Bighammer.net blog

When you came to us, you were pint sized, no bigger than a football. You were terrified by the loud noises and flashing lights that you later learned were thunderstorms. Your time with us was only a few days short of 14 years. We probably didn’t realize just how good you helped make those years until now. You hated that cage when you first came home, much preferring to be with the family and you were none too keen on that spiral staircase, barking and crying to come up or down. You weren’t too fond of our driving either, as we found many times when you were young.

Your life spanned both hard times and good times for us from when we were just starting out as a family through a time when we were finally comfortable. You tolerated our quirks, friends, house guests and that hateful cat, Mr. Bigglesworth. In your time with us you saw us through 5 houses, 8 jobs, 7 cars, 1 truck, 2 SUV’s, & 3 motorcycles. I realized early on that you were sharp. I’ll never forget the time you swiped the 5 hot dogs right off the buns without even disturbing the condiments in a matter of 20 seconds. The thing is, you weren’t big enough to hold 5 hot dogs in your stomach and that made for a lesson for both of us. It wasn’t long until your first move. It was our first house, and our yard was small, but you made yourself right at home. By now, you were bounding up and down stairs like they were nothing. It wasn’t long after that we went to obedience school. I don’t think you liked it at first, but after a couple lessons, you really had the hang of things. Everywhere we went, all the people we met complimented how well behaved you were. While you wanted nothing to do with it at first, the game of fetch became one of your true passions. You were within a whisker of being the Best Man at our wedding and even though you probably didn’t care unless there was a milk bone in it you didn’t seem to have a problem sitting that one out. Sometimes I think if the pastor hadn’t objected it might have been a more fun time.

You joined us on many vacations and were the role model for all traveling dogs. Leashes were only a formality for you. A few months after settling in to the new house you were rudely surprised when we brought home Kyrie with us. The look on your face expressed pure contempt and the question “who is this bitch and what is she doing here?” She sure kept you entertained, and it didn’t take long for you two to take a liking to each other. Sometimes you stayed with friends or family when we went on trips together, and sometimes you joined us. We missed you while we were away. One day when I was leaving the house I heard a strange noise. It turned out to be you and Kyrie howling mournfully. Our neighbor confirmed this was common soon after we departed, and soon before we returned home from work. We didn’t hear it often, mostly we heard the cacophony of you and Kyrie barking with excitement at our return. Sometimes I wasn’t in the mood, and it wasn’t until later that I understood the significance of this. I’m glad you forgave me for not understanding at first. One day I decided that you would probably do a great job of bringing the newspaper inside and sure enough, you did a bang up job while Kyrie stood around and watched. You spilled a few on the ground, stupid paper man should’ve done a better job, but you were always ready to grab the paper for us. I taught you to stay put when someone tried to step over top of you, and not “walk underfoot” and to stay out of the ‘no dog zone’ while we were eating. I can’t recall the number of times I tripped over you because your coat offered near perfect camouflage with the hardwood floors.

As you grew through adulthood we moved again, this time to a house without stairs, and a bigger yard. You liked that a lot. We heard the howling a couple more times as you and Kyrie ‘responded’ to sirens, or were just waiting for us to come home. By now, you too had long since not needed a cage to feel safe or for house training. You guys were there for us as constant companions. Just as we got settled, we moved again, and it was an even bigger yard this time! We could play ball for hours. You might’ve lost a step or two, but that didn’t deter your enthusiasm playing. Soon we had 2 new housemates, and one was a cat. That wasn’t my idea and you know it. You gave us a hell of a scare when your stomach turned. I couldn’t understand what was wrong at first so we called our trusted Doc Watkins who immediately declared bloat. We rushed you to the ER for surgery and you came through with flying colors. That was our fault. We knew you didn’t like being separated from us, and a short trip to a groomer was enough to send your nerves over the edge. We never knew this could happen but you forgave us for that too.

I was saddened that with someone in the house all the time, the howling got less frequent. We got used to hearing it. Unfortunately it wasn’t long after that Kyrie became gravely ill. I know you remember this time and you were very helpful to us while we bought her all the time we could. That was a long year for us ‘bro and you were always there for us. One September day that year Kyrie’s illness finally caught up. I could tell as soon as I saw her that she was doing really badly and I think you knew too. I could tell you weren’t “right” when I walked in, and I can’t be sure that you knew, but I think you did. I know you understood when I carried her out to get her some help. She had to leave us then and it was far too soon. I never heard the howling again.

Maybe it was because we were all feeling down at Kyrie’s loss, but you sure were acting depressed. Soon we went to go visit some friends and you met Jessie for the first time. Even so, your expression said “Who is this bitch, and what is she doing here?” You guys scrapped a little at first. It seems she didn’t quite get that she couldn’t come near your food bowl. Even I knew this. You guys still got along though. She liked to fetch too and even had her own ball. She might have had a few steps on you and you were a little hard of hearing now and sometimes you needed a little help to get into the trucks but that didn’t dampen your mood one bit. Soon, we moved again and this yard was even bigger. You could hang back and watch Jessie chase every wild critter under the sun and never catch one of them. By now, our games of fetch were growing shorter and we had to watch for you to give us the sign that you were ready for a break. You still did a great job with the paper though and didn’t like it one bit when Jessie did it. The stairs in the new house weren’t your favorite but you continued to swipe the cat’s food even so. You didn’t mind when we went back to the beach where you kept getting those cactuses stuck in your paws. I had to help you into the truck each time but you still had a great time.

Just a few months ago we noticed you were shaking a little and the doctors weren’t happy about that. They couldn’t say why but we got some medicine to make you feel better. You just kept on being our best friend. Through dozens of doctor visits, different medicines you never failed to greet us at the door, warn us of someone else at the door, chase down a ball for us, get the paper. We noticed you were having a harder time getting to your feet, but still joining us wherever we went. Just a week before your 14th birthday we saw that you couldn’t get up at all. We took you to the doctor again and there wasn’t anything they could do. We helped you up when you needed it and spent lots of time with you. We kept a close eye on you and we all wanted you bounce back just one more time. Even when the day came to let you go we couldn’t convince ourselves that this time had finally come. There was no joy in your face and your walk was wobbly and uneven. We knew that whatever you had was wearing you down and we couldn’t buy you any more time. We spent the last few moments doing what you loved best, just hanging out together. We know those last few days were difficult for you but it was no problem to give you a hand getting up, or into the car, or up the stairs, outside to play… We would have gladly done it more.

Who can forget the time you swiped my hot dogs, or the stick of butter, or the chocolate chip cookies, or the burgers, or fried chicken, bones and all? Or all the hawking for food, fishing for treats or that look you got whenever we grabbed a leash? Today, on your birthday I remember you and it isn’t those few days helping you up and around, it’s thinking of you bounding across the yard chasing a ball, grabbing the paper for us whether it was hot, cold, sunny, rainy and even only the slippery ice you didn’t like at all. I remember that look you gave when one of us grabbed a leash and you knew we were going somewhere, or just laying at the top of the stairs watching over everything. Thank you.