Thursday, January 27, 2011

Sick & Weepy J.D. Story

My boyfriend in college and I got a black Lab puppy, and we grew older together. The dog and me, not the guy. He disappeared to Japan of all places.
I'm home, sick with pneumonia and I'm feeling sorry for myself, so if it bums anyone, I'm sorry in advance.

He loved chocolate and beer even more! My kinda' guy. I haven't gotten another dog since. He died in my arms. It was so weird. For the last year of his life, his back legs didn't work at all. Degenerative Spinal Myopathy. So I carried him around or boosted him up holding his legs like a wheel barrel. Then, I depleted any savings I had, bought him one of those custom built canine carts. He was a dog on wheels! I use to decorate the thing for the holidays with ornaments. He wasn't embarrassed enough, you see. At first when I finally got the building, and measurement specifications right, I attached him......and he just STOOD there!! Swear, he would not move an inch. A full hour went by. I was freaking 'cause I just spent 1700.00 to get this thing built and shipped, and all I succeeded to create was a very furry statue. Wouldn't budge. Anywhoooo, I couldn't take it so I went to the kitchen and opened a beer, and lo and behold, I heard weird squeaking, like Norman Bates' Mom's wheel chair. Turn around, and there was my boy. Walked through 3 rooms for a sip o' the good stuff! He lived another year and a half after that.
Then one morning, I just knew. He put his head on my chest and gave a big sigh. And I KNEW! I called my Sis in a panic to get over my house. She had to leave work, so I knew it would be like half an hour before she got there. So I propped him up on my lap, and looked him in the eye and said, "it's okay Chowie (crazy nickname for him) you can go now, I'll be sad, but don't worry you have been the best son a girl could have, and me and Dad, and anyone that knew you loved you. For all I know, your Dad is dead and not in Japan too, and you can hang with him up there! (moment of levity, I apologize, but it's true).
My Sister arrived and came running up the stairs and I swear on my nephew, he raised his head, and let out a big sigh of relief, and looked me in the eye, and then he was gone. I literally felt him let go. He waited. He waited so I wouldn't be alone. And now i'm crying again like a big dope because it was so goddamn beautiful, and miraculous, and devastating all at once.
And I held him and smelled him, and my Dad rushed over, and picked him up to take him to the vet to be cremated. And I have a tin of his ashes. I sprinkled some into the water at the beach near my house, then took a road trip to Oneonta and sprinkled some at Gilbert lake. And I still have a little more. About a year layer I got the tattoo of his name with a paw print on my foot. I have others, I mean jeez, tattoos and private piercings are a staple of my existence.
I was in bed for 3 weeks. And when some idiot says "over a dog?" I want to pop out their eyeballs and stomp on them, because what do they know? Yeah dude, have more kids and ruin the planet even more - to fulfill your ego or because you think it's the natural progression of marriage. Ewwwwwww yuck.
So that is the story, and I've probably ruined your day, but don't be too angry, because he was so loved until the end.
And his feet smelled like Fritos corn chips, and that makes me smile, even now.

1 comment:

  1. that was a fucking awesome story.. really.

    you should write more.