In 1995 on a little farm to the south of the city I live in a litter of puppies had been born. I had wanted a dog for sometime and thought it would be a learning experience for my children to have one. I was fully aware that I would be the primary care giver to this pup, feeding, walking and cleaning up his messes. So I called the lady advertising them for sale and explained that while I could not afford the amount she was asking I could give the dog a good home.
She agreed to let me have a pup as there were only 2 left. Thus the elder of my two sons and I drove out to this farm to pick our new family member. We met the two remaining pups, one a male and one a female. The female was the runt of the litter and in my eyes not as healthy and robust as the male. We chose the male. He was named Rocky.
There was the usual adjustment period while he settled into his new family, crying at night for his mom and siblings. He was a fearful pup right from the start not wanting to venture too far from the house. He was also a one person dog. He fixated on one person and everyone else was either tolerated or growled at. His alpha pack leader was me.
He potty trained quickly and learned all the basic commands but usually only obeyed them from me. He tolerated my kids but hated my husband. He was the type of dog that did not appreciated being petted. In fact if you gave him a stroke on the back as you were walking by he would get angry and growl. We came to call these drive-by pettings.
As he grew it became more apparent how little he thought of humans (excepting me). He was by no means aggressive or dangerous he just preferred that everyone else keep the heck away from him. He was exuberant with his displays of affection for me. If I left the house for even a half hour he would race up and down the stairs in happiness on my return. I think if he could have gotten just a little more speed into wagging his tail he would have become airborne like a helicopter.
And speaking of his tail he loved to chase it. Even in his later years he would spin until he caught it often falling over in his attempts. He would do anything for a slice of white bread. He loved white bread. Peanut butter did not hold the same status as did a slice of white bread. He was not food oriented but white bread was special. If we said, "dance" he would stand upright on his back legs all for a morsel.
And then in 2000 my granddaughter was born and Rocky found a second person to love. He adored that child and allowed her to do things to him he would tolerate from no one else.
The picture is of when she is two and he is seven. He was heart broken when a year later she moved away with her mother. He would watch all the children coming down the street in hopes it was her. He never forgot her.
In his tenth year he went deaf. He had a lifelong problem with yeast infections in his ears. I would clean his ears on a regular basis but still one time he developed a massive infection in both ears and both his ear drums burst. He was treated for the infection but the damage to his hearing was permanent. On the plus side he could no longer hear the thunder that so terrorized him.
And the years went by and developed a degenerative disease in his spine reducing his mobility. Thankfully, it was a non-painful disease. As the disease progressed he lost control of his bowels and could not climb up or down stairs. He started to have arthritic pain in his front legs. Then one day he could no longer stand. His hind legs had given out and he refused to eat. At 16 and a half years of having my buddy with me I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life.
I still miss you buddy.
