Thursday, August 14, 2014
Remembering Speed Bump, Cujo, and Munchkin…
On my way home from the office this evening I got a call from my wife who was sobbing on the other end of the line. Now, given the fact that she is pregnant, this doesn’t necessarily mean that there is something wrong. However, tonight she had a darn good reason as she had just learned that her beloved little doggy was gone.
She got Little Prince at a time in her life when she needed a furry companion (long before I filled that role) and while she hadn’t lived with the dog for many years, it was still her dog. He had been struggling for some time now so, while sad, it was probably the best thing that could have happened to the partially blind, diabetic, little Munchkin. While it has been a long time coming, it was still a sudden turn of events and it got me thinking about the pets I have had and lost during my life.
I have had a lot of pets during my life from cats and dogs to birds, goldfish, and a hamster. Heck, we even had a pig. While I enjoyed having each one of these animals especially when I was growing up, I had a particularly affinity for the two dogs that have come and gone. Those were the two that were particularly hard to lose and I still think about each of them from time to time.
The first was Laddy (also known as ‘Speed Bump’). This is the dog that I have written about before that completely lost the use of its tail (this was at the same time he became a barking speed bump). This was my first dog and I can still remember coming down the stairs in the morning and seeing him lying on the family room floor. My parents were away and my grandmother was watching us at the time. While she thought the dog was just sleeping we knew that it was time to call my uncle as that speed bump was no longer moving.
Hally followed soon after and while she might have seemed like Cujo to the little kids in the neighborhood, she was the nicest dog and always knew when I wasn’t feeling good or if I was in pain. Both times that I had my knee cleaned out I remember the dog following me around the house and jumping onto my, at the time, slim stomach as soon as I would lay down on the couch. Of course, the funniest thing was that during my healthier times when I would be running outside she would join me only taking a break to run over to the neighbor’s yard to take a crap. She wasn’t the same dog toward the end, which she seemed to know was near, and while it was sad I was glad to see her no longer struggling.
Now my parents no longer have a dog and instead have a cat with an odd obsession with concussions and an abnormal aversion to nature. She continues to live up to the name we gave her as a kitten, Nada, because there is little going on between those ears and behind that Scooby like expression. And while I do not have the same connection with this animal, it will still be sad when her single synapse stops transmitting.
For now we say so long to the little doggy that got my wife through a hard time without which we may have never met. He is no longer enduring his daily struggle and will now, finally, be able to rest. His worries are gone and my wife’s constant worries about his well-being can now cease occupying her mind. And with a baby on the way she will soon have another furry munchkin to love.