Spike is 11

Spike has made it to his 11th birthday… there have been times when I wondered if he’d meet an evil end on the road by now, but thankfully he is safe and well.

He was such a cute little pup. We got him on a Sunday afternoon and by the next weekend he would get out of bed and walk all the way down the hall and into his ‘pen’ in the livingroom to go to the papers for a pee. I was amazed the first time he did it as he was so small and the distance so great. He loved to play with his toys but never wrecked any of them. I just threw a couple of his baby toys away because they were scruffy but they weren’t otherwise damaged. He didn’t like Bella or Kabira touching them though! Perhaps because he knew they’d make mincemeat of them. He still has a few favorite stuffed toys. He never did like rubber ones though.

Every morning he hangs around until I tell him “Gosh, my feet are cold”, and then he runs down the hall to the bathroom where I’ve left a pair of socks. He runs back just as fast with a sock dangling from his mouth, just one though, so I tell him to ‘bring me the other sock’ and he dashes away. Of course this earns at least one treat, usually two. It never fails to make me laugh.

I still have a few Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown programs on the PVR but even though I love the program it is taking me a long time to watch them. I have to be in just the right mood because as much as I enjoy them I get a sense of loss and disbelief. I try to see in him the reason that he was unhappy, but it isn’t obvious and I wonder if I could miss it in people close to me, or even myself. I can’t really believe that he is dead and don’t want to. Would my feelings be different if he had died of a heart attack or other natural death rather than by suicide? I feel out of balance and mixed up when I watch but at the same time I can’t get enough.

My little dog - a heartbeat at my feet.

~Edith Wharton