Essay On Why I Should Get A Puppy Solving Motion Problems
He was seven years old by then—a middle-aged dog—but he high-stepped down the beach, his ears thrown back like he was a puppy. He never was well-trained but he’s a skilled communicator. Sometimes Alix and I will be in bed, talking through something important, and all of a sudden from the corner of the room comes this long and deliberate exhale of profound boredom.
If you’re good to a dog, pretty much every day for the dog is a great day. We rubbed off as much sand as we could and piled him in the back seat, and he slept all the way home. No matter how serious our conversation is, it makes us laugh. Alix’s folks are not especially dog people, and my mama has been scared of dogs since she got bitten as a child. My mama even started tossing him little bits of bacon in the kitchen. When he started getting really old, it didn’t register with me right away.
We hope to remember what he has taught us: *** THREE WEEKS after I wrote the words above, Fred passed peacefully as the sun went down on an autumn Thursday.
Alix and I were by his side, along with the amazing Dr.
Now in his last days, arthritis has made it harder for him to get down, so he backs into a corner and sort of slides down on the bed. We spent a year in Boston and it snowed 60 inches that winter.
Nearly every night for 14 years, one of us let him out before we all went to bed. It’s most likely one of two cancers, both malignant. And even if it works, the specialist said, he’s not likely to make it to 15. At the time, we lived in a house in Derita with a long driveway. When Fred wandered off, Rocket would come back down and stroll into Fred’s line of sight. Finally Alix and I figured out a trick: We’d get the car and drive to where he’d wandered. Back then, there was nothing he liked better than a car ride. But some dogs are alpha dogs, and Fred is an omega. Once we took him to a dog park, and three or four other dogs jumped him right when we got inside. He was OK, but the rest of the time he was there, he went off by himself to the far corners of the park. We were all walking around with holes in our lives. We walked back to our house, and about halfway up the drive, I looked back. The cat, Rocket, would let Fred chase him and then head up a tree when he got too close. After Rocket died a year or so later, Fred would chase a cat now and then, but he never tried hard to catch one. Every so often he’d get loose and take off, exploring the neighbors’ backyards. He’d look over his shoulder at me and trot just out of reach, like Rocket used to do to him.I’ll take him outside on a beautiful night and he’ll just stand in the yard and look around. They make you deal with death and loss before you’re ready.It got me really frustrated until I realized the problem: I was mad at him for dying on us. Alix and I are having a hard time imagining a life without Fred, but we’re going to have to live it. I read somewhere that it’s a hard-wired memory from the days when wild dogs tamped down the grass before they slept. Every year he wilts a little more in the summer, and every year he perks up in the fall. We had a big storm at the old house one day, and he dove in and out of the snow like a dolphin. We had our vet check more than once for a splinter or an infection. He spins around six or eight or 10 times before he lies down.We’ve spent so many nights standing in the cool air on this street we love, staring at the stars, listening to the neighborhood owls, or just watching Fred prance around the yard and catalog the smells. I didn’t know what to do on that first night without him, so I walked out in the yard and stared at the stars and thanked him again for coming into our lives. One thing I hope is that we’ll be able to sit down and have a conversation with Fred.Have him tell us why goose poop tastes so good, where he really liked to be rubbed, whether we did right by him at the end. We took him to puppy training a couple of times, but the main thing he learned was that people have treats in their pockets. He ate about as much plastic as he did dog food in those days. After all that trouble, we thought we deserved at least a fart bubble. They’d poop all over the walkway between our back door and the carport. One day we came home and found the top half of the bucket chewed off, the snake sprawled on the floor, Fred dancing in the garage with glee.