."

Hehe...no, he wasn't growling...Stimpy's plump little lips used to get stuck up under his teeth from time to time.  He liked to pretend he was Elvis. He couldn't sing like Elvis though...he barked a lot, but that's about it.

So anyhoo, here is my first 'guest post' at Stimpys journal. It's written by my best non-furry friend, Tonia.  Tonia wasn't a dog person at all when she met Stimpy (she had a wonderful cat named Willy at the time, who was my very dear friend!). It's funny, I notice that people get stuck in the mindset as either a 'dog person' or a 'cat person'. I used to refuse to like cats, much in the same way that a 'cat person' refuses to like dogs. I've always liked cats, but I refused to say that I did!! Isn't that funny!? It wasn't until I moved down here and became friends with a stray cat that I stopped referring to myself as a dog person, and started calling myself 'an animal lover'. So anyways, here is Tonia's story about her first impression of Stimpy and how she put aside her mindset as a 'cat person' and let Stimpy into her heart...

 

I was never a dog person.  I always had a cat.  I was bitten by a dog when I was younger and felt a little scared and intimidated around dogs after that.  So, naturally I was a little apprehensive when Amy called me to tell me that she had bought a dog and was going to bring him over.  She assured me that he was just a puppy and everything would be fine.

At that time, I was 6 months pregnant with Chelsea, living in a haunted house(yes it's true and you can read the story on Amy's website), with my boyfriend and my cat Willy.  I was so worried that this new dog would pee all over my place or attack my cat.  But that was the least of my problems.

When they first got to my place, all I could do was stare at this odd combination of a dog.  A what? A pitbull/pug? How the hell did that happen?  We laughed about that for a bit and I remember thinking "this dog is so ugly, it's cute!"  It was funny to watch Stimpy frolic around the living room.  He tried to become friends with Willy, but that cat would have nothing to do with Stimpy.  I'm pretty sure Willy took a swat at the puppy and Stimpy learned not to go near him again.  But that didn't stop him from going near Willy's things.

Stimpy set off exploring for a bit.  It wasn't a big apartment so we weren't concerned that he would get into any trouble.  We should have thought again.  When Stimpy decided to come back, wow, the stench that came with that little man was unbelievable.  We quickly realized that Stimpy had been helping himself to some snacks from Willy's litterbox.  We got some toothpaste and tried to get rid of the smell in his mouth.  But I think at that point everyone was pretty grossed out and Amy decided to take her poo-loving dog home.

I can't say that I was impressed with Stimpy when I first met him.  I tolerated him for the first little while.  I think I just didn't want to allow myself to like dogs.  But eventually, Stimpy found his way to my heart and I couldn't help but fall in love with the best dog I ever met!

Thanks for taking the time to write about my Stimpy Tonia. It makes me happy to know that Stimpy won you over in the end.

Go visit Tonia's journal, if you haven't already done so!

This is one of the very first photos I ever took of Stimpy. He was about a year old here. I didn't have a camera back then so there are no photos of him as a baby. I really wish there was. Anyhoo, I know I have more photos of him, I think I may have some where he is as young as just a few months old.  I am going to go searching for them this week, and I'll post them when I find them. Stimpy was SO weird looking as a baby...he definitely improved with age!   I moved out of my parents house on December 1st, 1992. I found a nice, cheap one bedroom apartment on the other side of town in an area of Brantford that before then, I never even knew existed. It didn't take me a week of living there to realize that I had just moved into a really assy neighbourhood. A week after I moved in, my boyfriend dropped me off around midnight and I walked in the back door of the apartment building, and there was a half dead guy laying in the stairwell. He was bleeding profusely and a cop was there, telling him to hold on. I stepped over him and ran to my apartment, scrambling for my keys. I entered my dark apartment and ran around turning all the lights on. I flopped on my bed and cried. What kind of building had I just moved in to?   From that moment on, every time my boyfriend would drop me off at night, he would walk me up to my apartment and wait for me to check all the rooms to make sure that no weirdo had broken in while I had been out. I slept on my couch with the TV and lights on every night. I didn't sleep well at all.  I remember one night I woke up with some weirdo guy banging on my door and making obscene gestures with his tongue via the peephole. Another night some idiot banged on my door for twenty minutes screaming how he loved me...only to discover that he had the wrong door. Then he crawled to the next door and went on with the same scene.   I was a wreck! I couldn't afford to move, and I was too proud to move back in with my parents. That's when I decided that I needed a room mate. Not a human room mate, but a fluffy one that could bark and scare people away.   My family had a Schnauzer, Dudley. He was a fabulous silvery fellow, with a thick grey beard and shiny black eyes. Being that I grew up with such a fluffy little guy, I of course went looking for something very Schnauzer-like for myself, as it was all I knew. I actually wanted a Westhighland White Terrier, but I couldn't afford a purebred dog of any kind. I was making a fairly good living as a waitress at the time, but I certainly couldn't afford an $800 dog. I realized that the local dog pound was the way to go. The first day that I went to the local dog pound, I found a pretty little Shih-Tzu with a bad eye. I wanted him desperately. The animal control officer told me that he would be up for adoption in 3 days, as they have to wait 3 days after bringing a dog in to allow their owner time to claim their pet. If 3 days go by and no owner shows up, then the dog is put up for adoption. So the animal control officer assured me that it was first come first serve, and if I came back in 3 days and was first in line, then I'd get that dog.    So I went out, bought a little dog bed and made some doggie dishes with the name 'STIMPY' on them. I set my apartment up to accomodate this little Shih-Tzu and waited patiently for those 3 days to be up. Finally the third day came;  I woke up early and drove to the Animal shelter. I was the first one there. I got there at 8am, and the doors opened at 10. I knew that 'Stimpy' was as good as mine! So at 10 o'clock on the nose, the animal shelter worker showed up. Behind her, a mini van came rolling in with some middle aged woman in it.  The animal control officer opened the door, and I happily stepped inside. The mini-van lady came in behind me, about two seconds later.   "I'm here for the Shih-Tzu!" I said, excitedly. The animal control officer looked me up and down; keep in mind, I was 19 years old and looked like I was 13.  The animal control officer scrunched her face dissaprovingly and turned her gaze to the mini-van lady behind me. "Is anyone else here for the Shih-Tzu?" The animal control officer asked. Of course, the woman behind me said, "Yes, I saw him yesterday and came back this morning to adopt him." "I was here first..." I said, trying not to sound childish. I was getting concerned. "I was told that it was first come first serve." "Well, you'll both have to fill out applications and then we'll decide from there who we feel should get the dog."  I knew right away that this ugly, hairy nasty animal control officer was not going to give that dog to little tiny 19 year old me. I looked like a sweet little girl and I could tell right away that this animal control woman would have rather eaten that Shih-Tzu than give it to me. Not because I was incompetent, but because I was young.  They didn't even ask my age, occupation, address, etc. on that application. I could have been the wife of a veterinarian and a seasoned dog trainer and they would never have known it. After filling out the 'application' (name, address, phone number) They decided of course that the Shih-Tzu would be better off with this second in line lady than with me. It was total discrimination. I was heartbroken. I cried and cried in that office and the stupid officer said to me, "There are plenty of other dogs in the back that are available for you to adopt." And I said..."WELL WHY AM I GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR THE SHIH-TZU??" Good point eh? That totally proved to me that they just didn't like me because of my appearance; some people are discriminated against for being too old or ugly, I was discriminated against for just the opposite! Even recalling the memory now just makes me so angry.   I was heartbroken. I came home and saw 'Stimpy's' dishes sitting there, filled with food and I had no Stimpy to eat from them. I cried and cried; not just because I didn't get the dog, but because I had been treated so unfairly. I never forgot that feeling of total discrimination. I know now that happened for a reason....because of that animal shelter workers bad attitude and unfairness towards me, I was brought to the real Stimpy...   It was the following day that I went out to this little pet store just down the road from this assy apartment complex that I was living in. My boyfriend and his brother came with me. I can't remember the name of the store offhand, but it wasn't in business for very long at all. Now that I'm older and I know better, I would NEVER buy a dog from a pet store. However as I mentioned above, I tried to adopt a dog from a shelter, and look how that worked out...but I digress...   So I went into this little store just a few days before my birthday. I wanted to get a dog damnit, and I was going to get one for my birthday. I walked into this pet store, and they only had one little dog there. He was behind glass and I think he was chewing something when I first saw him. He was weird looking. I mean really weird. He was not a fluffy little bunny-like dog at all. He was certainly no Westie or Shih-Tzu. I didn't know what he was.   "He's a pitbull/pug." Said this big biker guy behind the counter, as if he could read my mind. "A what?" I said, as I squinted my eyes and leaned in for a closer look at the puppy. "He's a Pitbull/Pug. His name is 'Hootch'. His brother and Sister, 'Pebbles and Bam-Bam' are for sale at the mall. They're charging double what I'm charging for this guy. We've had him a while. If no one takes him, my family is going to. He's a great little dog, he loves pizza and beer."   I immediately thought, 'there is no way that dog is coming home with me.' He was nothing like what I was looking for at all. Somehow, my boyfriends brother got this bug eyed little monster out of his cage behind the glass and was playing with him. He was a very friendly puppy indeed. He wouldn't stop licking my boyfriend and his brother. I petted him and decided that he was kind of cute, in his own little way.   His head was completely black, and his body was a deep orange/brown brindle colour. The more I looked at him, the more I realized just how neat his coat was. My boyfriend and his brother immediately started trying to convince me to buy him. He was $150. I only had half that.  My boyfriend convinced me that this was the dog for me, as he would grow up to look kind of mean, and that's the kind of muscle I needed while I was living on my own. He would provide companionship as well as protection, which a Shih-Tzu certainly couldn't really do for me.  I reluctantly gave in, and brought the new 'Stimpy' to my home.   Well, that's the jist of it. I hate to say it, but it certainly wasn't 'love at first sight' for me and Stimpy.  I had never owned my own dog before, so it took a very long time before I got the hang of things with Stimpy. Stimpy was a HORRIBLE puppy. He was so destructive and agressive, I didn't know how to deal with him at all!  I'd say it was a good 6 months before I felt completely comfortable being a dog owner, and it was probably 6 months before I really fell in love with Stimpy. Stimpy taught me so many things about dogs, and about myself. If I hadn't met him, I wouldn't be the animal lover that I am today. Stimpy changed my life and I owe so much to him.         For this next week, my whole family will be writing their own journal entry's here. They will be telling their own stories about how they came about meeting Stimpy, and what their first impression of him was etc.

Wow, journal of the week....if Stimpy were here, I know he would have been typing away on this computer every day making sure there was a new and exciting post awaiting all these wonderful new readers. Unfortunately Stimpy is no longer here, so I'm trying to figure out where to go from here, without my special guy.

What a wonderful honour it is to win Journal of the week. It truly is a fitting tribute to my wonderful boy. I don't know how he did it...We never even once thought about Journal of the week, because I never dreamed he would get it!

I'm not sure how one goes about getting this award, but thankyou to whoever gave it to my Stimpy.  I think someone nominated him, but I'm not sure. If someone nominated him, whoever that was, thankyou so much for doing that. I am truly honoured.

I know that a lot of you visit my good friend Tonia's journal. Tonia called me this past weekend and told me to go check out her journal to see what I think...well, I was surprised to find that she had designed a bunch of shirts and other items dedicated to my Stimpy. Tonia wanted to do something in Stimpy's honour to help raise money so I can start my own animal shelter down here. I've been trying to help the animals down here for so long, but I havent had the funds to build kennels, get dog houses, blankets, dishes etc. So Tonia did this for me, in Stimpy's memory. 

 I couldn't think of a more fitting tribute to my little man. I'm going to buy a shirt with my Stimpy on it, maybe a mug, along with some other things. I think that Stimpy would very much like this idea. He went through life thinking he was a bit 'oogly'...but now on Tonia's shirt it says, "Don't hate me because I'm different, Love me because I'm unique!" And then on the back it says, "Adopt a mixed Breed."  I love it and I can't wait to get one of my own. They come in all different styles and sizes. Thanks again Tonia, Stimpy loved you as much as you loved him. I'm glad you got to see him one last time before he passed away. I know he enjoyed licking his butt on your bed.

I can see that so many new people have stopped by Stimpy's journal this week to congratulate us on the JOTW award. I hope that all of you come back really soon, as I will be continuing with Stimpy's journal again shortly; next week at the latest. When Stimpy won JOTW I realized that a lot of people enjoyed reading Stimpys memoirs, and felt that his little space here on Bravenet was an important one indeed. Stimpy had a lot to say, and as long as there are people who want to  read the 'Memoirs of an Old Dog' then I will make sure that I continue with Stimpys journal, in his honour.

Right now we are arguing about who continues with Stimpy's journal...Bullitt of course is the man of the house now, so he feels that he should be the one to continue with it. Smeagol misses Stimpy so desperately..she wants to continue writing in his honour. I myself may continue to post for Stimpy, as I will remain the most unbiased.  I don't dare even ask the cats, they're all a bit narcissistic.  Maybe the answer is to have Smeagol, Bullitt, and myself write upon Stimpy's behalf, that way we're all happy.

Regardless of who is going to continue with Stimpy's memoirs, please keep checking back as we'll have things up and running again in just a few days.

Hello everyone,

I notice that the wonderful outpouring of love from all of you has exceeded Stimpys allowed daily bandwith here at Bravejournal. His pictures will be back after midnight tonight. I will never take them down.

These past 2 days have been 2 of the most difficult days of my life. When I woke up this morning I actually thought for a moment that I had just had a terrible nightmare...but then I realized that Stimpy wasn't in his bed beside me and I knew that it was no dream, my Stimpy was indeed gone.

I will be taking some time away from the computer. I have so many things to think about, and I have to put this all into perspective. I have to figure out how I am going to begin to move on without my best friend in the world. 

Stimpy has been with me for 13 years. 13 wonderful years. The pain of losing Stimpy will never overshadow the sheer joy of being a part of his life. I have SO many memories of him. All of them are good of course, even the memories of him being a bad boy. I smile when I think of him eating my underwear and then barfing it up hours later...I smile when I think of him eating my couch. I laugh when I think of him getting amorous with the neighbours cat.  The tears won't stop, even when I am smiling...right now, thinking about Stimpy at all is causing so much sorrow. I know that this will all cease once the shock wears off. Then I will be able to heal, and slowly move on.

His spot on the couch seems so dark and empty now. I sit there and long to hear the slurping sound of him licking his butt. Things that used to drive me nuts....I would now do anything to have back again.

Stimpy was a unique individual. I felt that we had a bond unlike any other. Stimpy wasn't my lap dog, actually he rarely came to see me at all as he got older. After Louie died, Stimpy became a recluse, and only came to me when he needed something. I gave him everything he ever needed, and everything he ever wanted. Now, at long last, he is with his dear Louie. I can picture them in my head now...laying in the grass in some beautiful shangri-la, soaking up the sun and waiting very patiently for the day when we will all be united again.

I will never forget Stimpy. I will never get over his passing, but my family and I have to put this grief in it's place and then we will be able to move on...slowly.  I have to learn how to live with Stimpy as just a memory, and not as my fluffy little man sitting on the couch making bad smells.

I'm not sure what I am going to do with Stimpys journal as of yet, that is something I will think on during my hiatus from the computer.

I don't know how to thank you all...your kind words during this very difficult time have made everything a bit easier. Just knowing that Stimpy touched all of your lives has warmed my heart.  To read about how you were all moved by word of his passing brought a tear to my eye. I'm so pleased that Stimpy's journal touched you all so deeply.

That was the reason Stimpy and I started his journal, we wanted to have other people get to know him in the same way that I knew him...we wanted to make sure that when Stimpy did pass on, that he would leave a legacy behind. I'm not sure what that legacy is, but at least he won't soon be forgotten by anyone. Even if it's simply as one of you are walking in the park one day and come up to a strange looking dog and the owner tells you that it's a poodle/shar pei mix....and you say, "OH that's nothing. I knew this dog...Stimpy...he was a pitbull pug!"  Just that alone makes me happy. To know that Stimpy left an impression on you all.

Thankyou so much to all of my kind and wonderful friends here at Bravejournal for your tributes, memorials, thoughts, prayers and kind words to Stimpy, my family and myself. We will never forget your friendship and kindness.