Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Going to the Dogs
We are dog people. It is my belief, right or wrong, that there is something fundamentally wrong with people who don’t like kids and/or dogs. Early in our relationship, my husband insisted that we get a dog. Although I wanted a dog too, it was my opinion that we should wait until we had a house, since we lived in a high-rise condo in South Miami Beach (this was of course, BK, before kids) when we were still hip. Not only did he have his heart set on a dog right now, but he insisted that we get a Dalmatian, rather than a small “girly man” dog.
So after Tony used his considerable charm to convince me to abandon all common sense, we ended up getting an adorable, liver spotted Dalmation puppy, who we named Bella Mia. Her double claims to fame were that she had brown spots (only about 10% of Dalmatians are brown and white instead of black and white), and she was the granddaughter of one of the singer Gloria Estefan’s dogs.
What my husband neglected to mention in his campaign to get a dog was that he never intended to walk, feed or care for the dog in any way other than to play with her and love her. Anyone who has had a dog, especially a puppy and especially in a high-rise condo, knows is that it’s a lot of work. Back in the day BK, my entire condo was furnished in antiques. Bella gnawed through the leg of a 1920’s solid oak table; I think maybe she was a beaver in a previous life. She destroyed my white damask upholstered 1940’s sofa. She used our carpet as her own personal toilet. She shed brown hairs on you if you were wearing white, and white hairs on you if you were wearing black. She used to sleep I’m not a biologist, but my theory is that puppies are so cute as a defense mechanism. If they looked just like regular dogs but smaller, they wouldn’t survive their first year. Luckily, Bella was gifted in the cuteness department.
Unfortunately, her cuteness did not give her immunity from our condo board. As in many such associations, there are a lot of people who had nothing better to do than to give other residents a hard time. They sued us, along with a half dozen other people because our dog was over the weight limit. We spent over $5,000 in attorney’s fees trying to defend our precious Bella. Eventually, we sold our condo and moved to a house since I was at that time pregnant with our oldest, and we wanted a more family-oriented environment to raise him, so they dropped the suit against us.
Just before Danny was born, Tony suggested that we get rid of the dog. He was afraid that Bella would be jealous of the baby and might bite him. But I told him in no uncertain terms that we were not getting rid of the dog. You just don’t do that; when you adopt an animal, as long as it isn’t a danger to anyone, it is part of your family and you can’t just jettison it when it gets inconvenient. When I brought Danny home from the hospital, I gave Bella one of his baby blankets to smell. That night, she went outside and barked and barked, announcing the arrival of the baby. Then she lay right down next to his bassinet and became his protector from then on.
For years afterward, as we had child after child, Bella transformed into a deer when Danny was playing Indian, and into a princess and playmate for the girls. If animals could be canonized, then Bella would have been a saint. She was always gentle and loving.
As she got older, Bella lost her eyesight, and then most of her hearing. She developed bumps and lumps that came and went, all over her body, then she became incontinent. When she started ailing, we got her a dog. I had read that if you have an older dog that isn’t doing well, sometimes it helps perk them up to have a younger dog in the house. So Danny and I went to the Humane Society and picked out a pointer puppy that we named Striker. He did help keep her on her toes, and I think she loved him, but they waged an ongoing turf war. She was about three times his size, but not as spry or aggressive. Once, they got into a big fight and he bit her tail so badly that we had to have it cut off at the vet.
In the sunset of her life, when she was 14 years old, we had a flood in our house and we had to move out for three months while the repairs were being done. She was really not doing well since she was in a new environment and couldn’t see very well. She even somehow lost her sense of smell. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. I was afraid that she was just going to die and the kids would find her and be devastated. But in true keeping with her nature, she didn’t let that happen. One day, she just disappeared without a trace. We looked for her and asked if anyone had seen her, but she was gone.
We still have Striker, and he is following in Bella’s pawprints. He has recently gotten over his obnoxious puppy stage and is shaping up into a really good dog. He is a hunting dog and has killed five animals that I know of, some of which he has eaten. But he has never hurt our kids and he even lets Rebecca take his front paws and dance around with him. And just like Bella, he sheds white hairs on dark clothes and black hairs on light clothes.
So after Tony used his considerable charm to convince me to abandon all common sense, we ended up getting an adorable, liver spotted Dalmation puppy, who we named Bella Mia. Her double claims to fame were that she had brown spots (only about 10% of Dalmatians are brown and white instead of black and white), and she was the granddaughter of one of the singer Gloria Estefan’s dogs.
What my husband neglected to mention in his campaign to get a dog was that he never intended to walk, feed or care for the dog in any way other than to play with her and love her. Anyone who has had a dog, especially a puppy and especially in a high-rise condo, knows is that it’s a lot of work. Back in the day BK, my entire condo was furnished in antiques. Bella gnawed through the leg of a 1920’s solid oak table; I think maybe she was a beaver in a previous life. She destroyed my white damask upholstered 1940’s sofa. She used our carpet as her own personal toilet. She shed brown hairs on you if you were wearing white, and white hairs on you if you were wearing black. She used to sleep I’m not a biologist, but my theory is that puppies are so cute as a defense mechanism. If they looked just like regular dogs but smaller, they wouldn’t survive their first year. Luckily, Bella was gifted in the cuteness department.
Unfortunately, her cuteness did not give her immunity from our condo board. As in many such associations, there are a lot of people who had nothing better to do than to give other residents a hard time. They sued us, along with a half dozen other people because our dog was over the weight limit. We spent over $5,000 in attorney’s fees trying to defend our precious Bella. Eventually, we sold our condo and moved to a house since I was at that time pregnant with our oldest, and we wanted a more family-oriented environment to raise him, so they dropped the suit against us.
Just before Danny was born, Tony suggested that we get rid of the dog. He was afraid that Bella would be jealous of the baby and might bite him. But I told him in no uncertain terms that we were not getting rid of the dog. You just don’t do that; when you adopt an animal, as long as it isn’t a danger to anyone, it is part of your family and you can’t just jettison it when it gets inconvenient. When I brought Danny home from the hospital, I gave Bella one of his baby blankets to smell. That night, she went outside and barked and barked, announcing the arrival of the baby. Then she lay right down next to his bassinet and became his protector from then on.
For years afterward, as we had child after child, Bella transformed into a deer when Danny was playing Indian, and into a princess and playmate for the girls. If animals could be canonized, then Bella would have been a saint. She was always gentle and loving.
As she got older, Bella lost her eyesight, and then most of her hearing. She developed bumps and lumps that came and went, all over her body, then she became incontinent. When she started ailing, we got her a dog. I had read that if you have an older dog that isn’t doing well, sometimes it helps perk them up to have a younger dog in the house. So Danny and I went to the Humane Society and picked out a pointer puppy that we named Striker. He did help keep her on her toes, and I think she loved him, but they waged an ongoing turf war. She was about three times his size, but not as spry or aggressive. Once, they got into a big fight and he bit her tail so badly that we had to have it cut off at the vet.
In the sunset of her life, when she was 14 years old, we had a flood in our house and we had to move out for three months while the repairs were being done. She was really not doing well since she was in a new environment and couldn’t see very well. She even somehow lost her sense of smell. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. I was afraid that she was just going to die and the kids would find her and be devastated. But in true keeping with her nature, she didn’t let that happen. One day, she just disappeared without a trace. We looked for her and asked if anyone had seen her, but she was gone.
We still have Striker, and he is following in Bella’s pawprints. He has recently gotten over his obnoxious puppy stage and is shaping up into a really good dog. He is a hunting dog and has killed five animals that I know of, some of which he has eaten. But he has never hurt our kids and he even lets Rebecca take his front paws and dance around with him. And just like Bella, he sheds white hairs on dark clothes and black hairs on light clothes.
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