Friday, August 26, 2016

It’s National Dog Day
            Here’s to all the dogs I’ve loved.
Alex with Comet during the holidays.

Today is National Dog Day and I’ve been thinking about all the dogs I’ve had in my life. I decided to write a blog about them. I’m quite sure most people are not the least bit interested in all the pooches I’ve loved, but if anyone is the least bit curious, here it goes!
The first dog our family owned was named Cinder -- a little, black Cocker Spaniel. I don’t remember much about Cinder, but I have a photo of myself, chubby and curly-haired, cuddling the little pup; we’re sitting together on the front porch of my childhood home in Kentucky.
The second dog I remember was Star. Star was a purebred, black German shepherd who wandered the neighborhood, ate spaghetti, and was hit by a taxicab. She didn’t die in the accident, fortunately, but her shoulder was injured badly. When she recovered she chased taxicabs and police cars. That’s it. I suppose the light or fixture on top of the vehicle triggered a reaction. Those cars clearly were the enemy! (By the way, I don’t think leash laws existed back then.)
Star wasn’t really my dog. My parents bought her from a country farmer for my bother, Jay, but I loved her just as much as he did. Maybe more. I could hold her up by her front paws and she would “dance” with me. We were the same height. Sweet Star was very patient with me. She died of kidney failure when she was about thirteen after my parents moved from Elizabethtown to Louisville. By that time my brother and I had moved away, he to Lexington and the University of Kentucky; I was in California, plugging away at the College of Marin. When my mother called with news of Star’s death, I cried and cried. It broke my heart.
My next dog was Seurat, a purebred Dalmatian who was gifted to us by a friend. We were thrilled for the simple reason that our son, Alex, already had dreams of being a firefighter. What better dog for our little boy to have? I also thought we gave Seurat a brilliant name. We named her after the French pointillist painter who was noted for painting with impeccably placed dots. Seurat was a very hyper dog, unfortunately, but we loved her anyway. When Alex was small, Seurat would chase him around the yard, stick her mussel between his little legs and trip him. It was a great game and both of them loved it. Seurat lived to be around thirteen too and was loved by both Alex and his brother, Justin for many years. When we had to have Seurat put down, Alex, Justin, and I cried for days.
Our next dog was Comet, the dog Alex loved more than any other. We found Comet at the Marin Humane Society. She was a pit bull, ridgeback mix and truly was a gem. She lived to be seventeen and a half. Though Comet had very powerful pit jaws, she was the sweetest dog ever. She did have her moments when she exercised her strength though. The most daunting example of her power was when she took down a full-grown raccoon on our back deck. She sported the scars on her nose to prove it for the rest of her life.
Also notable was Comet’s love for Alex. When Alex was a grown man, he was diagnosed with brain cancer. After a second craniotomy, when we were not sure Alex would survive the night, we put Comet on his bed. Alex was in horrible pain, and after hours spent at the emergency room was home again. He could hardly raise his head, but he recognized Comet’s presence before falling asleep. “Comet,” he mumbled. The next day he was much better. We like to credit the unconditional love of the dog for his rapid improvement.
In Comet’s later years she was incontinent, skinny, and weak. I cleaned up many messes, but could not have her put down for Alex’s sake. Finally on the day she could not stand, I knew it was time. I called my son, who lived in Sacramento and told him to come home. The morning before we took her to the vet, Alex carried Comet in his arms in the field below our house for the last time. We then went together to the vet. She died peacefully with her snout in Alex’s hands while I was clutching her foot. I will never forget that moment. Alex and I could hardly see our way out of the vet’s office that afternoon.
Rich & Judi with Quazar & Bummer.

At the same time we had Comet, we owned Quazar, his brother, Bummer (and he could be a bummer). We rescued these two from a friend who likely would have discarded them somewhere had we not taken them. They were boxer/Australian shepherd mixes that, though sweet, did not always get along with each other. We had quite a few skirmishes between those two. Both were good dogs, though, and both died of cancer, Bummer going first.
We had two other dogs at the same time we had Comet, Quazar, and Bummer. Yes, five all at once, plus five cats as well! Justin was given a beautiful purebred Alaskan huskie that “talked” endlessly, could jump six feet high, and shed more hair than any dog in the world, I’m sure. Justin named him Lupus, but we all called him Louie for short. He was beautiful and generally a good boy, except for one little issue. He hated cats and broke my heart when he killed the kitten Justin and Amy had given me for my birthday, in the kitchen. I’ll never forget that moment. Karma is a bitch, though. Louie developed diabetes later in life, was overweight, and blind. He had moved out of our house with Justin by then and died at probably around ten years of age.
And then there was Max. Max was Rick’s dog, a purebred, 110-pound black lab. Max was a great watchdog but was quite irritable when he grew older. The most memorable event that involved Max was his near mauling of Justin in the house. Justin, who was in his early twenties by then, was home alone. Bummer and Max got into a fight and, in trying to break the two up, Justin slipped to the ground. Max turned his attention from Bummer to Justin. He shredded Justin’s arms. Justin’s girlfriend (now wife), Amy, arrived just at that moment, thankfully, and was able to get Justin to the emergency room where he was treated for multiple wounds on both arms. Rick and I had just arrived in Tahoe when we received the phone call.
“You’d better get home. Justin is in bad shape.”
We hopped back into our car, drove home, to find Justin’s arms completely bandaged. I don’t know how many stitches he had but there were A LOT! Needless to say, I never had much affection for Max after that. He was quarantined for a week or so and then set free to live out his life. Max got sick one weekend and died on a Monday at the veterinary hospital. It was cancer (again) that took him. His passing was not pretty. He literally howled as he took his last breath while Rick and I stood helplessly by. It was horrible, and another moment I won’t forget.
So, the five dogs left us, one by one: Bummer, Max, Lupus, Comet, and finally, Quazar. We lived with only cats for a couple of years until we had an opportunity to get a German shepherd. My bilingual assistant at the time had visited family in Los Angeles over the holidays and came home with Ace, a male German shepherd.
“There are more,” she told me.
Rick and I decided it was time, so in just over a month, Hallie, our beautiful full bred German shepherd was delivered to our door, all the way from L.A. She was a sweet, shy bundle of fur. I was in love! After five dogs, one seemed perfect until Alex made a suggestion.
“Mom, my friend’s Brittney/Lab mix just had about thirteen puppies. The dad is a big, old, hunting lab. All the pups are blond or black except for one that is brown. It’s my favorite. Don’t you think you and Rick could take a second dog? It would be company for Hallie.”
Rudy & Hallie as pups.

How could we say no to Alex? In a week Alex brought home the little pup and we named him Rudy. Rudy had been living in a Tuff shed with all the other dogs and obviously had not been eating well. His tiny, little, emaciated body didn’t quite fit his large head. A trip to the vet informed us that he had worms and fleas but those problems were taken care of easily. In no time at all, Rudy was chubby and happy, sharing space with his new friend, Hallie. Rudy and Hallie were two weeks apart in age, with Rudy being the older. They were inseparable; that is until December of 2015, when at the young are of eight, Rudy died. In August we had noticed lumps on Rudy’s throat. He was diagnosed with lymphoma, and although we treated him with steroids and other meds, we had to let him go. On a Saturday morning in December, he looked at Rick with pleading eyes as if to say, “I’m sick, Dad. I’ve had enough.” We took him to the vet that day and sat with him until the end. We were so, so sad. And so was Hallie. She began moping and would not eat. She had lost her best friend too.
Hallie and Rudy - best friends.

I had the brilliant idea that we should get a companion for her, a puppy. We decided on another German shepherd, and with the help of a retired police officer friend found a breeder in Chico (which incidentally is where Rudy had been born) and drove there in January. There we picked up Jake. He was six weeks old and a bundle of fur and energy. He will be nine months old on this coming Sunday. Jake is a stunning dog – handsome, friendly, and sweet. He has become very attached to me, so much so that Rick has said we should rename him “Barney” as he is like a barnacle, never leaving my side.
I had hoped Hallie would come out of her funk when Jake arrived. She’s a female; he’s a male. I thought she might nurture a little puppy. Wrong. She definitely is not the nurturing type and Jake is relentless in trying to gain her attention. Needless to say, there have been a few hurt feelings between the two over the last few months, but finally, I believe we are over the hump. I actually think they enjoy each other’s company.
And that’s it. These are the dogs that have come and gone in my life. I really have loved them all and have been grateful that I have been able to provide a loving home for them. Each dog I’ve owned has had a unique personality and all have enriched my life. Happy National Dog Day!  
Judi with Jake and Hallie hiking above Lake Tahoe.

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