AUTHOR: ARTSY CHOW ROAMER

When You’re a Dog Person

LOSING YOUR BEST FRIEND

If you follow me on social at all, you know what a dog lover I am and what my animals have meant to me over the years. I haven’t posted in awhile because I have been working through the grief of losing another one of my besties. As I have told many people, my dogs are the children I never had.

They say you shouldn’t treat an animal like a person-it’s confusing to them. I call bullshit on that. 🤷‍♀️ I think dogs are a lot smarter than we ever give them credit for. I know mine have been. I hope you will bear with me on this post as I share the stories of my little buddies with you. I’m still grieving but I also want you to know the joy that sharing your life with a dog can bring.

MEMORIES FROM CHILDHOOD

As I think back on my childhood we did have a few cats. I particularly remember Rusty; a long haired Persian named for his orangey coloration. He used to use a paw to push on a faulty screen door that never closed fully to make it bang so that someone would know to let him in.

He hilariously would exhibit cat crazy tendencies by standing back to watch my sister’s cat eat only to walk up and use that same paw to pull the bowl away from him so he could enjoy it all by himself. He felt he was above the every day cat that was my sisters - to the point of snobbishness.

Still and all, I have to say I never really was a cat person. They are just a little too…if you know what I mean; too snobby, too cool, too independent and too cray cray-ever apt to jump off high spaces onto the top of your head in the middle of the night. 🤣

THE FIRST OF MANY

Our first dog was a black cocker spaniel named Pepper. He is the first dog I can ever remember having. He was with us at the old house and made the move to the new house. He was gentle, sweet and loving; happy to see you under all circumstances unlike cats.

The perfect companion for children, he ran beside us while we rode our bikes up and down the streets of our neighborhood. He used to sing (read howl here) every time the train came through and blew it’s high pitched whistle down the street from us.

He laid in the sun on summer days in the long green grass while we swang on the rope on the big willow tree. He ran down the hill to explore the creek in back of our property with me while I caught all manner of fish, crawdads, lizards and more.

He was included in any wagon fun we might come up with when playing stagecoach with one of our older sisters who liked to pretend he was a horse! 😂 Always an outdoor dog, our family never seemed to consider a dog might have a life indoors with the family. I have not one memory of him being allowed to come inside and sit on the sofa with us or play on the floor.

I would eventually come to think of that as odd. But then those were different times right? Before it became an industry and we knew how to better care for our furry friends. Pepper would make the move to the new house where his little doggy chalet was placed right outside the family room door to the carport.

HE AIN’T HEAVY-HE’S MY BROTHERS

That house would be where Pepper would start to turn white around his muzzle. He would be unable to run with us and started to only walk down the driveway to return to his house to sleep. It would turn out to be a heart problem that would require more and more trips to the vet to drain the fluid from his ever more frail body.

My father would return from one of those trips without him telling us a sad but untrue story of his demise that we would carry into adulthood before we learned the truth of Daddy having to put him down. I would not know the horror of such myself until much later in life.

An older sister visiting from out of town would bring a new spaniel pup for my brother Todd. He was blonde with the biggest paws anyone had ever seen even though he was the runt of the litter. Patches would help raise my brother- exploring the cemetery, the woods, the bike paths and the streets of our sub-division until he left for college.

A neighbor would give him a bone one night after dinner that would get stuck in his throat causing Patches to beat his head on the garbage cans outside the door to try to release it from his throat. My brother would scream for my Mom and Dad’s help which would cause them to come running.

My Dad performed the Heimlich Maneuver on him to save him as that bone came flying out his mouth. While we practically threatened death to that neighbor for giving him the bone she would continue to do so nearly killing him again later. Patches would end up with hearing problems and loved to lay down on the warm pavement of the busy street outside-it would be his undoing.

LITTLE COLLEGE BUDDY

I went away for my first two years in college. The first year I lived on campus in a dorm. The second year I moved into a house with two room mates. I was lonely and missed the animals from my youth. A boyfriend bought me a miniature poodle from a less-than breeder.

I didn’t know much about that then. This was the first dog that lived inside with me and I set up a little utility room as his area. I knew less than nothing about house training a dog and was not very successful at it creating quite the mess in the house. 😬

I took that dog everywhere with me including a sewing class where I got involved and let him fall off the desk onto the floor. I am fairly convinced that perhaps that injury caused him to develop epilepsy shortly down the road. I don’t know it for sure as poodles are prone to that disease and it just could have been bad breeding but I felt guilty nevertheless.

I would end up transferring back home to finish college and had to give Champaign to Mom and Dad honestly thinking I would get him back one day. I never did-he became their best friend-especially my Dad. He was the smartest of dogs with my Mom marveling at his capacity to understand 35 different commands.

He read the paper every night with my Dad, got down on the floor and exercised with my Mom and became the light of their life until he died from a grand mal seizure that broke my Dad’s heart. He lovingly made a headstone for him and buried him in the backyard at their house where he still resides to this day.

OUR FIRST SCHNAUZER

I met and married my husband and one of the first things we did after moving in together was to look for a dog. He had lovely luck with the terrier breed and enjoyed his Westie, Buggie, very much but he had terrible skin issues so we decided to try a different breed.

Enter our first schnauzer who was a salt and pepper that we named Rampal after the famous musician Jean-Pierre Rampal. He loved barking at his image in the glass thinking it was another dog. He ate his poop before we got him appropriately trained! 😝

He loved what I referred to as light gardening and reading (read digging in the house plants and tearing up magazines and newspapers here). Turns out he was a most excellent singer. No really…he sang in a different way then Pepper did with the trains although I suspect it was for a similar reason-ambulances just set him off. But sometimes you could get him to do it all on his own if he felt like it that day.

We never had his ears cut which is only done in the states anyway. Europe leaves the ears alone on the breed and Rampal’s flopped down in such a cute way. He was a handsome quiet dog who was born old if you know what I mean. He was so nice that a lady schnauzer named Grace (after Princess Grace of Monaco it turned out) used to flirt with him on walks all the time.

RAMPAL HAS A SON

The owner of Grace decided she wanted to breed and asked if I would consider doing that if we got a baby from the litter and I said yes immediately. Grace was sweet and fun and ran circles around Rampal. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with her but we let them do their thing in our butler’s pantry and Grace had three babies; two girls and a boy which were promptly named Stephanie, Caroline and Albert.

We took Albert who would become known as Peillon after a little French town we stayed in on our honeymoon right above Monaco which seemed to work out perfectly in that French sort of way.😍 Peillon was a little devil by comparison to Rampal; yappy, wild, energetic as only a puppy could be.

Those ears stood perfectly straight up giving him the appearance of a bat. His salt and pepper coloring was so much more distinct than Rampal’s. As a pup I trained him to come running to me and jump into a towel, my arms, a shirt-most anything. These two would become world travelers with us making trips back and forth to Europe while we worked on a hotel project in Prague.

I made the mistake of leaving them behind with a friend’s daughter who house sat for us on occasion. She would break the rules and take the two of them out of town to visit another friend. She let Rampal get away from her while trying to secure their leashes and since they were in unknown territory he took off. By the time she got to him he had already been hit by a car on a busy road.

I never forgave her or myself for leaving them behind. It broke my heart to lose my sweet Rampal over such a stupide mistake on both our parts. It made me much more protective of Peillon and I would never leave my animals behind with anyone again. It would be several years before we considered getting another dog to keep Peillon company who missed his father terribly.

JEAN-CLAUDE VAN DAMME

One day while walking in the park we came across a lady walking a white schnauzer. It was so unusual I stopped her to ask and make sure it was a schnauzer. I thought it was so pretty that I began searching for one and found one from Tennessee. The breeder met us at the halfway mark between the two states with two white brothers in hand.

I have no idea why we didn’t take both that day but we took the one that seemed the most active and promptly named him after an action hero with a French name. It was very appropriate. Jean-Claude or JC as we began calling him was an action/adventure dog who took particular delight in chasing down fast moving children-nipping at their heels and butts.

He was the yappiest of our animals barking at kids, mailmen, delivery people-most anyone really. He is the only one of our animals to so annoy my Dad that he took the newspaper to him one day trying to break him of his barking habits. He and Peillon were a handful together getting into trouble causing us to crate train for the first time so he could be sent to his corner for punishment.

My brother’s children would just laugh when I would hold JC on his back and vigorously scratch his belly causing him to pedal his feet madly in the air to show his joy for belly rubbing. He was a good sport at Christmas allowing us to turn he and Peillon into reindeer of the first order. Peillon was so scared of the antlers that he would shake causing the bells to jingle merrily.

I was so happy I had JC to concentrate on the day I took Peillon in for a vet check up. He had been slowing down and showing his age more and more. He couldn’t keep up with JC anymore and he suddenly became picky about his food, refusing to eat on some days. He had developed a cough with what was at first thought to be pneumonia but would eventually be diagnosed as lung cancer.

I bought everything under the sun to get Peillon to eat even resorting to filet mignon from Whole Foods at one point. The butchers knew me well and were amazed at what I would spend trying to find bits and pieces of interesting things for my sweet little boy but it was soon apparent that it was time to consider putting him down. As is common with sick animals and humans-the body makes one last heroic effort to throw off the illness and they seem better for a short time.

We took Peillon to our mountain home for one last weekend because of such only for him to have a terrible night-unable to sleep-throwing up. By morning he was much worse as I sat outside in the sun with him for the last time. He died quietly on the sofa a short time afterwards of pneumonia from aspirating some fluid during the night. Another sweet boy gone over the rainbow bridge leaving his peeps devastated and sad.

JC’S EYES AND HEART

At one point I was helping a friend by working with her in the vet hospital she was running because she was having a hard time keeping employees. I learned a lot about the different breeds, training and illnesses that dogs can suffer from. I also met my vet that I still use today in Dr. Bob Springer. He was smart, empathetic and practical in a way I had not experienced before.

It was him that would diagnose JC with a heart murmur telling me we would need to keep a good eye on him as he would most likely need to be on heart meds at some point. I got serious about keeping his teeth clean in order to give him the best situation with his heart. He also began to have problems with early developing cataracts that would need surgery in order for him not to be blind for a good number of years-most likely associated with his white color and the genes required to breed for that color.

It would prove to be an expensive success with lots of drops and specialist vet visits. But we were happy we decided to do it so he could enjoy as many good years as possible. Slowly he began to develop a cough and I got worried because of what I had experienced with Peillon. But JC was beginning the signs of needing to go on the heart meds Dr. Springer had told me about. As congestive heart failure set in sometime later my little buddy would just faint after doing much of anything.

He slowed down so much during these times that we rarely left him if we could avoid it. If he couldn’t stay with us we would board him close by to spend time every day with him. One morning I let him out and he came back in and fainted for the last time. I placed him on the sofa to recover like usual but he simply opened his eyes and slowly quit breathing as his heart gave out. Broken hearted again with the emptiness of the house and missing my best buddy-I wondered if I would ever get another dog.

A TINY RESCUE

Right about then a little gray miniature poodle was brought in to the vet by a teary owner. She felt sure her pet had cancer and she dropped her off for an assessment visit with Dr. Springer. Doc said she obviously had been used as a breeder dog many times as she had a low hanging belly with lumps and bumps all around her nipples. He didn’t feel like she had cancer but no way to know for sure until surgery was done.

The owner never returned for or even called about her pet. The phone number we had on file had been disconnected and we waited the required 21 days legally necessary to figure out what to do with her. At first another employee laid claim to her but I noticed he wasn’t spending time with her or feeding her so I started doing just that.

Within a week Tiny was absolutely stuck to me like glue. She had been so friendly with everyone until I began caring for her and then it was me and only me that had her wagging her tail and giving me hugs. Doc said “well I guess that’s it….she’s going home with her new Mom”. I was so glad when we were released and I signed an adoption rescue form to bring her home.

She was so used up by her owners that I couldn’t wait to get her cleaned up with a better cut, a bandana and a cute bow. Dr. Springer took her with him to a clinic he volunteered for and gave her a tummy tuck and removed the troublesome bumps and lumps where necessary. She was so beautiful and like a brand new dog even though she was a senior at eight years old.

One of the other vets asked me why I was taking her when she probably wasn’t long for this world but I made it clear that it didn’t matter how long she had, she was going to enjoy what time she had left with me and I would be spoiling her rotten which is exactly what I did for eight years.

I had so many boys that finally having a girl made for buying the cutest clothes with bows with pink scarves and carry cases. She was a little prissy in the way she walked and loved dressing up. She went everywhere with us in that pink case drawing attention and smiles. My Mom and Dad adored her being reminded of Champagne with how smart she was. Her personality was just exceptional and the longer she was with us the better and sweeter she got.

TOPO GIGIO

I was working at the computer in the vet when a lady came in with a small cage holding an ugly scruffy looking little dog that was eaten up with fleas. She said she found him digging in the trash looking for something to eat and she had been unable to locate his owner. She said she was a cat person and couldn’t keep him and a rescue group would be picking him up later in the day from us.

I said OK and took him to sit with me in the exam room where I was working. By closing time the rescue group still hadn’t come to pick him up and I was supposed to follow the new vet rules and turn him over to the local humane society. I did not follow what I thought was a stupid rule and took him home with me that night.

My husband was not happy about that but I told him I thought maybe my mother and father or my older sister would take him. They did not and I am so glad I took him that day and we kept him. I got rid of the fleas, bathed him and groomed him noticing he had a broken ear. This reminded me of a toy I had as a child and I promptly named him Topo Gigio after the little mouse on the Ed Sullivan show.

He was positively wonderful from the get go. A Yorkie mixed with a Silky begetting a Sorkie. Smart as a whip, fast enough to catch squirrels and full of personality and curiosity. Brave enough to stick his nose in any hole and dig out whatever was moving around, he was the perfect companion for Tiny after she taught him who was boss first.

Being fixed later in life made for a randy little dog who still wanted to hump everything. This guy was also a talker. He would get to the highest point of any situation to be able to see what was going on and he would make soft noises to get your attention or ask for food or water.

We knew Tiny had seen some violence in her home environment as we accidently made like a gun with a garden hose one day and she nearly went crazy barking and trying to bite the hose. Topo had a similar reaction to anything violent on TV or even raised voices-he did not like it in any form. The vacuum cleaner and sudden loud noises would set him off as well.

EXPLORING THE WORLD

Topo and Tiny were world class travelers going on planes, trains, buses, boats and cars. There was no trip they weren’t ready for and their behavior was beyond reproach-quiet, easy and gentle with no accidents or problems. Prague was the last big overseas trip we took with both and they were a hit everywhere we went. Topo’s top knot instantly intrigued a group of Japanese tourists and they all patted it for luck and called him a Samurai.

We rode all around public transportation in Europe and drove to many smaller towns including a spa in the Czech Republic. Even they welcomed the kids with open arms leaving out biscuits and water every night after turning down our beds. Our friends made it easy for us on that trip supplying us with a pet friendly apartment with an outdoor patio for exercise.

Those years with our two rescues were some of the best dog years we have ever known. They supplied endless amounts of unconditional love along with the fun and laughter of having two small kids with big personalities. Both wanted to be the center of attention at all times and it was like having two comedians locked in fierce battle.

Tiny would never get cancer as they suggested…but she would start to develop the same heart trouble that took JC. She began taking the same medications and could not go for very long on walking. We bought a dog carriage and kept on traveling using it as her legs so she could continue to share in the fun. She died quietly in my arms on the same sofa as Peillon and JC in our mountain home after a trip to the beach and a dinner that included her favorite-fried chicken. It would be the month of loss with my father passing the following month from the same heart problem.

TOPO & MR. PIGGY

Topo seemed somewhat lost at first after Tiny died. It took a bit for him to get used to being the only one, having no one to cuddle up with in the dog bed or run outside to explore and pee with. I kept giving him stuffed animals to have as buddies and they were very good substitutes because at least they would allow him to hump them where as Tiny would growl at him! She was the alpha dog.

Topo would make a trip to Merida, Mexico with us and my Mother, hanging out on the patio, tubbing and even venturing over to Progresso for a day at the beach. He enjoyed the busy streets in his carriage with shopping, gallery hopping and stops for snacks at local bars and restaurants. He was always welcomed everywhere we went.

We also jumped across the pond with him for two weeks in Ireland. We made a circle around the island traveling from Dublin to two different castles as well as side trips to Galway, Limerick, Tara, Trim and Sword with a stay outside Adare at the Mustard Seed. We hiked, walked nature trails, toured whiskey factories and chased the ducks and birds in public parks. Our last night was a dress up affair and Topo was all in putting on his tuxedo for a little walk and dinner in the hotel dining room.

For Christmas one year I bought Topo a little pig we named Mr. Piggy. It became his bestie sleeping with it, carrying it around, humping it and dropping it at your feet to throw for him. He adored that pig and caused much laughter from all who have watched him play with a stuffed animal like it was his new found pack. My Mom would get down on the floor and throw that pig over and over for Topo trying to wrestle it away from him and delighting in how fast he could zip away with it clutched tightly in his mouth.

Because he was a rescue we never knew for sure how old Topo was. You can usually tell with the mouth but his breed has problems in that regard so it was just a guess on the part of Dr. Springer. A series of things happened looking back that started to point to an older dog than we had thought.

He developed a problem with bladder control. Then his eating habits changed and he became picky refusing some meals all together. I was back to trying to coax one of my babies to eat. A trip to the vet and some blood tests revealed Topo was in renal failure and his liver stats didn’t look great either. We tried a run of antibiotics just in case but I began the difficult process of trying to find things he would eat.

Dr. Springer didn’t expect him to last a week and told us not to take him on our planned trip to Europe. Topo managed to give us two months with him and we spent every waking minute we could including a trip to my mother’s to say goodbye. When he wouldn’t eat anything and was too weak to interact with me we took him to be put down outside with the sun shining on his face as he loved. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I have had days and days of depression and grief.

I put his collar and bandana from that day on Mr. Piggy and he has now been my constant companion ever since; helping me to bridge the empty house and days while staring at Topo’s ashes on the mantle. I miss him so much I dream of him at night and my husband asks the next day if I had a bad dream as I was crying out in my sleep.

CONCLUSION

I have had dogs throughout my marriage and every time I lost one I felt such devastating sadness and profound grief that I almost couldn’t get through it. I almost couldn’t get another dog for thinking about how bad it is to lose one. You just don’t know if you can put yourself through it again. But every time I did I found a different love with a different personality in every pick.

I found unconditional love and acceptance from a living thing that never judges or finds fault. They are happy to see you under all circumstances and comfort you when they know something’s wrong. I can only remember raising my hand in anger one time to Topo in all the years I had with him-to keep him from thinking it was alright to try to bite another dog. He instantly was chastised to the point of running and sitting in a corner-ashamed and as soon as I said it’s OK-he came running back wanting hugs and kisses.

Dogs are simply so much better than people most of the time-don’tcha think? I have found them to be anyway. They have been both the children I never had and the substitute for friendships I never wanted. I just didn’t have the necessary patience for either but I did for my dogs and they loved me every day for it. If you get the opportunity to rescue an animal-do it. They are forever grateful and know what you did for them and you will be rewarded in ways you couldn’t begin to dream of.

This post is dedicated to Topo Gigio:

Fashionista

World Traveler

Mr. Prissy

Smarty Party

Sweet Baby

Attention Seeker

Lover of Bacon

Bestie to Mr. Piggy

Catcher of Squirrels

King of Napping

Lover of boops, nose bumps and kisses

Mornings were for singing and dancing, afternoons for car rides with our faces in the wind

Purse trips were a perfectly legitimate option to walking

Belly rubs and hugs-yes please

Villains and violence would not be tolerated

Vacuum cleaners and leaf bowers will be bitten

There will never be another like him

RIP-I'll see you again one day 😥❤

If you liked what you read you might enjoy other posts under Just Because. You never know what I will write about under that category but if you’re here for the art, food or travel you can also check out posts on that here. Until next time…

Cheers!

ArtsyChowRoamer

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