Dogs

I have forever been a "dog person". As a young child we have pictures of me with my fingers up a dog's nose. The neighborhood dog in Mississippi was named "my friend doggy" (I was very creative as a young child). My brother, who is older than me, would send me in front of him to discover whether a dog was nice or mean and I had no problem running right up to them....I do not encourage this, although I was never harmed.

My family's first dog even bit me because I was trying to hug him as he ate his dinner. Even with this "traumatic" event I never knew dogs were anything other than wonderful- but my parents still got rid of him. The first real family dog was Maddie, a golden retriever.

This is her probably a year before she passed away (sorry it's not great quality). Maddie was perfect and neurotic. She was loving, calm, and sweet. She was also terrified, mortified, disturbed by thunderstorms. Maddie would absolutely freak when she heard a thunderstorm- she would literally tear down doors to get out of enclosed rooms if she heard so much as a drop of rain. I will admit that when Maddie was a little, round, adorable puppy I was also terrified of thunderstorms- I was in elementary school no mocking allowed. I used to be convinced it was my fault she was scared of storms.

She would burrow under your body to try to hide from the lightening- we even got her sedatives at one point because she would go so nuts. But Maddie was perfect and I'm standing by it. I would bring her back in a heartbeat. She lived with us in three states and she was a big part of our family. As she got older she developed epilepsy and then, we think, a brain tumor. She started having extremely violent seizures that also scared the wits out of her. She would go in the garage and pace for hours after a seizure and then finally calm down.

When I was visiting my parents in Texas she had another seizure and- as normal- we let her in the garage to pace and she just never got back up. We had to put her to sleep the next day and it was horrible and sad. She was eleven years old. Due to this I have some kind of freak issues with seeing dogs hurt. I am not a person who cries about much. I never cry at romantic movies or sappy books- ever.

Well that is until I read/saw:

Although our Maddie was not the "world's worst dog" in any way this book made me cry, OK weep. When I finished the book I was driving home, from Atlanta, with my brother and I remember saying, "I'm going to start crying now, don't be concerned" and he proceeded to look at me like I was crazy while I wept in the passenger seat. Then I saw the movie with my mom and I was like a babbling crazy person weeping next to her. I mean its weird- I never cry like that.

I am really dreading the day I will lose my babies (yes I am aware I call my dogs babies). I admit I especially am worried about the day I lose this one:

because I have had her since she was this cute and cuddly. She was mine and General, well, I never saw him as a baby. Worse than anything is the fact that my dog's breed- Bernese Mountain Dog- only has an average life expectancy of seven years. How is that possible?? I need twenty years minimum with her! She will already be three this summer!

At least I know that I am marrying someone as obsessed with dogs as I am, and we will never be a dog-free home. The bad part of this is that I will have to watch many furry members of my home pass away throughout the years- but they are worth it, neurosis and all!