On This Day- August 16th... Junior Comes Home

Butch was dog #3. He came to us as an orphan, as they all do. He was 4 years old when he joined our family & we only had 9 years with him, not long enough.

Butch was a serious & stalwart little dog. In 2004, he broke his foot, but never complained. We never would have known, if we had not noted that one foot was 60 degrees turned outward. Butch was spirited & spry in his squirrel patrol, but in all other ways he was calm & composed canine.

We loved Butch beyond all measure & although his passing was sudden & swift, we grieved deeply when he went to doggie heaven. I still have never really recovered from the loss.

Butch & his Dad, July 2007

I waited an acceptable 3 days before orphan #4 joined us at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia. I had told myself that I was open to another dog & I would take my time to find another deserving orphan needing a home. But, there he was on Craigslist in my first minute of searching. The post told the sad tale: in the countryside, outside of Portland, the little Jack Russell mix had been tied to a tree with a lead of rope, for a year. The trucker who had him would bring the young dog food & water, but not much else. A neighbor of this pitiful puppy, explained to me: “Out in the country, we don’t tell each other what to do with our animals, but I just couldn’t take seeing him every day, all alone, with no love & no activity. So I dognapped him & I need for someone to take him fast so that I can take down the Craigslist post & not get found out.”

I emailed this animal savior, telling him that I was at home & I would meet this terrier. I said yes to the dog staying with us on first glance, even though the first thing the little dog did on arrival was vomit.

For the first 36 hours, I thought that the new terrier might have escaped, but then I would spy him out of the corner of my eye as he skittered around the edges of the back garden. On day 3, while I was sitting in the Boys’ Fort, the dog cautiously approached me & laid his head on my knee. I looked down at him & started to speak, but he was gone in a flash. But, the next approach lasted longer, & the next longer still.

He came with the name- Junior & we decided that was a name that was fine by us. He had been through enough in his first year of life without having a name change, the only one of the 6 dogs that we have shared our lives with to not be christened with a new moniker. Junior. It fit him.

The poor Husband has never had a say in the choosing of a dog. Starting with a terrier mix by the name of baby in 1985, I have brought each of them home, often with no discussion. I mean, I don’t rearrange the furniture & he doesn’t choose the children. The Husband has been devoted to & delighted by each of our orphans.

Only 3 days after Butch’s taking leave, Junior was a part of the family. Like Butch, he is strong & stouthearted, but unlike Butch, he is a little slow. I see so much of his predecessor in him, but of course, Junior is his own animal.

Junior started life living outside with no comforts & no attention. Now he sleeps on pillows & is reminded that he is loved every day. Junior has been a member of our family & a resident at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia for 5 years today, August 16^th. 

All Dog Stories Have The Same Ending

Larry Dog

1998-2011

It is a heartbreaking, crushing sensation to schedule your dog's death, but that is what we had to do. One could think that I would be somewhat hardened by experience, having had to schedule the endings of 2 other dogs before him. Only Butch (1992-2007) went suddenly. It was a blessing. The horror of scheduling Larry's demise was that everything was a "last": his last Thursday, his last Friday, his last full day, his final "last call for potty", his last cookie.

Larry, like so many animals & people in our lives, was an orphan. To be fair, Larry was much loved by his original family, who decided to give him up because he was nipping at the toddler. Jack Russell Terriers, cute though they may be, are not the best dog for a household with children. They do not have the patience of a Lab or Golden Retriever, having their tails pulled & being rode like a pony.

Larry's first family were distraught over the choice of giving him, but relieved that he was going to a terrier keen couple who would provide him with a loving home with lots of walks & lots of cookies. Larry would be our 4th terrier.

Larry was the Eric Cartman of canines (I hope you understand the South Park reference): entitled, perpetually petulant, food obsessed & sassy. He would actually grumble under his breath as he walked across the room. Larry was as tenacious as any terrier I have encountered. We were initially timorous at his ultra-terrier comportment, often stubborn & selfish. His original family stopped to visit him once after had been with us 3 years, & we were shocked that he behaved as an angel dog in their presence. When they left he immediately started to swear under his doggy breath: "god damn it, ggggrrr... give me a cookie & let's get back to the business of making me fulfilled, you gay daddies!"

Larry was not an affectionate dog, but he had his tender moments. He was very sweet on The Husband & The Husband would start each day with about 15 minutes of tummy & ear rubs & kisses with him, but soon Larry would have enough & he would give a huff of exasperation, saying to us: "I hate this mushy stuff. If you truly love me, you would give a caboodle of cookies!"

Lulu is our 6th dog in our 32 years as a couple. I surmise what it must be like to have several children. You love them all, but you love them differently. Larry was very different in personality & presence from the other 5 dogs: Overweight, hairy, spoiled, outspoken, lazy, & foul-mouthed. I know what you must be thinking... Larry seemed to be the perfect dog match for me. Junior is thin, sensitive & damaged by his past, making him an excellent match for The Husband. But Larry was very loved by me, especially loved by The Husband & amusing to our circle of friends.

Like those before him, we had the doctor come to our house so that his last moments would not be in a sterile, brightly lit room. He was in the home that he loved to be in (Larry was loath to go outside, if he could be inside on a pillow). His daddies had been crying for days. The past 8 weeks, Larry's hind legs no longer worked. We would carry him outside to pee. He would go about the house dragging his hind end, using his front legs only. He looked like a big dust mop.  At the end Larry was often not able to let us know that he needed to go out & we were left to deal with his "accidents" for several months.

Why do I feel the need to still convince myself that we are doing the right thing? Why is my heart so broken?

Good-bye, Larry Dog. You were loved. I will always think of you, you will not be forgotten. Give your buddy Butch (dog # 3) a butt sniff when you cross over to the other side. He has been waiting for you.

2006

Butch is in the background

Before he got too old, Larry liked to be king of the hill & sat atop the furniture.

His best friend was The Husband. Here is reminding Larry to wear sunscreen while tanning.

Junior Has An Anniversary...

Junior is our 5th dog. The poor Husband has never had any say. I bring the dogs home. I am never even considerate enough to grant a discussion. I know that when he sees the dog, the Husband's heart will open up & he will be unable to resist their considerable canine charm. Not fair, huh?

Junior came to be with us less than a week after our most beloved dog- Butch had died. Larry the dog was depressed, & we have usually had 2, so I started poking around, thinking a new dog would come to us at some point in the next year. It only took a few days. We were wrecks & inconsolable after Butch's end, but I was taken with the story of the little Rat Terrier who had been tied to a tree with a lead of rope for the 1st year of his life. I am a sucker for a canine hard luck tale... or is it tail?

Your host, napping in the Boys' Fort, is joined by Junior

I acquired him & spent a few hours trying to get close to him, to no avail. I left for work with a note on the door for the Husband- "His name is Junior. He is very shy. Be careful that he does not slip out. We will talk when I get home." The Husband could not have been happy,  he was changing his clothes as he read the note. From inside of our glass front door, he looked up to see the little terrier on the outside of the front door. To the Husband's horror, Junior started to run, with the half undressed Husband in pursuit, worried about the dog & furious with me. After a great deal of effort, he was able to catch Junior corned on a neighborhood porch. back they came to house & Junior has never tried to escape again, & the Husband has only tried on the rare occasion.

The first 4 days that he was here, Junior was just a blurr out of the corner of my eye, as he skittered away. I often thought that he had found a way out of the back garden, & then I would see in my peripheral vision, a streak of white go by . On day 4, he approached me very cautiously. While sitting in the Boys' Fort, acting like I didn't care one tiny bit, Junior slowly came to me & put his head on my leg.

That was 3 years ago today. Little Junior came to live at Post Apocalyptic Bohemia. The Husband loves him dearly. Junior is a sweet, special & a very simple little dog. He spent his 1st year tied to a tree out in the country. Now he lives in the city & he sits on pillows & sleeps with his daddies. I sometimes wonder how the Husband would react if another dog should "happen" into our lives. I have many photos of Junior. These are all from this summer. It is 95 degrees today & that little terrier is sacked out.