Saturday, September 10, 2011

Goodbye Old Friend

When I was 16 years old I brought home a puppy. My mom was not thrilled with the idea and told me to find him a new home while she and my dad went to the mall for dinner. I found him a home while they were out, but my Dad worked his magic on my mom and I got to go retrieve him back from the friend who said they would take him and keep him. I named him Otis, but he was never called that. His real name was Puppy.

You see, Puppy, was half Jack Russell terrier and half Poodle. He was a mixture of hyperactivity and intelligence. He would drive you completely insane with his energy level, but was smart enough to know exactly what he was doing. He would growl when you said the word "bath", he would look out the window if you said "squirrel", he loved tennis balls like they were some form of dog class A narcotics, and he could run like a gazelle. He was an awesome dog.

When I left home, it was decided that he was too used to being in my mother's house and that he should just stay with her. I don't think the military life would have suited him at all. He would still be my dog, but my mom would have custody. I always loved coming back to my parents house, sitting down on the sofa and having to restrain my Puppy from licking me to death because he was so excited to see me.

This past year he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. It was kept in check with medicines and he continued for the most part to be his happy, bouncy, sometimes crotchety old self. I saw him over the summer and had made a few more memories with him.

Yesterday my mother called and said that Puppy was not doing well and was going to be taken to the vet. She didn't have much hope that he would recover and had a feeling that she would probably have to put him to sleep in order to prevent him from suffering. The vet however suggested a change to his medicines and said he was resting comfortably and that she could pick him back up around 5:30pm. About 15 minutes before she was due to pick him up from the vet's office, his little heart gave out on him.

I am sad of course, but I know that he did not suffer. He lived 14 wonderful years. He had a great home. He had a family that loved him. He was one lucky dog.


Rest well you little hellion. We're going to miss you.