The Other Side

There's a place, Lil' Big Head, on the other side. Where the sun shines through the leaves and there's enough breeze that I can chase after my tennis balls for hours on end. But, the air is warm enough that if I want to paddle away in the endless lakes, I can do that to. Dogs aren't mean to me anymore. My body can run as fast as my heart wants to. And, if I get going too fast and tumble, I can bounce right back up like I used to.

I know things here that I didn't know when I was next to our mom. I know our mom is still sometimes sad that I am not there and I hate it when people ask her all surprised "you still miss him?" Duh! I was by her side every day for almost fourteen years, of course she still misses me. The other stupid question that I see makes her cry is "you replaced your dog?" Dude, no one can replace me. And, I'd be pretty ticked off if I were in your paws too. If you and I were different dogs, we might consider biting them, eh?

I know she sometimes feels guilty for not being sad as much as she was. Please give her slobbery kisses from me so she knows I don't want her to feel sad. I want her to think of me and laugh at my practical jokes. She also needs to go out and explore like we used to. I can see so many amazing places from where I am, I want her to see them and tell me all about them when she gets here. I can wait.

She knows a lot more now about us dogs than she did when I was your age. I taught her so much. Tell her I loved teaching her all that stuff and to never, ever feel bad she didn't know it then. I know she feels me sometimes. When the cool wind blows through the trees as you walk next to her, I can see her smile. She knows it's really me giving her big, sloppy kisses. I remember seeing her sad one night while she rubbed your velvet ears and you stretched and snored. I saw her lighten the next morning after I left all those heart-shaped leaves for her on your morning walk. And, I know she thought it was a mouse at first; but she figured out it was me tickling her feet every now and then.

I went to that awful place too, twice! Once a dog tried to attack me and our mom was able to get him away. But then a second dog came at me and he was faster than our mom. He nailed me right in my manhood. I walked into the emergency room; wagging my tail so much that blood flew all over the place. It sure would have taken more than that to knock me down. I went another time too when mom thought I was having a seizure. Her friends Sheila and John rolled me up on my bed like a taco and helped her carry me down the stairs.

You are so lucky, it's not that hot this summer. Our walks last summer were short because man, was it steamy. Sometimes people asked our mom how old I was. Then they would ask, "how long do they live" then look at me with pity. I see her make the same disgusted face to people who make a dumb comment about you being a Pit Bull. Our neighbor Paul had a Pit Bull named Harper, he was a really cool dog. He and I would hang out the yard with Bentley, the Whippet and our parents. All three of us were the same age. Bentley met me at the gate here and I got to see his dad Brett not long before I crossed the bridge.

Brett never looked at me with pity, I liked him a lot. Paul too. Paul used to say my name real loud and excited over and over, it made me so happy my tail almost wagged off a couple of times. And, even though I was old, I was happy. Our mom may have cried more in my last year than she ever did but she always looked at me like the strong dog I always was and it helped keep me happy. No need to be sad little puppy. I know the cone sucks but before long, it will be gone and you will be back to rough housing with all your dog friends again.

I may be here and there at the same time but it's your job now to protect her like I did. There was a time she and I were walking and this lady lost control of her two dogs and they attacked me. I didn't get bitten but it was scary and boy, were they loud. Every time they would lunge at me, I jumped away just for a second and came back to mom to make sure she was ok. My job was to protect her and now it's your turn. You take good care of her down there.

I used to know she was going on a trip by all the bags laying around. I loved going to daycare or to stay at grandma's house when she did. As I got older, her friend Candice stayed with me a couple times but mostly I went with her when she packed her bags. She stopped taking trips the older I got and I was glad to have her at home more. I can see she's planning a big vacation and you will be going to play with dogs. You have fun. I'll watch over her for you.

Love,
Finn

My Winky Hurts!

Finn! Buddy! Pal! I love it here so much. I get to do my two favorite things A LOT, play and snuggle. I could do both all day long. But, I have to tell you ya big lug, the past couple of days have been a little rough on me. I went to what mom calls "dirtball" camp and I couldn't really tell her or any of the other nice people I met that night whether I just licked myself a bunch in my crate before she got home or if it was my allergies but my winky was SO BIG and hurt so bad. You were totally right. Mom took one look at it when she was wiping me off like she always does and started picking up her hanging thing and those jingly toys that open the door. I heard her tell someone on that flat thing she yaps on all day that she didn't blame anyone; that I am "sensitive" and she's learning allergic to everything.

My winky burned so much that I didn't want to walk at all. She picked me up and carried me to the door but I still couldn't bring myself to walk. Mom carried me down all three flights of stairs and a block away to get me to our car. I just hung out in her arms and looked at her when she put me down for a second to let her know it hurt too bad to pee too. We went to this place and man, was it crowded. There were so many dogs but I just wasn't up to saying hi to anyone. This one guy there kept scratching me real hard on my head and telling everyone his dog broke his foot before then had to come back because he ate his cast. I don't know what a cast is but I don't think I'd like to eat it. I like beef and fish and that's about it.

Then, there were these nice ladies who spoke to me in Spanish. It made me so happy that I tried to wiggle for them like I usually do but it made my winky feel bad again so I laid down. It was not fun at all to lay on that cold, hard floor. I usually get to snuggle on the couch or our warm bed with all the pillows. I was so scared and cold that I was shivering so mom sat on the floor with me. It helped some but then another nice lady brought our mom a blanket for me. She wrapped me up like one of those burritos people like to eat and that made me feel okay enough to sleep a little. EVERYONE kept disappearing and it started getting quiet. I kept wondering what the heck I was doing there and why my winky hurt so bad.

These other sweet girls sat on the floor with me too some of the time. They both held my head in their hands and smooched me on the face, a lot. I liked it so much, I kissed them back. If I felt better, I would have danced for them. I rarely turn down a chance to boogie but last night, I was not feeling it. Those girls talked about their dog Zoe, I just know I would have liked her if I met her. The big, cold room was empty when some lady who looked real tired came out and said my name. Our mom jumped up. She was so happy and I thought we got to go home to snuggle but they laid me on a SUPER cold table that was way up high. They said Zoe had to stay the night, I let our mom know I did not want to do that. She hugged me real tight to let me know she didn't either.

The worst part was I had to go away from mom and they touched my winky with this wet thing. I yelped! It stung so much. Then, they left me, can you believe it? Did you ever go to such an awful place? I hope not! But, they came back super fast and said something about "pain medication". I woke up with this stupid thing around my neck and and my tummy felt so icky. Everyone looked blurry. I thought I saw mom but I tried to stand up, I fell back down again. I never wanted to feel like that again. I heard some stuff I couldn't understand and fell back asleep for while.

Then, there was our mom again. She looked tired. She carried me into the car, up the stairs and into bed. It was so awesome to be home. I fell right asleep. Boy, did I miss that warm bed! Mom started moving around so soon. But I just wanted to sleep. She let me stay on the bed until I had to go in my house with that cone. It sucked SO BAD! But, then my new friend Lela came over to snuggle, I like her a lot. She laughed at me before when I was playing with my squeaky toy and she's real nice. I liked being carried around so much that I was hoping mom would do it again when we went for our walks. But she said I was too heavy for that and put this orange thing on me that was big enough it would have fit you and used this handle so I didn't have to walk all by myself. It wasn't my favorite like playing and snuggles but it was cool to be outside again and see some of my doggie friends. No one seemed to notice my red winky and it's feeling much better.

I even got to say hi to the nice people on our walks this morning and chase my squeaky toys at the tennis court. My winky still itches a lot and I want to lick it so bad all the time. Mom won't let me. And, I hope I never have to go to that place again, ever. Our mom has been extra nice to me and giving me extra snuggles and treats so I wouldn't say it's all bad. I FINALLY get a break from that stupid thing on my neck! Gotta run and lay on my back for awhile before mom makes me put it on again.

LOVE YOU!
Gavin

El Diablo

Now it is easy to laugh about the excessive, naughty approach Finn used to engage with absolutely everyone when was a pup. And, when he grew to be my old, merry man; I was much more forgiving of the few times I was awoken to late night anxious barking in much the same way I would shrug my shoulders if my grandmother made an off-colored comment but I would gasp if my friends made the same remark.

I recall not long into my training career; Finn and I had were on a walk and the two of us were completely butting heads. My Lug had his mind set on eating every piece of half-eaten sandwich and other disgusting trash off the city sidewalks no matter how many times I told him to "leave it" and rewarded him for good behavior. The last few blocks of our walk; I was mentally drained and Finn seemed equally uninterested in engaging with me as I looked ahead; emotionless, counting every step towards our apartment. I unleashed Finn inside and found something to redirect my flustered energy towards while my Lug chewed on his bone. A couple minutes later, I walked over and curled up behind Finn on his bed, gave him a squeeze and expressed how sorry I was for getting so frustrated with him. My Lug stood up, huffed, walked away then came back to get his bone and took it as far away as he could from me in our tiny apartment. Finn gnawed his dehydrated cowhide with so much intensity, glancing up every couple of seconds; if I did not know better, I would have thought Finn was imagining his bone was my head.

Gavin has hung in there with our leash walks because I stop for fetch breaks; allow him to throw himself at his neighborhood dog friends or he gets to show off his cannonball skills as he shoots himself straight into the air at trees when I tell him "get it" but adolescence has turned my dreamy Lil' Big Head into El Diablo. Gavin and I were on our morning stroll and we started later than usual which meant I was unable to sneak us into the school yard for me to toss his squeaky tennis balls for him. Lil' Big Head races so fast towards all my clumsy tosses that I can see every muscle and ripple in his taut little body when his paws hit the ground thud after thud. I tried to let Gavin blow off some steam at the tennis courts but he had it in his giant head he was going to catch the balls then throw himself onto the net and roll around. Even though I kind of feel like a jerk for not adhering to the "No Dogs Allowed" sign; it is absolutely not cool for him to destroy the nets, so we left. As we continued our walk; EVERY single dog we passed was growling and lunging. So, of course, Gavin was not allowed to engage in his normal sidewalk canine romp fest. And, I recently had to refrain from letting him jump at trees because he was getting so fired up that he cut his mouth open while trying to grab on to the trunk; it is my job to keep him safe AND let him have fun.

So, without any outlets for Gavin's puppy energy, our walk was miserable and I told him with every step while he looked around at anything and everything but me. Lil' Big Head would pull, I would stop or take a couple steps back. Then, he would squeal like I was killing him and plant his paws into the ground, trying really hard to scale the tree or twist his head like he was engaged in an exorcism when we passed each aggressive dog. Gavin was whining and amped up and bit me in the butt during this whole scene. He had not done any puppy nipping since the first two weeks he was in my house so I screamed "ouch" and looked down at him with shock and horror. This dastardly walk came on the tail end of a couple days where I would tell him "sit" and he would stare at me and lay down or mumble in protest and race around the house like he was possessed. Our last night at Trick Class; I knew he was not going to be the star performer as I had endured four days of complete butt-head behavior and I guessed right, he spent half the class turning away from me.

While I have made conscious effort not to expect Gavin saunter next to me on walks through our giant

neighborhood parks the same way Finn did; I have had a couple exhausting weeks. In hindsight, the same time Gavin hit adolescence; I inadvertently began walking slower than we had been. I naturally did so for the past few years to accommodate aging Finn; of course it is my default but I sure miss those reflective, relaxing walks. There will be some major tightening of the house rules and I will do better by my El Diablo puppy by giving him his daily dose of crazy play so we can get back to leash walks not being a constant struggle. And, while Finn's version of chasing a squirrel up the tree was stomping his grey paws at the roots with his "gnarr, gnarr, gnarr" bark to let the little vermin know he was a bad ass; I have to use toys and games to give Gavin the outlet he needs so he does not turn into satan dog again trying to protect Chicago streets from squirrel invasion.

Lil' Big Head and I arose ridiculously early yesterday morning to get in our strict training routine which I rewarded with an insanely intense game of fetch. Then, we went for the fastest long walk we have taken in weeks and it was delightful. He was happy, I let go of some my pent-up stress and El Diablo fell fast and peacefully asleep when we came home.

Friction

"You don't heal from the loss of a loved one because time passes, you heal because of what you do with that time"-Carol Crandell

I received a message last week that a spry, young female dog was in need of some short-term tender loving care in a home environment. When things like that are thrown to me, I say "yes" when it is at all humanly possible because I find comfort and healing in helping others. Gavin was over the moon to have another dog in the house. Lil' Big Head was racing from one room to the next with his OMIGOD face; "this is where we drink water and OMIGOD, you are here. This is where I want to wrestle and I have to pounce on you now I'M JUST SO EXCITED and OMIGOD, chase me now. WEEEEEEE!!!"

When Spry Girl Dog was in her crate and Gavin was not; Lil' Big Head was like a lovesick teenager, sitting by the wire door with pleading eyes then rushing to my side with a more desperate look as if he was saying "PLEASE let her out to play" with one silent, meaningful glance. I needed two seconds to go to the bathroom here and there and did not want the two knuckleheads to eat my couch. Spry Girl Dog's stay ended a day later and when she had to leave; Gavin laid in her crate by the door and looked up at me with the saddest look I have ever seen on his face. He laid his head down on her fleece blanket and sighed a hopeless and crushed breath; I was certain Lil' Big Head was broken-hearted that his dog girlfriend could not stay forever.

But later that night, Gavin walked up to me on the couch and just stared. A soft, uncertain look towards me but not directly at me; his sweet face was lost. I invited Lil' Big Head to join me so we could snuggle and he did not leap into the air towards the couch like he normally does. Instead, Gavin creeped up next to me and lightly, warily nudged his head onto my shoulder. And, I realized that he was not in the crate because he was sad to see Spry Girl Dog leave but, he thought he was going to leave. I have no idea how many dogs Gavin has seen come and go in his life and previous homes but I do know he is a very sensitive little guy. He made that trait clear the first day we tried to go for a long walk, poor Lil' Big Head was absolutely certain the airplanes were coming to kill him as he threw himself to the ground every time one flew over us. I hugged him tightly that night and told him that I promised he was not going anywhere. And, though I'm sure all he heard was "blah, blah, blah, blah", something in my tone must have given comfort because he oozed towards me then flopped onto his back, I heard "pfffffttt" and held my nose as I chuckled. His farts are deadly.

I would never wish a bad experience on anyone. But, I do believe when you comfort a dog and show him that you will be there; with your own special language, understood between just the two of you that it strengthens your love for each other in a way that makes the fun, silly times even more marvelous. I used to say that I was not sure if I would have appreciated Finn as much as I did if he were not such a

juvenile delinquent nor if he had come into my life at a different time. When I rescued Finn, I was absolutely devastated about a miserable breakup with the man I thought I was going to marry and found the most amazing healing of my heart in taking care of my Lug and nurturing his puppy soul.

Years ago, Finn and I were at Hamlin Park, playing fetch, is there any other game? When his brisk pursuit of his favorite neon yellow toy caused him to ungracefully hit the grass in a mish-mash of paws, tail and ball; I heard him yelp. When my Lug tried to stand up, he kept tumbling to one side and I could see he had torn the ligament in his knee, again. I reached for my phone to call my neighbor to come get us, recalling that I left it at home. So, I carried Finn seven city blocks; all 80 pounds of him at the time and not one person driving down Belmont Avenue stopped to offer us help. A dog of dignity, Finn never fussed when I picked him up and clumsily walked a couple steps then, as gently as possible, put him down again for a short break. The trip felt like it took forever, but as miserable as it was for me and I am certain not enjoyable for my Lug; he gave me gentle kisses on my cheek every time we stopped for me to catch my breath.

Now I know to appreciate how carefree I am when I watch Gavin play and crash towards his ball or another dog then bounce right back up and run again. I never want to take that for granted. And, while I would never wish for Finn's absence, or the hole in my heart left by his passing; I have tremendous peace knowing that when lightning and thunder charge through the Chicago sky, Finn is not anxious or suffering and Gavin is snoring and farting the storm away.

The above photo of Finn was taken by Rhonda Holcomb, photographer, animal lover and good human extraordinaire.