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Franchise Player
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: nexus of the universe
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What great timing. I recently wrote a piece about my dog, addressed to my dog. Not entirely sure why, the mood just struck me.
Sorry for the length. Just thought I'd share as it fits into the theme of the thread.
The question took a thousand variances.
The answer was always the same.
"Can we get a dog?"
"No"
"Why???"
"Because"
Persistance was futile. But persistant I was. You were the pinnacle of my hopes and dreams. A dream I would not let die, however steadfast the resistance seemed.
I loved my first pet like he was you. A hamster. Not just any hamster. A siberian dwarf attack hamster. Any intruder inside his domain was treated as a severe threat needing to be neutralized with a diving chomp. Many would find it difficult to love something that feasts repeatedly on their flesh. But he was my pet, and as close to a dog I was getting, so I loved him unconditionally.
I took such good care of him that he survived comfortably past his life expectancy. And when he did finally succumb to his age I handled it better than any twelve year old could. It wasn't until the first bit of dirt was thrown onto his tiny kleenex box casket in the backyard that the tears began to flow.
But something more than a hamster was planted that day. The notion that perhaps a family dog was a responsibility we were capable of handling had entered my parents' collective mind.
The day we were informed about you had started like any other but ensured no day would ever be the same.
"Kids, your mother and I have been looking at this puppy..."
Flabergasted is a strange word in itself, but it served as perfect onomatopoeia for the exicted gurgle that escaped my throat, the only sound I could muster.
"We were thinking of taking you guys to see it this afternoon."
As quickly as possible we were situated in the back seat, embarking on the longest 15 minute drive in recorded history. They informed us that they had been in discussion about this decision for a while. That this was just the first breeder they had visited, and we were supposed to be critical in our opinion of you. There would be opportunities for other dogs if we decided to keep looking.
You could have been puke-stained green with 6 legs and a rabies infection. Wouldn't have mattered, I was bringing you home. Before I even saw you I knew you were my dog. 14 years was enough... I was ready to finally meet.
Fortunately you didn't have rabies. In fact you were about the cutest puppy I could imagine. A little black and white fuzzball. The runt of the litter born to a 10 pound mother, boy you were tiny. All your siblings had found other homes already. Safe to say you weren't quite as enamored to meet us. For one, it would be near impossible to match the thrill I felt seeing you for the first time. And second you were busy with an intriguing smell in the corner of the yard. But when we called you came trampling over, gave us a little sniff and wag hello, and welcomed our enthusiastic affection. I had known you for a minute and I already loved you more than anything I had ever known, even my beloved siberian dwarf attack hamster.
It must have been difficult for you. Taken away from your mom and the only home you knew to live in a strange house with new humans who were all over you. My sister and I agreed to allow you alone time to acclimate to your kennel and new surrondings. I must have held out a full 85 seconds before I caved. I just wanted to be around you. I remember waking to your yips on the second morning, and melting as you excitedly leapt up at me from you pen. I lifted you out and onto my bed and stared with astonishment and admiration as you sniffed over my blankets. Suddenly you stopped, squatted, and let go a morning stream right on my pillow. I had forgotten we were in potty training mode.
It was the first of many possessions of mine you would destroy. My childhood blanket. My other childhood blanket. My favourite hat. My favourite stuffed animal. Boy you were a hellion. It's almost hard to remember now the trouble we endured in your puppy stage. You were a biter. Loved to chew on everything, including our hands (must have been harnessing the spirit of my hamster). No matter what we tried you wouldn't stop nipping when you were excited. We had the spray. We had the bad dog leash (initially the bad dog box, until we discovered there was no box that could contain a determined you). Anything and everything to settle you down. I know you were just having fun, being a kid. And I wouldn't change a thing about that time if I could.
Some might have considered you not the brightest pup. I knew the truth; you were too brilliant to conform. We did the 8 weeks of training classes. You never did learn to heel. Why would you trot alongside when the leash allows you room to wander (that is when you weren't chewing on it)? You learned how to come really well though. That is only if you were certain there was a treat in the deal for you. I'll never forget the awws we got in puppy class when it was our turn to perform and I sat you down and ordered you to stay with a false bravado. In reality I was pleading and praying you would appease me this one time. But when I yelled Come! and you bounded towards me with your paws flailing in the air leaving the audience to coo... well that's a vision that'll stick with me always.
And in the end you passed! You may have shared a three way tie for the lowest grade, but we saw it through together.
I thought the terrible twos were reserved for toddlers, but you proved it was meant for puppies too. For a while we thought you'd never stop playing with your mouth. Plus you were an escape artist. The countless times we chased you around the neighbourhood. Eventually we accepted you would never be an off-leash dog. Our trust and praise just wasn't as appealing as a passing squirrel. It broke my heart to listen to your whimpering on your daily visit to the bad dog leash. At the end of your timeout I would find you laying on the floor, leash completely taut, collar nearly choking you, and you chin between your paws as you'd look up at me with you brown puppy eyes.
But somewhere in that second year something shifted. You got comfortable. You matured. Your personality started to shine through and catch up with your adult body. It turned out you weren't exactly the runt we had anticipated. These days you were tipping the scales at over 20 pounds. More than both your parents combined.
You developed a different relationship with all of us. Mom was your favourite, just like you had become hers. Her dislike of pets was never a secret, and it had later been revealed she was the source of the "no dogs ever" rule, but you adored her and somehow you won her over. Of course I was a little jealous that she won the title, but really it was no surprise as she was the one home all the time with you and did the brunt of the walking/feeding.
Dad was the sucker. We all knew him as a softie and you picked up on that right away. He was the source of leftovers from the table, a belly rub in the evening, or an extra long walk on a saturday morning. Your nighttime became linked with his. As soon as he was ready for bed, signled by a goodnight kiss to mom, you would perk up, grab a toy and trot to the bedroom awaiting his arrival.
My sister was the cuddler. All she had to do was sit down and you were in her lap. She was the one that actually awarded you your space growing up and you rewarded her with a snuggle anytime she felt like it.
I was your buddy. The fun we had playing and wrestling together seems endless. Your ferocious growls during tug-of-war frightened company as we dueled on the living room rug, but we both knew it was in spirit of the battle. We know eachother better than anyone could. Just one look and i can usually tell exactly what you're thinking, and vise versa.
You've been there in my darkest times. Life hasn't always been easy, but when I found myself at the end of my rope, there you were, this time using those brown puppy eyes to look sympathetically at me. You kept me going when I wasn't sure I could. Nights spent alone, and feeling even lonlier, you were there, the weight of your body warming more than just my feet, your soft sighs permeating the darkness.
I know I neglected you at times. It's painful to admit it. There were evenings I left you alone while I looked after myself. Walks I reneged on because I couldn't be bothered. Even meals you missed because it slipped my mind.
But you never seem to judge me, or hold a grudge over me. You're happy with whatever you recieve. It's an inspiration, one I try to follow and live by everyday.
You're getting older-- into your senior years now. Your joints are starting to tighten, your eyes beginning to cloud, your days becoming shorter. But whenenver I get down on the ground and start that game of tug-of-war, that puppy spirit shines through. I miss the days when I lived at home with you, but it makes me appreciate the opportunities I get to see you even more. And I know you're looking after my parents, just as much as they're looking after you.
I dreamt about having a dog my entire life. You'd think after nearly an entire childhood of fantasizing, you couldn't quite live up to my fantasies. Well you didn't... you exceeded them. I'm so thankful I had the priveledge of raising you, growing up with you, learning from you, and I promise that however many years you have left I will do my best to return the joy and happiness you've provided me. I love you buddy.
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Would there even be no trade clauses if Edmonton was out of the NHL? - fotze
Last edited by Kidder; 11-09-2010 at 07:36 AM.
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You Son of a Bitch..... why ? 
