Jane: Our dogs Daisy and Boomer have been driving me nuts lately -- especially Daisy, our 20-month-old yellow Labrador retriever. Because it's been so hot and buggy outside, I've avoided the dog park where Boomer and Daisy run off excess energy. Without that outing, they get a little restless . . . and mischievous. Yesterday I watched as Daisy -- my white tornado -- cut a swath of destruction
in our backyard, digging a new dirt hole by our fence, chewing up a patio chair cushion and an umbrella cover, chomping on stray sticks and mulch, chasing flies, trampling ornamental grasses, and devouring a huge, green, juicy catepillar. Betsey: Bon appétit! When I think of your dogs, words like “bumptious” and “galumphing” come to mind -- big, spirited creatures who get all over everything and just love you to pieces. I still remember Daisy knocking a glass off the table with her wagging tail! Dogs just mean so well . . .
Jane: It's funny you mention this, because recently Daisy knocked over a tall glass of Diet Coke, spilling its contents all over our leather sofa and hardwood floor. Yet in the frenzy of wiping up the mess on the floor and the couch and the coffee table, she melted me with those brown eyes . . .
My irritation with these guys never lasts long because I know how short a dog's life truly is. We've lost two dogs to old age and sickness: Bo, our first dog ever, and Buddy, our previous Labrador retriever.
I'll never forget how painful those losses were . . . straight out of Marley & Me.When Bo died on our kitchen floor, I was so grief-stricken my heart went wacky and I had to wear a Holter monitor for 48 hours!
I revisited that grief a few weeks ago when I learned dear friends in Jacksonville lost their yellow Lab, Shey, to a quick-spreading cancer. Then when we returned from our vacation, we discovered neighbors had to put down their sweet Brittany spaniel, Abby. These people are dog people like we are, so I know their hearts are breaking. Shey and Abby were splendid dogs. Beloved dogs. Just as Daisy and Boomer are.
What is it about these wonderful creatures that wraps itself so tightly around our hearts?
Betsey: Oh, Jane. That’s so sad about Bo and Buddy and Abby and Shey -- but, as you say, dogs’ lives are brief compared to ours, and that is the sharp poignancy embedded in the matchless joy we know with our best friends.
As you know, our little Cairn terrier Lucy is fourteen years young and losing her is something that haunts me. The other day she was sleeping on our bed and was just so quiet and I looked at her and said aloud, “I have LOVED spending life with you.”Of course, not long after she got up and started barking at the vacuum cleaner -- so, Lord willing, she will be with us for a good long time yet. In the meantime we’re contemplating taking her on a cross-country vacation. Road trip!
Jane: Oh, Lucy Lou! I love little Lucy -- she's so spunky.
Betsey: No kidding. Amanda and her dog Gracie, who’s black and white and looks like a stuffed toy, stopped by recently. Not, mind you, in the house. I walked Gracie (who was wearing a new pink outfit!) around our front yard a bit and all of a sudden I heard ferocious barking from indoors. Lucy was on HER chair, looking out the front window and sternly ordering, “Get off my lawn!” The funny thing is, she was so energized the rest of the evening, like her Scots blood was stirred by combat. We call her “Little Braveheart.”
Jane: What a hoot!
We have all kinds of pet names for our pets, too. Daisy is “Baby” or “Doodle” or “Dickens” (because she can be a dickens). And sometimes -- I'm embarrassed to admit -- we've even called her our daughter Emily's name by mistake. (Emily insists that's only when Daisy's naughty. I take the Fifth). Our older boy Boomer is “Boom-Boom” or “Booms.” And Rich, of course, is “Mr. Rich,” and the dogs respond with such excitement when I tell them “Mr. Rich is home!” Betsey: Yesterday Fritz called Lucy “Stuart.” Sometimes I call Amanda “Lucy.” Lucy is also “Lucy-Goosey.” We’ve also experimented with seeing if she answers to “Duke” or “Poopsie,” because of the similar sound. Of course she isn’t fooled, because Lucy is uncommonly gifted. I sometimes imagine, when she’s staring at me with those big, soulful eyes, that all of a sudden she’ll say something.
Jane: Isn't it cool when you see your children inherit your passion for animals? I know if circumstances permitted it, Sarah and Emily would own dogs, too. But because Sarah and her husband, Mike, are missionaries who travel overseas, right now it doesn't make sense. And Em's landlord doesn't allow dogs (so she got a cat instead!).
Betsey: It would be awful if your kid didn’t love animals. Truly, I would have a problem with that. Thankfully Amanda absolutely loves animals, dogs especially. She dreams of having a whole herd of them on a big rural property. Stuart, too, is a dog person -- fortunately for him, because what he didn’t know is that
loving dogs is one of our hidden family tests to be let into the “circle of trust,” to quote Meet the Parents.Jane: Ha! I love it! You know, Em once dated a really nice guy who was allergic to dogs. Whenever he was going to visit, I'd furiously attempt to eliminate all traces of the "fur situation" -- no easy task! They're no longer dating . . . and as much as I liked him, I always wondered how a non-dog son-in-law would fit in.
The truth is, dogs are messy, mischievous, and expensive. They tie you down. They interrupt your sleep. They get gassy when guests are over. And let's face it, poop happens! Pee and vomit, too. In fact, last night Rich and I were awakened to the unmistakable sounds of Boomer gagging. A mad dash ensued to get him downstairs and out the back door so he'd barf on grass instead of carpet. We lost that race, by the way. And then there's what I call The Muddy Season -- spring. Muddy footprints don't even begin to describe its horrors!
Yet I feel such a powerful, protective love for
these canine best friends. They're not our kids, but they're definitely our family. And I hope -- silly as it may sound to some -- that one day in heaven Rich and I will see Bo and Buddy and Boomer and Daisy eagerly awaiting us with tails wagging, expecting belly rubs, cuddles, and a game or two of Fetch-it. How could it be heaven without them? I wonder if the depth of feeling we experience for our dogs is an echo of Eden . . .an inkling of how that stewarding relationship between mankind and animals was meant to be.
Life without a dog or two beside me on the journey? No thanks. I'll take the poop, the pee, the vomit, the incessant shedding, and the less-than-perfect house in exchange for their unconditional love and companionship, for antics that make me laugh and affection that melts my heart.
Oops -- looks like they're putting me to the test . . . Daisy's chewing on an area rug, and Boomer has to be let out. Gotta run!
If you had -- or have -- a dog you love, share your dog story with us!
11 comments:
I love your love for your pets, both of you! And, think these beings are a gift of love from God! I have to enjoy others pets and I do. I'm allergic to cats and can have a little trouble with dogs. Some day I can see us having a medium size dog. I know when my kids can they want dogs. God made us to love and to seek love of others including animals.
I carry on two-way conversations with my collie, Kelli; I speak to and for her. I suppose strangers would think this is weird but it seems totally natural to me. She is more like a little girl in a dog costume than an actual canine. I like the response Billy Graham gave years ago when a small boy asked if his dog would be in heaven. "In heaven we will have everything we need for our happiness," Graham replied (or something to that effect. So if we need dogs...!
Thanks for the touching post, Jane and Betsey.
Maggie
OK--So THIS will be OUR little secret about dogs, right? Here's the deal. I just put "our" blue heeler down. He was supposed to be "our" dog, but like every other dog in our 35 years of marriage, he bonded to my husband (and vice versa) and the hub's exciting daily visits to the barns. I, on the other hand, got left by the wayside as the "hired hand" to the dog, feeding it, letting it out of the house, into the house, you know. Sooooo, when Taser (I know, bad name for a dog already genetically coded to be protective) bit someone for the third time---this time very seriously, I had no choice. Hubby didn't give me his blessing, just knew it had to be done and he couldn't do it. "Do it when I don't know about it," he said. One of the hardest things I've ever done.
Fast forward a couple weeks with hubby still in deep mourning and loss for his barn buddy. I know he has a heart for cockers. When our previous dog (a cocker)was killed by a vehicle, he mourned that dog for a year before, relenting, I MADE him get a puppy.
So I thought, "This is ridiculous. Get the man a dog." I found a two-year-old cocker on Craig's List. She looked a lot like our sweet Bailey of years before. Plus she was a "she"--no more dominant male dogs marking territory. Deal done.
Brought her home. Hubby looked at her like she was an alien from another planet and that it'd be disloyal to bond to the dog. Sheez. So WHAT did I do? I MADE myself suck it up and bond to her, fully expecting her, any day now, to become my hubby's barn-companion.
Not.
Hubby still looks at her from a distance. Pets her in bed a little at night (hey, THAT is progress). But that's it. But me? Me? Ah, shoot, I have bonded to this dog! How did THAT happen??? I am sooo not a pet person!
And now I have a little shadow that I just adore! What the heck??!!!!!
Funny thing happened on the way to the adoration-thing! I noticed that I wasn't obsessing quite so much about my kids, grandkids, mother....you know...allllll those mini-crisis of midlife.
"Sadie" as I came to call her was sucking up those worry-juices like some sort of healing-sponge. I knew this could happen. I even wrote about it in my book, Hot Flashes from Heaven. "Get a pet" I recommended to those mourning the empty nest. (Or a hobby, career, garden, girlfriend, whatever.) Never divulging that I pretty much ignored our own pet.
But here I am. And NOW I get it.
As I wrote in my book, Hot Flashes from Heaven, some prestigious study found that petting an animal released oxytocin--the same hormone women experience when nursing babies, being intimate with their husbands. And, baby, I can feel it.
Sadie may have been intended to be my hubby's dog, but it looks like maybe she's wound up my own by default. But am I happy about it? In a Meg-Ryan-Sleepless-in-Seattle I reply breathlessly, "Yes, yes, yes, oh yes!"
http://www.ronnasnyder.com
That's why it seems as though I write more about Daisy . . . all our other dogs really bonded to Rich (they were all males, by the way, in a house full of estrogen--daughters). But Daisy is our first girl dog, and although she adores Rich because he takes them to the dog park, she remains, in many ways, "my girl." In fact, I wrote about this in our "dog blog," http://thewoofgang.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-girl.html. So enjoy Sadie, Ronna! She's one of God's good gifts!
Jane,
Perhaps Daisy ate all that stuff in your back yard because she wanted to switch up her diet from all that fancy soft food you feed her. Who doesn't love the crunch? Maybe her version of a bag of Cheetos. :)
Ha ha, Charlene! Yes, they are still getting the raw food diet, for the most part, so actually there's lots of crunching (of bones) going on. I think the girl just likes to eat . . . reminds me of someone I know. Don't they say dogs resemble their owners?
I read today's conversation with a tear in my eye. A good friend is experiencing the grief of having brought her dog home from the vet to die. There is nothing that can be done. It's been a long while since I've owned a dog, and the pain of losing them is, in part, the reason.
My love affair with canine kids began when I was in third grade. My parents finally relented and bought a puppy for my birthday. Boots was a wonderful little Sheltie who became ill shortly after we brought her home. I still remember my mom lying on the kitchen floor with tears streaming down her cheeks trying to get Boots to eat. Our puppy had distemper. Turned out all the puppies in that store were ill. My mom went after the owner. As young as I was, I don't remember all the details, but Mom was instrumental in putting them out of business.
My next dog, King, was a mixed breed. German Shepherd, Collie, and Beagle. He was the smartest dog I ever knew. I cried buckets when, a year after I married, King died.
When my husband and I moved into our first house, one of our first additions was a puppy. We rescued him from a shelter. His soulful brown eyes, and resemblance to King, sealed the deal for me. Three trips later, we finally secured the puppy...Beau.
The first trip, my husband and I were deemed unworthy to adopt because we would be working parents, and who would take care of the puppy? The second trip, my father-in-law was not allowed to adopt because my mother-in-law had not accompanied us. Finally, my mom and dad were successful in bringing Beau home to us.
That first six months, we often shook our heads wondering why we didn't realize the Lord was trying to spare us! That puppy ate our oak kitchen table and chair legs, a brand new loveseat, and literally chewed a whole in our family room carpet!
Actually, in retrospect, it wasn't the puppy, it was our poor puppy-parenting skills.
We've had one other dog. My sister-in-law smuggled a puppy into her apartment. When her landlord found out, my husband and I took the adorable cocker spaniel to live with us. Buddy was a barker. We had her during my home-based daycare years. More often than not, she woke napping kids barking at every car or person she glimpsed out the window.
Currently, we have two cats and a lovebird. Yet, I still think of myself as a "dog-person." Maybe someday...
Karen, I got choked up reading your dog stories . . . especially about your Beau. That's really how the name of our dog Bo was spelled--Beau--when we got him from the humane society, but we just found it easier to call him Bo. And Bo was in our house while Rich and I both worked. He used to chew up our mail, and he chewed a door frame. One day we came home, noticed the mail was intact, and praised him for being such a good dog. Then Rich walked upstairs and the next thing I knew, I heard this tremendous shout of "Bad dog, Bo!" Rich had discovered that Bo had chewed out a perfect square--wish we'd had a candid camera to see him at work--out of our blue bedroom carpet. I can still see it in my mind's eye. A perfect square of carpet lifted out, along with the padding. We sewed it back--how, now, I can't remember--and it looked just fine. That dog was something else and we loved him passionately. He was good with our babies and a real character. My heart truly broke when he died at home, but at least I was right next to him, petting him and telling him I loved him. Now I am crying . . . that's the power of these wonderful animals and the impact they have on our lives.
I still think you two (mom and dad) call Daisy, "Emily" when she is bad!!! I'm so happy that I am an animal lover and glad that I grew up with parents who were willing to let me experiment with different pets. I had hamsters, birds,fish, a turtle, mice, a frog and our family dog. Now I have a cat and will someday get a puppy (or two). Oh and my new boyfriend doesn't have allergies - actually quite the opposite - he is an animal lover with a golden retriever and two cats. Yay!!! Let the animal party begin!
Emily
Emily, that's hilarious about all your pets. I grew up with assorted dogs, parakeets, canaries, gerbils, turtles, and tropical fish, and for a while had an ant farm. Amanda had brine shrimp from some school project. Once we had carpenter ants in our Wheaton house ... oops, that's the "fallen nature" blog.
I would open a debate about cats vs. dogs but I suspect the bloodletting here would get serious. -- Betsey
Yes, don't think we can "go there" about dogs vs. cats. Actually, I had a cat after college, but Dubs didn't like men and after I married Rich, Dubs had to go . . . Then we had Emma and O.J. and we loved them all.
Both Rich and I had the same childhood experience of parents who brought home a puppy and then had a change of heart and returned it . . . so this unrequited longing for a dog was fulfilled the minute Rich and I moved into our first home! We brought Bo from the humane society to the house we'd just closed on, then left him there to move our furniture in. We knew absolutely nothing about dog ownership. All we knew is that we fell in love with that black-and-white Labrador-like puppy with the white tip on his tail--and the rest, as they say, is history.
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