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Stohlman's Dogs

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Apparently Al Stohlman knew a thing or two about puppies! :lol:

This was posted by Peter Main on the Al Stohlman FB page, and since they look to be my favourite breed (or a mix thereof!) I decided to share!


Al Stohlman's dogs.jpg

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That's cute

How you doing in your new digs?


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Yep, looks like German Shredders!   My favorite, too!

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Lost my old girl May 31st. :rip_1:  She was 14 1/2 years old but that doesn't make it any easier. First time in 14 1/2 years I've only had one dog, and during those 14 years, I sometimes had 3, all German shedders.

RIP, Star of Hope vom Bayou Land! You were one of the best1




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My sincerest condolences.

Loosing a family member is always devastating.

I have found that reading the poem "Epitaph to a dog" by Lord Byron helps, so I hope that this poem can be a bit of a comfort to you (though it is originally about a Newfoundland dog)


Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
Boatswain, a Dog
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803
and died at Newstead November 18th 1808.[4]

When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth,
Unknown to Glory but upheld by Birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below.
When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his Masters own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour'd falls, unnotic'd all his worth,
Deny'd in heaven the Soul he held on earth.
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.

Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debas'd by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well, must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy heart deceit,
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn,
Pass on, it honours none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one — and here he lies.[5]

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Thanks, Mulesaw, that's beautiful!

Euthanasia is always a hard thing to do. :(

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