Man’s best frien

Fule for Thought

 

One Friday, sitting at BP’s (which I believe on “Schooner Night”… is the Costco of beers!) I got to thinking of dogs. For the most part, they have a pretty good life. That is, if they are paired with the right owner. This thought also came to me as I was trying to get that urine sample from my dog behind my house. Following him around saying: “hurry up” was bit embarrassing. We used that term whenever we tried to train Brodie to “go” somewhere. It worked, but we discovered you really have to change your choice of words when the family IS in a hurry! If you’re trying to rush your daughter and use HIS command, it could cause a little accident! Anyway, as Brodie was both filling his little vial, AND soaking my hand, I wondered which of us WAS the master!

When I was a kid, we got our first dog, Rusty. He was little orange/white Border Collie/Mutt and he had an unusual problem. He always chased his tail, no matter where we were, or what was happening. Sometimes, he’d nip it, and if you were in the “splash zone”… you got hit with some blood spattering! It WAS kind of gross! I read an article lately that talked of dogs actually suffering from “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,” and that tail chasing, was one of the symptoms! Nowadays, Rusty might’ve had meds, or a doggy therapist … but NOT in 1971! Rusty went with us on all our adventures … and two other dogs wound up adopting us, as well.

In the early 70’s, Canmore was much smaller and had fewer by-laws for dogs … they pretty much ran free in town! Our cousins had an old Shepherd/Lab cross who only understood Hungarian. His owner was my Hungarian uncle, whom you may remember delivered his whiskey still to my house! Now, when I say Budri understood Hungarian, I mean Hungarian commands were given to him as well as any disciplinary words. For example, if my uncle told Budri that he was a “rossz kutya,” his ears would go down and he’d bow his head as if in trouble, because those words translated, mean “bad dog.”   

My pals and I never used Hungarian on Budri, and that could also be why he liked us all so much! Budri discovered us later in his life … he began to come over and tag along with us from about 13 to his last year (16). Every morning, he would howl and cry to be let off his chain, so he could run across the street to our place. Then he’d join us on whatever adventure we had. We’d ride bikes to Exshaw, cross the Bow River in shallow areas, and all the time this old dog would be happily barking as he trailed us. Sometimes he’d be almost a block behind, and I’d either wait, or double back so he wouldn’t be alone.

Somehow in his last year, he broke one of his back legs. It was such a clean break that it never seemed to affect him. We must’ve been a strange sight: three or four guys on bikes with three dogs running along, the third one a block back, with his hind leg swinging freely as he ran! It WAS a gross sight, but he was still very happy. I never really knew what happened to Budri, we were only told that he had to be put down. We had offered to take Budri, but that wasn’t an option. I was very sad to lose a good pal, who had gotten a “second wind” and found joy hanging out with my friends and our dogs.

My kids had talked me into getting a dog in 2000. I had tried a couple of puppies before, but a combination of allergies and a fear of responsibility, made me return them. I still regret making my kids cry over the loss of a puppy, even if we only had him overnight. And to be honest, I was panicking about keeping our present dog, too. I’m not sure if any of you have had this happen, where the responsibility makes you feel overwhelmed? Luckily, Debbie made me keep him, and now our “puppy” is almost 13! 

This is the time all pet owners dread. We start to see changes in our pets, and they aren’t the same. Brodie has a tougher time on stairs, has to be lifted up onto a couch or bed, and his night vision is worse. In fact, on one of our “hurry ups” outside the gate, he panicked because he couldn’t find me. He ran around sniffing and looking. Then when I called him, he rushed to me, shaking.  So … the end is not far off for my best friend. We have to prepare, as he may have Cushing’s Disease, and we know he has another large crystal in his bladder. The saddest part for me, is that I struggle to enjoy our time together. I’m often sad when I am with our dog. In a sense, I’m already grieving, and I have trouble enjoying the “now” of Brodie. Last week my daughter asked that if we have to put him down, can it be done at home? She said he shakes at the vet, and he gets scared. She wants him to be with us, all his toys, and at his home when it happens. Sometimes things like this make a parent proud … that you have a child who cares so much about something that depends on us. Give your dog a “pat” on the head for me … I know I’ll be giving Brodie as many as I can.