My Old Friend

Those of you who know me know that I have a 14 year old Jack Russell Terrier named Dudley. I have had Duds since he was 6 weeks old. He and I have been through a lot together. In the beginning, I was a single mother. I would work and come home at lunch and let him out of his crate to run around and take care of his bowel and urinary needs. I would rush home at the end of the work day to once again free him from his crate. I would go out on dates based on whether or not the guy was worth sticking Dudley back in his crate during the time I’d be gone. Most of them were not.

Dudley was seen as part of the package when it came to family gatherings. My sister would bring her husband and her young sons for Christmas. I’d bring Dudley. Cousins would share a bed with their spouses. Dudley and I would spoon in my queen sized bed. On weekends, I’d schedule errands around his schedule. I wouldn’t want to be gone too long at a stretch. I’d make sure it wasn’t too hot when we’d go on walks or play with his racquetballs. I’d talk to him a lot. Sing to him (and change lyrics of songs to make them about him). Cuddle with him a lot. Worry and fuss over him. I loved, loved, loved that dog. 

When I started dating my husband, I worried that Dudley would come between us. Mike was not used to having pets in the house - much less a dog curled up in his lap or begging for food at the dinner table. After Mike met me, he confided to one of his friends that he liked me enough to where Dudley was not necessarily a “deal-breaker”. Not a deal-breaker? My sweet Dudley?! Let me tell you something, if anyone’s the deal-breaker it’s YOU! Dudley and I are perfectly happy in our little world and don’t need any disruptions to our little routine, thank you very much.

And Dudley did not like Mike at all, either. Their first few months together were just a disaster. I likened it to a teenager getting a new step-parent and pushing the boundaries with all the angst and resentment they can muster. That was how Dudley behaved. He’d growl and snarl at Mike and whimper so I’d think Mike had just struck him (which he hadn’t… that I’m aware of). He was extremely manipulative like a child would be.

You may think I’m exaggerating but picture this: These two hate each other and then we go to my parents’ house for the dreaded, “this is my new boyfriend” weekend of humiliation and Dudley spends the entire time IN MIKE’S LAP. That’s right. He was perched there every time Mike sat down. Now this was due, in part, to the fact that my parents had several dogs and he was trying to “claim” Mike as his. But it also made it seem to others as though Mike was exaggerating or lying about all of Dudley’s childish (doggish) antics. Thankfully, after a potentially relationship-ending encounter between Dudley and some not-quite-dry cement that Mike got blamed for letting him ruin, Mike and Dudley finally made their peace and actually became little buddies in their own right.

In fact, I dare say that Mike is now more of Dudley’s caregiver than I am. When I was single and used to have to leave him in his crate when I’d go to work, I would tell him that someday he wouldn’t have to sit in a crate all day. That I’d create a better life for him somehow. I felt such guilt about having to leave him in his cramped little crate. Enter Mike who is (or, was at the time) self-employed. Dudley now gets to go to work everyday and earn a living. Mike even made him Director of Employee Complaints. Who could complain around such a cute little face?  He was the office mascot.  And he and Mike got to spend all day together.

Dudley has always been what you’d call a high-needs dog. From a very early age, he had major separation anxiety. It got so bad that at one point he was Prozac – human Prozac – to try and calm him down. It didn’t even make a dent in his behavior, so I considered just taking it myself so I wouldn’t worry so much about him.

In his younger years, we went through a rough stretch where he was being regularly targeted and attacked by a menacing neighborhood mockingbird. If you’ve ever had a run-in with a mockingbird, you know their chirp immediately. They are aptly named – they truly do mock with their aggressive chirps. This one would fly over to a certain point on my roof and would watch him for a while and then swoop down and fly right into him Kamikaze-style with his beak. It got so bad that as soon as we would hear his chirp, Dudley would tuck his tail and run to me, begging to be rescued and taken inside. In fact, we went though a period where Dudley wouldn’t even go outside to relieve himself anymore because he was so frightened of being hurt. I contacted Animal Control who told me that the bird was probably just protecting his nest and that they’d come over and remove the next once I was able to locate it. Okay, I would think locating the nest would be something Animal Control would do. And anyway, I’ve seen the way this bird treats my dog. I’m not going to go try and piss him off. The problem ended when we left for a week on vacation (Dudley couldn’t come – rental house). I guess the bird got bored with no one to pick on and so he flew off to find his next victim.

So, yes, Dudley has always had some special needs. But, they were cute little quirks. Things that made him uniquely Duds. And I loved him for all of the trouble he was. I still do, although my feelings for him have been changing lately. He is now 14 years old which is hard to imagine as you watch him run, swim and play. He looks much younger and is in great shape.  But you are quickly reminded when he… say… pees on the bed. Or…just as an example….poops on the dining room rug so that you can smell a hint of feces as you are eating your savory meal. I know he probably can’t help it, but I already have two children. I don’t need a third one. And he now requires more care than I have the time or inclination to give him. And I feel so guilty for it. He has been my little buddy for 14 years and I am getting so annoyed with him these days.  It’s not his fault. It’s his age.

I guess it's his age.  but I do look at him differently now than I used to.  Where he once once the center of my universe he has become a burden to me.  Do I find him expendable because he’s old and no longer capable of things that he once was? My goodness - Is this how my kids will feel about me when I begin to age and become incontinent? Will they resent having to yell things to me because I can no longer hear? Will I get in trouble if I chew up the wooden blinds because I’m upset that I’m alone in the house? Will they be angry when I need a bath because I’ve rolled in something dead because it is in my nature to do so? Hopefully not. So why am I so impatient with Dudley? I really do love him and I will be crushed – a sobbing mess – when he dies. It will be awful. Mike and I get teary-eyed just talking about the fact that he won’t be around forever. To actually be faced with it will be excruciating for both of us.

When these things cross my mind, I feel guilty for being so intolerant of him and I’ll go and cuddle with him or scratch him or feed him a piece of something he likes. In the time he has left with our family, I want try and be sure he knows every day that he’s my little buddy no matter where he pees or poops. I’ve seen a lot of posts on Facebook recently where people have had to put their dogs to sleep after a long, healthy life. That will be me sooner rather than later and I don’t need to take it for granted.

Sorry to ramble, but I needed to express it. I needed to focus again on my love for that doggie. Plus, I got nervous that something tragic might happen to me and my last words to all of you would be a post about feminine odor. Thought this one was slightly more heartwarming.  Here's a nice quote for you:

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.
~Agnes Sligh Turnbull