The day you have to say good-bye to your dog

It's a much more difficult day than you ever thought it would be.

This is the same dog that has been trying to kill me by tripping me on the stairs.  This is the same dog that emits odor that can clear a room.  This dog has been constantly under foot.  But, even I loved this dog.

I remember the day my husband and son convinced me to get a dog.  I finally said, "sure, we can have a dog, but it has to be a Jack Russell Terrier."  I said that because the show, Frazier, was very popular and it had a cute dog on it.  I thought that dog would be difficult to find.  They found a dog and bought it and brought it home within four hours.

Then we had a dog.  (this was the first and only dog I have ever had in my whole life.)

Jack Russell's aren't the calmest of dogs.  This dog kept us prisoners in our own home for years.  The second our dog, Chet (the jet), would hear someone walking towards the door he would anticipate that door opening and streak out the door and run.  And run and run and run.  That dog could run.  One day my husband was chatting with a neighbor.  The neighbor, Warren, said that one day he saw a deer running through the back yard.  Right on the heels of the deer was Chet.  Warren asked my husband what he thought that Chet would do with that deer when he caught it?  Chet had no fear.  None.  He was a little dog with the soul of a lion.

Another trait of the Jack Russell is their ability to jump.  Chet could jump.  Until recently, there was never a time we could have a guest in our home that Chet wouldn't jump and jump and jump.  We just couldn't train it out of him.

Chet was pretty bright, for a dog.  He could do tricks to earn his dinner.  He could sit up and stay.  He could play dead after you said "bang".  And he could roll over.  He wasn't much of a fetcher.  He would chase the ball, get it, but he'd never bring it back.  That's just the kind of dog he was.

When I think back of all the things I loved about Chet, I smile.  I remember that pink spot on his nose from where he wore the black off from pushing the basketball around and around the yard.  I remember having to thaw meet in the microwave instead of on the counter.  I didn't have to turn the microwave on, I just had to have it behind a locked door because Chet would jump up on the counter and eat the thawing meat right out of the package.  I remember learning not to leave the leftover Thanksgiving turkey carcass on the counter because Chet would jump up and grab it for an after dinner snack.  I remember the look of pride in his eyes when he would drop off a dead bird on my doorstep (ducks included).  I remember how my husband would give him a voice and tell me all the things that Chet was thinking.  I remember how my son would smile and feel the love of a dog when finding friends at school was tougher than it should have been.

And now there is a tiny grave in the back yard.  I know I'll feel better about this in the days to come.  I know it was his time and we didn't steal one day of his life by making this decision.  He died with dignity.  But, I'll miss him.  (and there are a lot of people that will be surprised by that)

Jack (my son) and Chet

Bill (my husband), Jack, and Chet  (last pic of Chet)

552.  I can exhale
553.  We could hug each other and support each other over the loss of this pet
554.  I know my son and husband will find joy in life again
555.  Rotisserie chickens will always remind me of Chet
556.  Tomorrow will be a better day

My dog is trying to kill me

There are so many things I'd like to write about.  I'd like to rant about the people complaining and hating on Kirk Cameron for criticizing homosexuality and gay marriage on Peirs Morgan's show.  He said, ”Marriage is almost as old as dirt, and it was defined in the garden between Adam and Eve. One man, one woman for life till death do you part, so I would never attempt to try to redefine marriage. And I don’t think anyone else should either,” Cameron said. “So do I support the idea of gay marriage? No, I don’t.”  So GLAAD is slamming him and friends and fans are distancing themselves and calling him a hater.  Of course this is his opinion.  Piers knew this would be his position.  Why is anyone surprised.  Kirk hasn't been double minded on this issue.  And he's not a hater.  Conservative christianity is not a hate group.

I'd like to write about Rush Limbaugh and Sandra Fluke and the "slut" sh*tstorm.  What a surprise.  Rush said the American tax payer does not want to pay for her birth control.  The government should not subsidize her sex life.  Rush said, "What does that make her?  It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute. She wants to be paid to have sex. She's having so much sex she can't afford contraception. She wants you and me and the taxpayers to pay her to have sex."  I know it is utterly surprising that Rush Limbaugh made an inflammatory and provocative remark on his own show.  I'm stunned.  *not*

I won't write about any of that.  I'm going to write about my dog.  I have a dog.  His name is Chet.  He is very old in dog-years, but I don't know what dog-years are so I'll just say he is 15 years old.  He is a Jack Russell Terrier.  He is trying to kill me.  He's been trying to kill me for the last 14 and a half years.  So far, I've been smart enough to out wit him and avoid death.  I have been injured, but not fatally.  He has a few favorite methods.  The methods mostly fall into the category of stealth operatives.  His favorite is to lay on the third step down on the staircase.  He usually times it for laundry day when I am toting baskets of laundry up and down the stairs.    He prefers to lay on the third step from the top of the staircase just before I am ready to carry the basket of dirty clothes down the stairs to the laundry room.  He's a clever one, that Chet.  Fortunately, I'm still smarter than a dog, but I'm afraid my day may be coming.

Another of his modus operandi is to stay very close to my feet while I am cooking.  He prefers to be nearby during times I am chopping with a very sharp knife or carrying a pan of boiling water to the sink.  He is crafty and manages to get underfoot just at the moment I am walking the knife or boiling water to the kitchen sink.  He's been known to bunch the small throw rug in front of the sink into an alternate obstacle for tripping.  This way he can get me coming and going.

When he was a younger dog he made his attempts for my demise by pulling me into traffic during walks.  He usually waited until we were near the end of our walk and he knew I was tired.  He would take his opportunity and YANK me into oncoming traffic.  I survived.  I was injured a few times, but not fatally.  Now that he is up there in dog-years he has developed a new method to try to kill me.  He has developed the ability to emit the stinkiest gases known to man.  They are released from both ends of his body, sometime simultaneously.  It is truly his most effective weapon thus far.  I sometimes wonder if I should take him to a vet because this odor is effective in clearing a room of any living creature in three seconds flat. Chet has a, seemingly, unending amount of these malodorous airs about himself.  And, it seems, he can produce them at will.  This odor can cause gagging and watery eyes.  Seriously, the government could use it as a WMD if they could bottle it.

I have a dog.  I never really wanted a dog.  My son and husband REALLY wanted a dog.  So, I have a dog.  I know I won't have my dog for much longer.  Sometimes, when he is sleeping, and he sleeps almost ALL the time, I wonder if he's still alive.  I know I'll be sad when his time comes.  I'll be sad, but I'll be safer.  :)

31.  Sunny days
32.  Spring-like weather
33.  Farm fresh veggies
34.  Essential oil diffuser for my office
35.  Pink grapefruit essential oil
36.  Pink grapefruits

Don't let this cute face fool you