Haus von Stone Zauberberg
August 9, 1998 – February 13, 2010
Stone died on February 13, 2010. Stone began vomiting late afternoon on Friday the 12th. Thinking that it was just an upset stomach from the Duramax anti-inflammatory medication that he was on, he stayed home with Doyle (a very rare occurrence) while I went to work on Saturday. After vomiting several more times and becoming extremely lethargic, Doyle and I took him to an emergency facility. It was diagnosed and confirmed during surgery that he had cancerous tumors on his spleen and liver, one of which had hemorrhaged and was the source of his vomiting and uncommon behavior. We laid Stone to rest in his bed (he loved that bed) with a selection of his favorite toys.
We can’t ask you to understand our grief, Stone wasn’t a backyard pet, he was a 24 / 7 companion to me. He certainly will be missed by all that knew him.
If you have ever been to C Stone Industries you have certainly been greeted or more likely sniffed by Haus von Stone Zauberberg, ok, Stone. A pure breed Rottweiler, Stone is the meet-n-greet fixture at my stone yard.
My bond with Stone began with an adoption. Most animal adoptions are carefully thought out: A person or family makes a decision to adopt a pet; goes to an adoption center; and chooses a dog or cat they most like. That didn’t happen here. In late July 1999, while I was working at my family’s stone yard next to my present location, a big black dog wondered in off the street. Hot and thirsty, two employees and I hosed him down to cool him off and gave him a drink. This ‘big black dog’ had a blue nylon collar on but no registration tags. Unable to identify the owner, and thinking he was a neighborhood dog, we coaxed him out the side-street gate at closing time, assuming he would find his way back home. Well he found his way home, sort of.
The next morning, while opening the yard at that same side-street gate (a dual rolling chain link gate loosely chained and padlocked in the center), I discovered that the gate had been pushed open and separated much like opening a scissors. Assuming that someone had broken in and stolen some stone, I was flabbergasted to find that big black dog had ‘busted in’. For nearly three weeks that very pushy dog hung around. Although I expected him to wander back out the gate and back to his home, for nearly three weeks I and ol’ pushy began to bond. After three weeks I was encouraged by Doyle to “make him your dog” or try to find the owner via an ID chip that is sometimes inserted under a dog’s skin between the shoulder blades. An appointment was made with a veterinarian that had the ability to scan for a chip and to update vaccinations for the purpose of registration. OK, this is where Stone’s story picks up speed. The day of the appointment it was discovered that the ‘big black dog’ did have an ID chip, and the owner wanted him back. This came at a bit of a surprise since for the past three weeks everyone who had seen the ‘big black dog’ was convinced that the dog’s owner had dumped him on the street because: a) He was an old hip displacer dog, b) The owner did not want to pay the $75 city registration fee for an unneutered dog, or both.
Well, that “old dog” wound up being only eleven months old and sired by a schutzhund champion from an internationally known kennel. Without making this short bio into a novel: After having Stone back for ten days, the owner gave Stone to me only requesting that I give him a good home.
There are so many stories I have of Stone, and so many memories. If you ever get bored ask me about some and I will share.
