adding to the pack

I have tried to resist. I have tried to talk some sense into myself. I have tried to convince myself that we are better off financially and obdigation-wise. I have tried to divert my attention.....But somehow all I have wanted to do since Freckles' death is get another dog.
I realize that the last two years of his life, he was a major head-case that needed not just some deep emotion empathy and redirection, but hard-core antidepressants. His seperation anxiety after the death of Jeff, followed so very quickly by my beloved dog, Eli, was more than his big heart could bear. And although, at times, euthansia seemed the only solution for his window frame destruction/light switch removal/door knob denting/etc., I miss having him around.
I had contacted a woman about purchasing a puppy from her at the beginning of next year. We had chosen a golden retriever whose mother was imported from Germany. It all was so perfect and full of coincidences. The breeder is a younger widow with two children living on a farm. We had decorated a jar with pictures of puppies and started to save for the purchase of the puppy and its' initial vet bills. I was being responsible and logical about the process of adding another member to our family.
But, really, my heart is far from logical. I think probably even moreso since the death of Jeff. When something feels right, I do it. I do it with gusto and just hope that even if my actions yield horrific results, I have learned something in the process thus making the experience valuable.
As I perused the adds on our local used site, I was struck by an add containing a sweet and forlorn-looking german shepherd cross puppy. After speaking to the woman who had him, I felt completely compelled to see him. I told myself, "We don't have to get him. I can just go see him, pet him and be on my way if it doesn't feel right." But, alas, as soon as I set eyes on him, had him in my lap and felt his kisses I was struck.....with puppy love. As I watched how comfortable he was with Briar's loving and at times, overly playful misinstrations, I fell farther. When I watched Liv's face filled with contentment as she stroked the puppy's fur as it calmly laid in her lap, I was head-over-heels.
So two days ago, we headed out to pick up our little guy. He's going to be a big guy as he is german shepherd, husky, leonberger cross.
We've named him Caleb.
So far, he's been fabulous. No chewed up shoes. One accident on the rug. Lots and lots of snuggles and cuddles.
And even if he does do something.....puppy-like, I will remind myself that although Eli was the best dog in the history of mankind, he once ate a pound of butter as a puppy....and barfed it on the floor. And really, he is too small as of yet to detroys curtains, door knobs and other household structures as Freckles did....And he's not fast enough yet to kill a chicken. ;)
I am smitten.

uses for a dog

I come from a 'non-dog family'. It's not that anyone in my family dislikes dogs; it's more that they don't....know dogs. Dogs are seen as more work. Work to pay for their care. Work to clean up after. Work to pay attention to.

Growing up, I wanted a dog so unbearably I would have shovelled literal mountains of their 'lawn chocolates', gone into child labour at a toxic plastics factory to pay for their kibble or stolen someone's beloved canine from their fenced yard and claimed that it followed me home willingly just to spend a few hours pretending this dog was 'mine'.

When visiting my father's parents, who were dog-people, I'd walk their black, toy-poodle, Cindy, with my tiny chest puffed with smug pride. I'd rejoice when a passerby would stop to ask questions about this tiny pup. Pretending Cindy was mine made me feel loved. I could imagine, almost taste, what it would feel to be so very loved by an animal.

I gloried in tales about all things canine. I studied dog-care books, poured over novels with pet puppies hidden in their pages and put myself to sleep fantasizing about having one of my own one day.

When I became an adult, one of my first actions was to find a dog for me. I wanted one who needed me as much as I needed him. I found Eli. Not once did I ever regret having him in my life....not once. When someone would suggest that my life may be easier if I didn't have a hyper, energetic, furry dependent to care for as well as myself, I would teeter between annoyance at the misunderstanding that this dog was perceived as 'not my family' and smug humour knowing that they did not understand the love that this dog fulfilled in my heart.
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Years later after Liv had been born, Freckles arrived on our doorstep. Our attempts to find his true and original owners failed. We offered to foster him for the SPCA until his 'people' showed up....They never arrived. During this time, that silly blond worked his way into our home and our hearts. He was forever at our heels...or stopping in just the spot you intended to walk. He filled a hole we didn't even know was waiting for him....even if he chewed that hole while we were out.

Now, for the very first time in my adult life, I am without a canine companion. In the last few days since Freckles passing, I have noticed all the things that a dog is 'good for'. I've realized that although he occasionally often drove me nuts, Freckles was always on my mind. Dictating the time we were needed at home to let him out. Determing how many plastic bags lined my pockets to pick up his 'deposits'. Causing me to fall back to sleep reassured when I've heard a strange noise in the night.

Tonight as I picked up the wayward dinner dandruff off the floor for the first time in 17 years, I mentally made a resume of sorts for a household dog:

Career Objectives

To obtain 'employment' in a warm, safe, active and well-fed pack

Skills

Security - Not only can I alert you to any out-of-the-ordinary occurrances, I can protect you should the need arise. Just as you protect me from the elements and from starvation, I will protect you from any harm that I am capable of fending off.

In my presence, you will feel more comfortable and secure. You will know that in a room of judges, I will find you innocent no matter what you have done.

Sleep-Aid - My soft snoring throughout the night will assure you that all is well. When you rouse from your sleep to get a glass of water or check the locks, I will accompany you. You will know that if I am asleep, all is well.

Maid - Although some of us do have moments in our lives where we display our joy or discomfort with acts of destruction, most of us earn a portion of our keep by joining the clean-up crew. If a portion of your meal, be it a plateful or a measly crumb, drops to the floor, I will clean it up without any insistence from you. In my presence, you will never have to tidy up the baby's attempts at a career in food fighting. You do enough for us, I'll take care of it.
Heater - Whether the power goes out or you get stuck in a snowbank, I'll be there with my warm, wiggly body to keep you comfortable. I'll reassure you with my warm kisses that it'll be alright, because we are together. Nothing can hurt us, or freeze us, with me at your side.

Clown - I have a fabulous sense of humour. You may not be laughing as you turn to see me with my four paws splaying against the slippery wood on the dock with the last reachable line clenched between my teeth as the boat floats three metres from the pier....But you will later.

Counsellor - Over our time spent as a pack, you will unfortunately have to deal with some form of heart ache. I take it as my personal quest to be your confidante, counsellor and shoulder. I will tell no one of your humiliations, failures or heartbreaks. In fact, I will view each one of these episodes as triumphs. In my eyes, you can do no wrong....ever.

Expected Wages

In payment for my devotion, loyalty and love, I ask for only a few small things in return. Food, a bed, companionship and love. I am willing to share these with you - I am the sharing type.

The work that some complain of in the care of a dog is really in their own heads and of their own preference...I couldn't care less if you clean up my fur. It actually makes the floor softer. I don't mind if there is poop in the backyard - It IS outdoors afterall! I know that you will find that you may want to take care of these issues....I'll keep you company, I promise. It's the whole lack-of-opposable-thumb-thing that is hindering my abilities. Don't hold my disability against me, please.....

**This post contains photos of all the dogs in our lives....Although Eli and Freckles are gone to be with their 'daddy', the rest of our furry friends are alive and well to play with when we can. Thank you Cedar, Rufus, Diesel and Gangster for your licks and loving! We love you right back....

goodbye, my friend

Yesterday afternoon, Freckles went to be with his big brother and his 'Daddy'. We will, and do already, miss him.
Even in such illness and pain, he managed to thump his long and hairy tail a few times for each person who entered the vet clinic as we waited for his turn to be released from his body. He was a true lover of all.
His constant companionship has been such a comfort. Although I have found immense annoyance in his special way of displaying his sadness with the loss of Jeff and Eli, I am surprised to find that I also found solace and respect in his choice to do so. He did what I have been unable to do. He effectively protrayed his pain despite anyone's else's discomfort or raging anger with the execution of this portrayal. That takes balls... (which he no longer had, I might add). Although I don't feel that I have the luxury of falling to pieces with each and everyone of this home's occupants relying on me, he fell to pieces for both of us and announced our sadness and anxiety.
I find that in the loss of our sweet boy with not a single bone of mean in his body, I am afraid and cannot sleep. Since 18, I have always had a dog to hear the sounds outside after dark for me and announce something out of the ordinary needing inspection. And although Freckles would have assisted any burglar in his transportation of any valuable items from our house, I do not believe he would ever have allowed harm to come to his children.
It seems that the noises in the night that I had always just assumed were of the large and furry variety, and as such, provided me with some comfort of not being alone, were not the dog. The house feels empty and soulless. The kids and I haven't gone downstairs asside from letting the chickens in for the night. Liv used to insist that Freckles accompany her to the basement (or bathroom, or outside, etc...) to assuage her little fears of burglars and bogeymen. It seems that I will have to now escort her to every bathroom visit or romp in the backyard....Unfortunately, I won't be able to do it so unquestioningly or patiently.
Damn it, Freckles! First you destroy the house, then you wreck your body and now you leave a hole in our hearts...Damn it.
I do love you.....and I so hope you know it. You're a good boy, Freckles. You're a good boy.

i dream of Eli

My dreams have been rife with tragedy lately. Dreams of fire, earthquakes, burglars, scary things.....I often wake with the stink of fear still clinging to me and my heart pounding in my chest. But through all the terror that these awful dreams have wrought, I feel an iota of comfort. Eli has been there. He ran with me from a fire in the basement of an old house that I couldn't find my way out of last night. A week ago, he growled and snapped at thieves that were breaking into the house to steal photos of Jeff. He helped me dig a hole....Okay, this one I can't understand, but he was helping me dig.

The security, safety and lack of loneliness I felt was intensely comforting. I know he was 'just a dog' and most likely would scoff myself if reading this elsewhere....But he was my buddy. We had been through all the most important things in my life together and we trusted each other.

When Eli and I found each other, I was ending a long and abusive relationship. Eli had been surrendered to a woman I knew who worked with the homeless. He had been abused too. He was head shy and jumpy, but SO wanted to please.

He stuck to me like glue and was more devoted to me than I knew a dog could be. He never strayed. He never wandered....unless it was to follow me covertly into the grocery store without me knowing a few paces back.

He was OBSESSED with the ball...or a bottle cap or a rock or log. Anything he could pick up became fodder for play. He'd drop it in my lap while I was deep in conversation and stare expectantly at me. Often, it was annoying that I could take him to the beach and play for two hours after our almost daily 5 km walk and he would STILL want to play. As he got older and we both grew less active, he still found huge joy in fetching anything he could get his jaws on.

I knew everyone of his sighs, grunts and barks. He knew by my body language if it was time to snuggle or time to make himself scarce. I knew he hated it when people wore sombreros. He knew I hated it when he chewed cedar chunks into smithereens (doesn't mean he'd stop, however).

He was aloof with those he didn't know and I loved that he couldn't care less about the existence of other dogs....as long as they didn't try to snake his ball.

I miss him. I long to have his rough coat to pet absent mindedly as I watch tv. I yearn for the comfort of knowing that he would warn me of anything out of the ordinary or hearing the rhythm of his breathing in the dark.

Admintedly, I have been browsing ads for dogs needing homes. I realize that I can't financially afford another addition to our household and that I have chicken, door knob and garbage eating, overly enthusiastic, fur machine another dog But I stare longingly at these furry creatures and wonder what a life containing them would be like. I know that I am maybe searching for Eli and I won't ever find him, but I also feel that I am looking to repay my sweet boy's years of love and devotion by offering a warm, safe and loving home to another big furry heart in need.

I miss you, Snoopy Headed Dude. You were the best dog anyone could ever dream of and I'm glad that you are there in my nightmares to comfort me. I love you, my boy.