Our Dawg's 87.5 Priceless Human Years

On June 25, 1999 I wrote the best check I've ever written.  It was for a dog adoption fee of $45.00 to the Anderson County Animal Shelter.  On that day I also purchased about a year's worth of shredded carpet, scratched doors, chewed crates, & $100 fee in damages to an apartment where pets weren't allowed.  Add to that fee 12.5+ years of numerous squeaky toys (a.k.a. "babies"), fur covered floors & at least six new vacuums, countless vet visits, surgery, antibiotics, beds, assorted treats, bones, bowls, and special food for changing dietary needs.  Above all I paid a fee for a true best friend named Mickey, priceless memories and unconditional love.  So, the old adage claims that you can't buy love, and I'm here to tell you that in fact you can.

Here's how that day went down....

My high school sweetheart, Josh, and I were entering our senior year at Clemson University.  We were fortunate to have lived in the same apartment building.  He was in apartment #1401, and I was in #1403, one floor up.  Prior to this point not only had we survived three years of college together and gotten engaged, but Josh had suffered traumatic injuries to his leg (he tore his perennial nerve and three of the four major ligaments in his knee).   These injuries and the multiple surgeries it took to repair them landed him on crutches for at least a year.  Surely this was a good time to add a clingy, uber energetic puppy in need of potty & discipline training to the mix.

I don't recall the impulsive conversation that led us to make the drive to the Animal Shelter, but I do vividly recall what we saw once we arrived.  I demanded that we check out the older dogs first, because in my heart I felt the most horrible for them.  We walked down the rows of caged seniors where I quickly fell in love with what must have been the two eldest dogs on the block just happily lounging in their cages.  Josh quickly led me to the puppies where the first cage we spotted contained the "Pet of the Week:  Mickey."  Of course Mickey was putting on quite a show for our attention, jumping up and down as if he was exclaiming, "Pick me!  Pick me!"  His food and water dishes were both knocked over, and I'm fairly certain there was some poo in his cage, as well as some shredded newspaper which must have served as piddle pads.  Of course he had a sister who had already found a good home.  Her name was Mallory - get it?  "Mickey & Mallory" from Natural Born Killers.  Oh, brother...certainly he was predestined to wreak havoc.

He was cute though.  He was black and so fluffy with a gray butt that appeared as if he had sat in paint.  He had these tender brown eyes that seemed as if they could read your mind.  He wouldn't stop licking us and panting leaving his sweet Puppy Chow breath in the air.  The gal from the front desk moseyed over to tell us that he was the only puppy that was fixed and "ready to go home today."  Ugh....

Was there any need to look any further - our heartstrings were being forcefully tugged by this little guy.  Of course, the next thing the gal says with a leash in her hand is, "Would you like to take him for a walk?"  Well, it was odd to me that this resembled a test drive.  If we like the way this puppy drives, maybe we'll buy him!  He was so stubborn on that leash.  He held it in his mouth, shook his head, and tried to steer us.  Josh and I laughed and laughed because it was so "cute."  Hmmm....we needed to think about this.

Upon returning him to his cage and explaining to the gal that we needed to think this through she politely let us go without putting on the pity.  As we walked to the car, I saw two dogs being placed into the back of a truck.  You guessed it - it was the two old seniors that I thought would make great pets.  Only this time they looked different - drugged.  Their time was up.

As I drove Josh's old pick-up truck away (Josh was still on crutches and had a large knee brace on), I broke down crying.  We hadn't even gotten a mile away, and I had to pull over.  It was an ugly cry, folks, full of snot and those sounds that make humans sound like seals.  Josh comforted me, and said, "Let's go get Mickey, and take him home."  Those tires squealed as we raced back.  The ladies at the front desk were laughing hysterically as we trampled in.  One of them said, "We knew you'd be back!"

One Adoption Agreement and a check for $45.00 later we were the proud new owners of the Pet of the Week:  Mickey.

Off to Wally World we went to pick up supplies, our first bag of Puppy Chow, a leash, and a bowl.  His collar couldn't come from there though.  That purchase required a pit stop at Tiger Sports Shop.  Our dog had to have a Clemson collar, of course, and he always has had one. 

Then, it was time to introduce him to his new home at Cedarwood Apartments (which we lovingly called "Cedarhood" - it was not exactly a lovely place to live, but for college students it was dingy perfection).  Josh's roommate was gone and wasn't going to be privy to this for a few days.  When he found out he wasn't happy about our impulsive purchase but even he grew to love this dog.  My roommate greeted us on the porch and said, "What have you two done?"

Oh, yeah, we had to introduce him to my feisty cat, Molly, too.  She's the reason he rubs on people for attention.  He learned that trick from her.  It was because of her that Mickey mainly lived out his college days in #1401 with Josh. 

He was one attention craving puppy.  My favorite example of this is the time that Mickey kept putting a toy in Josh's lap for Josh to throw while Josh was trying to read the latest John Grisham novel.  Mickey sulked when Josh refused to entertain his desire to play fetch.  The next day Josh returned home from class only to find the last half of this novel torn to bits all over the apartment, and in the center of it all was one smug pup wagging his tail.

He was also notorious for eating things he shouldn't, cat poo included.  "It's a delicacy to dogs," according to his vet.  While on a trip to a friend's family vacation home on Lake Burton, Mickey disappeared and when he was found it was discovered that he had eaten TWO whole bags of Wonder Bread.  The next Lake Burton trip Mickey severely injured a claw which nearly bled all night and made for a fun cleanup of the Lake house.

We somehow survived this itchy pup's first year, and I moved into what would be our first apartment as a newly married couple.  Before our wedding I graduated (Josh's graduation was delayed a semester due to the injuries which simmered down his class load), and graduation night we nearly lost our pup.  After my graduation ceremony, we had a nice lunch catered by family.  Josh's mom had provided a variety of pies, and my favorite was this awesome, homemade German Chocolate Pie.  Leftovers remained on the kitchen counter and in the fridge of the apartment.  Family left and Josh and I hit Tiger Town Tavern, T.D.'s, and perhaps one or two more of Clemson's finest watering holes with friends to celebrate four years of college behind me and a new teaching job right around the corner. 

Friends crashed with us at the new apartment.  The next morning we awoke to a horrible stench, piles of doggie diarrhea and doggie vomit.  A licked clean pie tin sat in the center of the kitchen floor.  No!!  Our puppy had eaten chocolate and a lot of it!  Josh immediately went to the Ingles across the street to rent a steam cleaner.  Our brand new apartment's carpets were really christened that night, and it's amazing that our puppy survived.  To this day I still can't fathom how Mickey reached the pie which was so diligently pushed way into the corner of the counter where I thought for sure he couldn't get to it.  Josh's poor brother and one of my gal pal's were kind enough to help us clean up the massive mess, all the while miraculously refraining  from vomitting ourselves.

12.5+ years, various jobs, SEVEN moves including the heat of south western Georgia and the tundra of Buffalo, NY, and two children invading his space later this dog is still with us.  He loves our children dearly, even when the tug on his tail or ears, and we know he would risk his life in a heartbeat to protect them.  His health has been deteriorating more steadily over the past year, and his arthritic hips make him somewhat less spry. 

I don't think he'll be able to jump on to kitchen counters ever again, but then again he has always amazed me.  This week he suffered what I thought was a stroke and the end of his life.  I found him in a state that I hope to never see again.  He's been diagnosed with vestibular syndrome and now has a tilted head and shifty eyes, conditions which may resolve in a few weeks.  For this reason, we couldn't let him go just yet.  He's still happy as he's still panting in our faces and still nearly knocking things down with wagging his tail when he hears or sees us.  We thought we were facing a nearly impossible decision this week, and we know that that decision is imminent.  In the meantime, we are holding out hope for a speedy recovery and using a hoist to assist him with walking since his equilibrium is still mighty off kilter.  We think he would want us to at least try everything before we hug him goodbye and say, "See ya later, old buddy dawg."

We can only hope we will have lived the life he's lived that surely gets him immediate entrance into the pearly gates.  He's taught us countless lessons on life, taught us to be calm yet encouraged us to be free, & he's managed to convey unspoken things to us with his eyes that let us know he loves us and he's going to be okay.  When leashed he's always been the leader.  He leads us.  We were destined to meet him, take him into our lives, to care for him, and to be forever blessed by the memories of him.