We picked him up on Christmas Eve that year. A little
black ball of fur with two black eyes. The only thing white on him were his
exposed teeth, a result of a bad underbite.
It didn't matter.
Sue took one look and made the same sound she made when
the doctors handed her a newborn child on three separate occasions.
In ten seconds she transformed into one of those women
who carry their dogs in a purse. When she put that dog in her purse, like Rosanne
Rosannadanna said,"I thought I was gonna die.." She was, for a time, like her little dog,
insufferable. They also became inseparable.
The little black fur ball was named Spanky shortly
thereafter, and proceeded to take over the entire family.
An honest and sincere attempt to housebreak Spanky would
prove fruitless. His motto was surely "The world is my urinal, I shall not
want..."
We bought pee pads by the trailer truckload.
Of course Spanky didn't dare sleep on the floor, he slept
in our queen size bed, firmly planted in between Sue and I, his 12 pounds
feeling like 125 as we fought for cover.
Our nightly ritual back then consisted of tussling with each other, me
taunting him while he barked, then eventually jumping off the bed to go get
Sue. I left for Iraq for a year and upon my return Spank had worked his way to
my side of the bed, sleeping there nightly with his head on my pillow. My first
night back, he beat me to bed by 10 minutes then growled when I tried to move
him. Every night for two weeks after that I was awoken by his breathing in my face
as we shared a pillow.
A few years ago I had a hospital stay, and upon my return
I was greeted by the Spankster, who licked me until I was a slobbery mess.
My Mother, never a lover of animals (but they all love
her) brought Spanky french fries when she visited. He never forgot her for it
nor would forgive her for it when she showed up empty handed.
As he got older he was unable to jump on the bed or
couch, having to be picked up. We eventually gave up trying to housebreak him
or fight for the covers. It was Spankys world and we just resided in it.
He had been getting sicker and weaker in the last couple of weeks,
so we knew it was time. I drove him to the vets office, him barely able to hold
his head up, but he licked my hand, then giving me an extended glance with those black eyes of
his.
Seems like perhaps he knew.
Not hardly a day goes by that I don't see someone's posting on social media about their beloved pet crossing the rainbow bridge. It's like a member of the family, they say.
I held my little buddy while the Vet prepared the shot.
No pain, no suffering, just like they said. The humane
thing to do, not letting him suffer, just like we all said. 16 years for a dog
is a long time, just like we all said. He had a charmed good life, like I said,
and like Sue and the kids said.
You're not about to get an argument from me.....
But it's just a dog, like they said.
And
here I am, just another guy whose dog was being put down.
Man up, I said, as I held our ever faithful Spanky Doodle
Dandy, the French fry eating, cover hogging, pee wherever you want to member of
our family for the last 16 years, the tears running down my face and my heart
breaking into a million pieces.
Just like they said.
