Adventures in Extreme Parenthood: All dogs are angels with fur

Moosie 'Bubba' McKain 1994-2009

My best friend Becky and her family had to say goodbye today to their beloved Moosie, a 15 year old Jack Russell Terrier they lovingly referred to as Bubba. Little Moosie had been sick for quite some time with failing liver function and so they knew that his time left would be shorter than they wanted.

But, are we ever prepared for the day when we will have to say goodbye to our furry faithful friends?

I've never been.

I grew up in a 'Dog Family". We were lovers of all things furry but we only chose to live with dogs. In my humble opinion cats are too finicky. You walk in the door and they might saunter by and lift their head in your general direction. However, in stark comparison, a dog will come running from the deep, dark recesses of the house at such a rate of speed that they can become momentarily airborne gliding along the foyer rug and run smack dab into you with gleeful excitement. You can almost hear their brains whirling like a hummingbird thinking,

"She's home, she's home.... whatcha got? what'd'ya bring me? You smell good, did you have bacon on your sanwdwich for lunch? Did you bring me any? No? Oh well, who cares.....I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!"

Our dogs were never our pets. They were a bona-fide member of the family. My family's first dog was what my dad called a 'Heinz 57'. Snoopy was about 12 different types of dog all rolled together into the most loving mutt around. My mother adopted her from the local shelter when my dad was gone for long hours working full time and finishing his PhD in nuclear physics. They had been trying to get pregnant for a number of years and having been unsuccessful my mom decided she needed someone to keep her company, someone to love on.

She picked Snoopy.

Apparently it was a good choice because a few short months later my mother became pregnant and later gave birth to my older sister, Caryn. It seems that having a doggie to care for and love was just what my parents had been needing. They both were more relaxed, less stressed about school and work and instead focused on each other and looking forward to coming home each day to play with Snoopy.

Mom with Snoopy 1971

The Snoopy I grew up with looked much different from her early puppy years. Her hair grew long and turned white with age. She could always be found wherever my dad was. He lit up her world and if you asked my Dad he would tell you she did the same for him. Dad fed her from the table, gave her popcorn when we watched movies at night, and even let her lick the beaters from our old-fashioned ice cream maker. I was convinced that is reincarnation were real I would want nothing more than to come back as my Dad's dog when I died. It would be a plush life to say the least! Snoopy lived to be 19 years old. Her last year saw a rapid decline in her energy and ability to both see and hear. It was her time. However, next to my mother's death it was one of the very hardest moments of my life when I watched my dad dig her grave in the back yard with tears streaming down his face. He wrapped her in her favorite afghan and then took of his own T-shirt he had been wearing and made her a little pillow to rest her head on. To this day my Dad will still tear up when he speaks of his beloved Snoopy.

Family Photograph 1979

Celebrating Snoopy's 13th Birthday
(Anniversary of her adoption date)

I honestly never thought my parents would get a new dog. After the loss of Snoopy I couldn't imagine they would be able to endure that sort of pain again, but then they would also have missed out on the great joy that was Teddy and all he brought to our family.
Teddy was a Pomeranian and Poodle mix. He was also the first and only male dog our family ever had. I think male dogs get a bad rap. Some say a male dog is aggressive and prone to doing his business on your furniture and draperies. We never had any such problems with Teddy.

Mom and Teddy 1988-ish

What we did have an issue with was ankle biting. I am sure I still have scars on my ankles from Teddy as a puppy. As you can see in the picture below his aging did not diminish his desire to sink his canines into the fleshy part of your ankle whenever the opportunity arose.

Me "playing" in the snow with Teddy 1991

My parents separated during the summer of 1990. My younger sister and I along with my mom moved to the mountains of Estes Park, Colorado. Teddy came with us because of my Dad's busy work and travel schedule. Dad would come and visit as often as he could and was there for most all of the holidays. Teddy loved it when Dad came to visit. He did all the same things with Teddy he had done with Snoopy. Feeding him from the table, popcorn during movies, and lots of belly rubs.

Sadly, Teddy developed pancreatitis when he was 7 and his health quickly deteriorated. My Mom took him to numerous vets for their medical opinions on what was causing his problems and finally she was referred to the teaching hospital at Colorado State University where it was discovered all his major organs were shutting down one by one. I don't remember ever being told what had caused his rapid decline. Then again, I don't think I really wanted to know. All I knew was that our dog had died. Again.

That was it for me. I swore I would NEVER own another dog as long as I lived. It was just too painful. Too heart-wrenching to let them go.

Then I met Billy.

Bill and I dated off and on through high school. The relationship didn't last past high school but the sweet doggie he gave me for my 18th birthday did. She was half Chihuahua and half domesticated Dingo and was by far the sweetest, smallest, most wonderful dog I have ever had the pleasure to call my own. She was only 6 weeks old when I got her because her mother had died. I named her Auggie. It was a spunky name.

The perfect fit for my little puppy.

Auggie, 6 weeks old

Auggie slept in my bed under the covers with me every night of our life together. It seems Dingos have a very strong instinct to burrow. She obviously saw my bed as a good place to call her home. We would often find her there during the middle of the day or when I would come home from school. I would walk in my room and hear a muffled 'woof' from the depths of the covers.

She and Teddy were very good friends. Auggie gave Teddy a definite run for his money. My Mom often said Teddy was living out his bad karma from his earlier years of ankle biting by having to live with Auggie who did much of the same to him.

When I moved out of my mom's house into my very first apartment Auggie came with me. She was my constant companion and was my light at the end of a very dark tunnel I had found myself in. I wasn't a very happy person during those late teen years but Auggie loved me unconditionally.

Sadly when I moved out East to Maryland I had to leave my sweet girl with my mom in Colorado. I wasn't sure I would be able to find an apartment that would accept a dog and I thought it best to keep her with my mom who had grown quite attached to her and would have been heartbroken to see her go.

I only saw Auggie one last time after my move. When my mom relocated to Oklahoma Auggie went with her and kept mom company on those lonely evenings when she would come home from work, not knowing a lot of people in the new town, and not really one for the night life or dating in the years since my parent's divorce. Auggie was her companion now and slept at the bottom of her bed and it warmed my heart to know it.

When Auggie was 7 she began to slow down considerably and my mom took her to to the vet where it was quickly determined she had cancer. She hung on like the brave doggie she was for another 6 months and then went on to join all the other doggies we had loved and lost.