Hindsight In 2020 #9: Pups Of The Past
Just a few weeks ago a coworker, who I consider to be a friend, had to put their dog of thirteen years to rest. Needless to say she was emotional and heartbroken, as many of us would be. Many at work knew of her dog and had heard stories of how their family dog was their son’s best friend. Knowing the dog was well in years, my friend at work had one day mentioned to us that she didn’t know what she was going to do when the dog did pass away. She knew that her son would wake up looking for her and, one day, she would no longer be there.
See, my friend knew what would happen. The dog whom her family got to love on for thirteen long, wonderful years would eventually pass away. That’s what dogs do. They steal your heart, then they die. It’s sad, but it's true. Nothing, no one, not even a dog, lives forever. Despite knowing this, losing a dog from your family can still be a very emotional event.
The news of my friend’s dog passing away brought back memories of dogs my family had the pleasure of loving on over the years. My family was never a ‘dog crazy’ family. We had a few dogs over the years, but we weren’t the type of family to always have a dog. We once knew a family that said they took their dog for drives in the country just because the dog enjoyed looking at the cows. We thought they were nuts. I don’t have vivid memories of all of our family dogs; however, stories told by my mom and dad fill in some of the details. Some memories of our dogs are better than others of course, but most stories leave me smiling in the end even if it is through tears.
First, there was Tracker. Tracker was a black lab and had an unusual diet. I remember my mom and dad saying that Tracker lived off the land. He ate whatever he could find that was edible. And I mean whatever was edible. See, I was just a baby when Tracker was around. While walking around in the yard one day in my diaper, ‘cause that’s what babies do, a little prize fell out of my backside. A little brown prize. My parents vividly remember Tracker approaching that prize, sniffing that prize, and then promptly eating that prize. Yep. Tracker ate the poop that fell from my diaper. That’s about the only story of Tracker I’ve ever been told.
My dad used to be a member of a hunting club where they would run dogs after deer. I’m not 100% sure how many dogs my dad had at one time; but, I do remember some of their names. There was Tommy Boy and Richard (yes, from the movie Black Sheep), Spot-E-Dog, Moe, Cry Baby, Rat, Ethel, and Sadie. My dad had some of the best dogs in the club. Those dogs weren't just the best; they were the biggest. Some guys in the hunting club asked if my dad was going to run those dogs or ride them. That’s just how big they were. They were so good in fact, after leaving the hunting club, my dad would give his good friend several of the dogs to continue running in the club.
The one dog that we kept around after our time at that hunting club was a dog named Radar, named after the song “Radar Love” by the Golden Earrings. Radar was a huge Walker Hound and he was something else. He loved to sing. If you started howling, he’d howl right along. And he wouldn’t stop until you did. He could hold a tune. When we would drive down to the back of the field at my grandma’s house, he would run ahead barking, warning all the deer that he was coming. As Radar would leave the field and head back to the house, my dad claims that the deer would follow him out. I guess they weren't that afraid of him. I specifically remember Radar stepping in front of me as a boy and keeping me from stepping on a snake. I don’t remember if the snake was one of the dreaded ‘cotton headed-rattle moccasins’ of the south, but Radar kept me from getting too close.
Like all good dogs, Radar passed away. After not being seen for a few days, my grandpa found him under an old camper at his house. And wouldn’t you know it, I was the only one small and able enough to go under and get him out. I remember crawling under, looping that rope to his leg and helping my grandpa pull him from under the camper. We took Radar down to the back of the field and buried him there. I’m sure his spirit is still running around in the woods near the field, driving the deer crazy.
There was a good ten year gap in between pups. My family got really busy following me around with sports, did a lot of hunting and fishing, and did not have the time to put into a dog. We were fine with not having one. My dad was even under the impression that we didn’t need a dog. And then guess what happened? A pup just showed up.
While my dad was poking around the yard one day at our old house, he just happened to notice a puppy underneath the trailer cooker. He somehow coaxed the puppy into coming out from under the cooker and took her to our garage. I still remember my mom calling and telling me that dad had found a dog. I was at Zaxby’s eating with some friends. It’s crazy what you remember, huh? Of course I rushed home to see the puppy!
She was so tiny. And hungry, too. She drank milk until her little puppy tummy looked like a blimp! That puppy would later be named Marlyn, like the fish, except with a Y instead of an I. She would become one of the greatest dogs I’d ever had the pleasure of being round. She was so loved by my parents that they would even let her in the house some nights! This was unheard of in my family. Dogs were meant for outside, especially big ones. But Marlyn had her own little bed by the door that she could sit in some nights. Marlyn would also join us on our many adventures. She loved fishing. She also had to sniff and lick anything we caught. She loved riding in the back of the truck. Any cow pasture we passed would be greeted with whimpers and whines from Marlyn as if requesting to play with the cows. Believe it or not, we would just take her for rides near cow pastures because she loved it so much. The irony. Looking back, I think she loved riding the four-wheeler more than anything. She loved to, even as a fully grown dog, sit in our laps as we drove the four-wheeler. The back was not for her. I think she loved the four-wheeler so much because she could get down and run when she wanted and then climb back to the handlebars with ease. She could jump so high. She jumped into the driver-side window of a car one day to greet me! Cleared the door and everything!
She was a tough pup. We used to let Marlyn run around in the yard when we would all make it home from work and school. It was a nice break from her being in her kennel all day. She would sniff around the yard, do her business and stay pretty close to the house. One day, after her being out a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find an older lady looking very sad.
With tears in her eyes, she looked at me and said, “I think I hit your dog”.
I ran past the woman, ran to the edge of the driveway and found Marlyn lying there beside the road. She lifted up her head and looked at me. I knelt by her side and petted her soft white fur. Dad suggested we carry her to the garage and lay her on a towel. I don’t remember her bleeding or whining too much. She was so tough. I sat by her side most of that evening. If she made it through the night, we planned to take her to the vet first thing that following morning. As soon as my eyes opened that next morning, I busted it down the hall and into the garage to check on Marlyn. She was alive! That crazy dog had crawled her way to the top of the steps! X-rays at the vets office showed she had a broken leg. There was no internal damage. After a few weeks, she was back to normal, riding the four-wheeler and jumping in the bed of the truck. Those were some great times.
Sadly, Marlyn had to leave us. I’ll never forget the day and the way I heard the news. I had moved away from my hometown and was working at a school a few hours away. On my drive to school, my mom would call nearly every morning just to talk. That’s what she does. Well, one morning she did not call. I didn’t think much of it. I went in to work and went about my day. As I was leaving work for the day, I called my dad. He said to call him when I got back to my house. I obliged and continued on my way home. Walking in the door I headed straight to the bathroom. I had to pee worse than Forrest at the White House. While relieving myself, I dialed dad up again. He told me that when he went to let Marlyn out of her pen earlier that morning, he saw that she had passed away. Neither he or my mom had any idea what happened, but dad said she had died sometime during the night. Remember, I’m standing at the toilet. I listened in shock. I had just seen Marlyn a couple of days before. Dad told me that he took her body, wrapped her in a bed sheet, and buried her next to Radar in the field at grandma’s. Marlyn loved to play out there, like Radar before her.
My mom later gave me a little more detail on Marlyn’s burial. She said that my dad cried with every shovel of dirt while digging her grave. My dad, the one who said we didn’t need a dog, loved her. I honestly believe that it broke his heart as much as, or more, than mine when Marlyn passed away.
A few years later I bought a house closer to my place of employment. I lived alone and, as you could guess, was lonely. I had an idea. I’ll get a dog. Marlyn had provided so much joy in my life and, although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, I had a hole in my heart that hadn’t been filled after her early exit. So, I went to an animal shelter near my house in search of a new Marlyn. I now know that was a terrible idea. No dog can replace or take the place of another dog. At this shelter, one dog caught my eye. At first glance, I thought it was Marlyn. They looked so similar! When they opened that dog’s kennel, she came right to me and laid at my feet. She was soon in the backseat of my truck headed home with me.
I named her Sadie. She was a mix between a lab and a bulldog. I learned quickly that Sadie was not Marlyn. And for some time, I think I held that against her. That was totally unfair to her. Sadie was her own special pup. The vet had no idea how old she was when I adopted her. Despite what the animal shelter told me, she was NOT spayed. I found that out the first month she moved in. She began living in the house with me, but that soon came to a halt. Sweeping up hair every ten minutes was not enjoyable. Lucky for me and her, I had a large, fenced in backyard for her to stay. Being outside was never a problem for her; however, staying inside the fence was another story.
Like Marlyn, Sadie could jump right over a four foot fence like it was nothing. After locking her in the gate, I’d walk to the kitchen and see her at the front door of the house. It was like she was a magic dog. When she would get out, she would sometimes visit that neighbors, make sure the ends of the road were safe and then come back home. One morning I woke up to her not sitting at the front door. I thought she must be in the back. But nope, she wasn’t there either. I didn’t see Sadie for a couple of days! I rode around the neighborhood, asked neighbors and even called the vet; but, no one had seen or heard from Sadie. Then, I got a call at work saying that she’d been found! She was a few miles up the road hanging out with more dogs at a person’s house. She just wanted a friend. Sadie was the only dog in my life for a while, but she met a new friend about the same time that I did.
When I met the woman who would later be called my wife, she had a Great Pyrenees Lab Mix named Belle. Belle actually joined my wife to meet me at Sonic early in our relationship. There I sat in a two door car with a big dog in my lap talking to this girl I was trying to be sweet on. Belle was one precious puppy. Her and Sadie played great together. Where Sadie was nervous and shy from being at the pound, Belle was open and loving from having been raised by my wife and her family. When Belle would sit, she would do so very gently and always lean to one side. Her hips weren’t the best, but they didn’t lie. She loved to sit right on top of your feet. She’d get as close as possible and then lean on you with all of her weight like she was giving you the biggest hug that she could. When petting her, she wouldn’t let you stop. If you did happen to stop, she would gently touch your hand with her paw to let you know you could continue petting. One of the funniest sights to see during Belle’s time at our house was her loading up in the back of the truck. Sadie was in the truck before the tailgate was completely down; meanwhile, Belle could barely get her front paws up on the tailgate. She was so big and her hips were so weak that she had to be held like a baby to get into the back of the truck. Both pups loved to ride to the trash dump, up to the Dollar General and go for walks around the neighborhood.
Three years into our marriage, we had our first child. Soon after his birth we sold our house and moved in with my wife’s parents while we built our house. Our dogs moved with us and lived happily at Mimi’s house, for a while at least. During the move and the building of our house, my wife and I discussed our dog situation. Our new home would be much closer to the city, with no fence at the time it was built. Sadie could barely stay in a fence and we didn’t want Belle to be confined to a 10'x10' kennel most of the day. So, we made the decision to let Belle go live with another family. If you love something, sometimes you have to let it go, right? Belle went to live with a family from our church that had a big horse farm. Belle would be their only pup, get to help out around the farm and live, what we believed, a more full life. This was not an easy decision. Even though we knew it would be best for big ole Belle, and we knew the people from our church would love her just like we did; it was tough to see her leave in another person’s truck. I remember seeing tears in my wife’s eyes and watching my son wave goodbye to one of his best friends.
When we moved into our house, we left Sadie at Mimi’s until we could get a fence built. After building a house, we were trying to save a little money before putting a fence around our huge backyard. Sadie loved it at Mimi’s. No pen, no fence, just running around the rural area at her house; but, dogs sometimes make mistakes. And Sadie made one. This was probably something she had done a hundred times, but it finally caught up with her. She was struck by a car one afternoon while crossing the road about two hundred yards from where she was staying. I was heartbroken to hear the news, but knew that was always a possibility with her not being on a leash, in a fence or a kennel. I’m sure she was more happy living the life she did rather than being stuck in a kennel.
Belled lived for two more years with that family that owned a horse farm. We received pictures of her from the family, kept up with her on Facebook and even went to visit a few times. But, like all dogs, Belle stole our heart and and theirs and then passed on. She, too, was struck by a vehicle near their farm. I was informed by the family the day they found her. Needless to say, they and I were heartbroken. I waited to tell my wife until both of us returned home. Again, we both knew she was happy and lived a good life, but were deeply saddened by her death.
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My wife and I joke that we will never own another dog. Not because we don’t love them. No, no. I think we are staying away from dogs for a while because of the attachments that come with owning a dog. At first, it’s all fun and cute and cuddly. Then it’s a lot of work because they are like toddlers, of which we already have two human toddlers! Dogs steal your heart, make you fall in love with them, so much so that you buy them presents on holidays like they are one of your kids. After falling in love, treating them like a family member, and including them in your family photos; all dogs do the same thing. They pass on. They leave us hurting, leave us missing them, and leave a hole that can never be filled quite the same.
But, that’s life. Puppies prepare us for the inevitable event in life that we all must face, death. After the death of a loved one, dog or human, we cherish the memories made and the laughs that were shared. Sure, I could think about how those dogs left a hole in my heart and how there will never be another dog like them. Or I can choose to remember all the good stuff. I choose to remember singing with Radar and trying to ride his back as a kid. I choose to remember how Marlyn would run right to her feed bowl when shown a ‘blue-can’ of food and her trying to steer the four-wheeler all by herself. I choose to remember Sadie playing with my son in the yard and how she headbutted my wife when they first met each other. I choose to remember Belle laying in her kiddie pool completely submerged in water, soaking up all the fun going on in our backyard.
It’s those memories that make me appreciate the love my dogs gave. It’s those same memories that make me happy to have been apart of their short lives. If you have a dog at home, give it some love. Scratch their belly, rub behind their ears and give them a special treat. Enjoy them now because there will be a time when they won’t be here anymore. Make some good memories. Take some good pictures. Love them while you can because, like most things in life, they won’t last forever.
Happy Friday!
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