The Dogs I’ve Loved

by Randy Haglund

I’ve always been a sucker for puppies.

But when our last dog, Joe, died about five years ago, I said, “No more dogs.”

He had suffered long enough, and we languished along with him. The day we said goodbye, we had a mobile vet come to administer a sedative and a solution to euthanize him. The whole family stood by and cried as we held each other and Joe simultaneously. We watched him slowly drift away from us.

It was a painful experience; one I did not want to repeat. In my 60’s now, I knew another dog would mean a long-term commitment. Nearing retirement, I was anxious to minimize encumbrances.

 My family wanted another dog. We had always had dogs. I said no.

I put my foot down.

However, after five years of going dogless, I began to realize why we always had dogs. Quite simply, I love dogs. Sure, they’re an obligation and a hassle.

For example, what do you do with them while on vacation?

And what about the cat? Our old and cantankerous cat, Alpha, does not like dogs. Well, she tolerated gentle Joe. But she had had some bad experiences with other dogs.

Plus there’s the question of whether we’re still going to live here for years to come, or are we going to downsize into an apartment after a while.

These were all reasons to not get a dog. But one day I walked into a customer’s office and she had gotten a new Burmese Mountain puppy. His big soulful eyes seemed to say, “Will you be my friend?”

I melted.

That evening, we started talking about getting another dog. As we discussed the possibilities, I thought back to the dogs in my life, and how they each had their own impact on me.

Peanuts

When I was a toddler, we had a Cocker Spaniel mix named Peanuts. We didn’t have her long, and my memory of her is foggy.  I have the impression now that she didn’t like me much, but as a 4-year-old, I probably treated her about like I treated my toys — abusively.

Like I said, she wasn’t around for long because she barked and howled incessantly, and my parents couldn’t handle her. Soon, they sent her out to be a farm dog. It broke my older brother’s heart, because he loved her despite her shortcomings.

With her dispatch, I became the center of attention again; which, if I recall, was my main agenda anyway. Nevertheless, Peanuts represents my brief introduction to dogs.

As I grew, I became attached to other people’s dogs, and wanted one for myself, but my parents were not particularly fond of the idea. They liked dogs alright, but were skeptical about how committed I would be to one.

Kimi

My chance came at ten years old. My oldest brother, Ray, somehow talked my parents into letting him buy an older Chinese Pug that needed rescuing from a puppy mill. Her breeding days were at an end, and she became disposable.

I liked Kimi from the start, despite the fact that she wasn’t particularly fond of people in general. Before long, Ray went into the Navy, and Kimi became my charge. As her new chief feeder and petter, she decided she liked me better than most people.

None of my friends cared for her because she would bark at them when they came over, and wouldn’t let most of them pet her. She was kind of snooty that way. But, in a weird way, it made me feel even more special, because she loved me more than just about anybody.

She got especially excited at feeding time. Half a can of Blue Mountain soft dog food made her tap dance on the kitchen floor in anticipation. She had this cute little bark of excitement “ah-em, ah-em,” while I dished it up. When I cuddled with her she especially craved a scratch on her rump where her tail curled up, or a nice fondling of that wrinkle right above her nose.

Kimi was basically my dog right up until I went away to college. An old lady by then, she started having trouble coming up the back porch, and I knew her time was short. At some point while I was away, my parents had her put down. I resented not being able to say good bye to her.

Kina

Ten years went by before I got my own dog. Married now, we finally had our own place and we pored over dog breed books before we settled on getting a purebred Samoyed puppy. She stole our hearts! The most adorable little puppy you ever saw. We showed her off to everyone, and they all cooed and fussed over her like the queen she believed she was.

Samoyeds are famous for being gentle, especially with children. For example, I played football with her out in the pasture while we lived up in the wooded foothills of Mount Spokane. I would throw or kick the football down to the other end of the meadow; she would retrieve it and knew she had to scramble past me to get a touchdown. She dodged me every time, but she let me get close just to make me think I had a chance.

When my five-year old niece, Amber, visited, she wanted to play football with Kina. At first I said no, she might get hurt.

“Please, please, let me try.”

I relented and kicked the ball down to the other end. Kina came rushing back with the ball, but instead of avoiding my niece she slowed down and let Amber “tackle” her with ease.

Dog

We weren’t looking for another dog, but one day a dog found us. We were doing yard work; I raked while my wife worked in a flower bed. A medium sized brown mottled dog with no collar showed up, and Kina made friends with her immediately. The interloper cowered over to my wife and got some pets, but she avoided me until I put the rake down. Then she kowtowed to me and let me scratch her behind the ears. When I reached for my rake she scurried off.

Hmmm.

She hung around for a few days and my wife fed her, insuring her daily return. Nobody in the area knew anything about her and it became clear somebody had dumped her off in the countryside. We had only one nearby neighbor — a young couple with a two-year-old boy that ran around buck naked. We asked them if they wanted the dog, because we already had one.

They said sure, and they let their boy name her.

Dog.

Like John Wayne in Big Jake. Just “Dog.”

But Dog always hung out at our place. A few weeks later we realized our neighbors moved without a word. Dog was abandoned again.

We were okay with that. More than okay. We had grown to love Dog and she knew we belonged to her.

Not long after that, we moved into Hillyard, bringing both dogs with us. They were best friends.

By the time Kina was thirteen, she had been hit by a car once, lost a fight with an Akita, and hobbled around like an old granny. Plus she suffered from bad kidneys and a skin disease.

About that time we were going through tremendous turmoil. My wife had just given birth to quadruplets (See Quadraphobia for the full story) and one of them died after six months. After another six months passed, we made the difficult decision to euthanize Kina.  

A month later we had the youth group from Hillyard Baptist Church over to rake the autumn leaves. A knock came at the door, and one the kids said, “I think your dog is dead.”

Stunned, I went outside to see Dog curled up next to the foundation of our house, lifeless.

Another punch to the gut.

Kina and Dog had become so close; we always believed Dog died of a broken heart.

My heart hurt most for my six-year-old son, Josh. He had always had the dogs in his life, and now he lost both of them and a little brother in a matter of months.

Joe

Two weeks later I took Josh with me to the Humane Society and came home with a black German Shepherd mix. Josh named him Joe, and in many ways he reminded us of Dog. His humble nature became evident to us immediately, and he seemed to appreciate having a family to love. Like Dog, he had a protective nature and would bark when strangers approached the house.

The mailman and the UPS guy were wary of Joe, but if I opened the gate to let anyone in, Joe knew it was cool.

We never knew Joe’s exact age when we got him, but we had him sixteen years before we became convinced it was time to let go. He had been suffering for quite a while, but it never seemed to be the right time.

So when at last we said goodbye to him, I believed it would be the last dog I would send across the rainbow bridge.

But five years later, when I thought about all those dogs I loved, and how they loved me, I had a heart change.

Willie

I wanted to get another rescue dog and something not too energetic. I told my wife, “I’m getting too old for ‘fetch’ and ‘Frisbee.’”  But she said we should get a puppy, because you never know how an adult dog is going to get along with a cat that was used to ruling the roost.

A Basset Hound sounded good. Something slower than me. My wife and kids wanted a Golden Retriever.

So we compromised and got a Retriever.

It didn’t take too much coaxing. They talked me into an “English Cream” Golden.

We had a name all picked out for him, “Bentley” — a nice English name. When we got there, the breeders said  we could name him whatever we wanted but they were calling him Willie. The last of the litter to be sold, they wondered “Willie (will he) be adopted?”

Perfect.

I love puppies, but they have their challenges. I thought potty training would never end, even though it was just a few weeks.

Hellish weeks.

Then he started tearing up everything in sight, making our back yard look like a hobo camp. I began to have my doubts about the wisdom of getting another dog.

He’s not much of a watchdog either. More like Kina. He greets all strangers with a smile, a wagging tail, and a tour of the premises.

Next month Willie will be a year old. I can’t imagine life without him now. We all love to cuddle with him, and he loves that the most.

Dogs.

Like kids, they can be frustrating, disobedient, puzzling. And they come with complications. The hardest part is when you have to say goodbye.

But life without them is dull, lifeless, and loveless.

Life is just better with a dog.

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Don’t you agree? Tell me about your dog adventures.