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that1nkyone · 6 years

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You Were Never Big On Snuggles.

When we first met, I was almost fourteen.

You were one face in a litter of wriggly puppies that I was more than happy to to be swarmed by. While I knelt down to coo at you and your siblings, you jumped up and somehow managed to get your needle-puppy teeth on my bottom lip and pull me down.

So, from the beginning, I think a part of me knew you were gonna be a bit of a turd.

You were a neurotic dog taken home by an equally-neurotic family. You were an anxious little dude who didn’t like it if we wandered far, or had things change on you without precedence, and got bossy if your food wasn’t just right.

So, you were kind of a perfect fit for us.

We could relate, and I think we spoiled you quite a bit on that front.

You kinda liked to snuggle when you were a puppy. Or, you tolerated it (especially if it was cold). I think it was only because you were tired enough to just flop on us, and small enough to be carried and not do much about it. Puppyhood meant you had a lot of energy, so you basically crashed each night, provided we took you on long walks and ran you ragged. But it was also evident from early on that you were a little… sassy. And tushy.

I clearly remember when Mom was trying to toilet train you. You were figuring it out really well - we were introducing you to the outside, rewarding you when you did the right thing. But one day, you were very pupset with Mom, stamping your feet and barking up at her because she probably wasn’t letting you chew on something.

Then, right next to the open glass door to the massive outdoor toilet byond, you squatted on our hardwood floors without breaking eye contact with Mom.

Disaster was averted quickly, but even as Mom hurriedly carried you out, it was easy figure out that you were smart.

A little too smart for your own good.

You knew the tricks. You knew routines, too. But it became evident that it was less about pleasing us, and more about what was in it for you. Sure, you could sit. Yeah, you could lie down, roll over, shake (though we called it a ‘hi-five,’ because you didn’t like your paw being held very long). You would tolerate hugs. But you’d note if there was no treat in our hands, or if your food didn’t have just a little bit of cheese on it, or if we didn’t have one of your toys at the ready.

You knew what we wanted, but you mostly knew what you wanted. And while that would make things a little difficult for us (especially as you got much older, and change became hard, and being alone in the house was frightening), you weren’t aggressive about it. (Well, maybe once or twice when you were a pup, and figuring stuff out). But yeah. It wasn’t that you didn’t like us, or felt unsafe around us. You just had your own way of doing things. Your own ways of showing affection, and showing happiness.

You didn’t like snuggles, but you did make happy groans when I massaged your floppy lil’ ears.

I feel like my brother and I were more of a background presence in your life.

You loved Dad. Oh my God, did you love Dad. And Dad loved you. He was the one who walked you and fed you the most (a mixture of eventual routine and stubbornness - he didn’t like sharing the role that often). He was also the one who Listened to you the most. You were not completely content until Dad was right by your side. You guys were attached at the hip. Sometimes, if you were both nervous, it was a case of a major feedback loop of anxiety. But when you were both calm, it was the picture of serenity. You were his shadow.

Mom was more strict with you, and also probably played the role of caretaker the most when you were sick. (You took those pills like a champion, even though you made it very clear that they were not your Favourite). I remember her saying that she was probably more like ‘the Warden’ for you, but I think you loved her, all the same. She didn’t let you do many fun things, but she was always there and she made you Well. She made things Better, even if you didn't always get it.

Like me, my brother was very sweet on you. He hasn’t lived with you for a few years, now, so it’s a little difficult to recall his role. I remember him playing with you when you were both much younger, and you outright wrecking his soccer ball. I also remember my brother coming home from across the sea for the first time in years - and I remember you greeting him with such happiness. You lay on your bed that evening, calmer than we’d seen you in a long while.

I was just the person who gave good ear scratches, belly rubs and pats. Like my brother, I was sometimes the stand-in for walks and feeding time - and in your later years, your babysitter. I used to hug you a lot too - but then I learned how to read dog body language better, and made sure to give you more room.

You may have been sooky when you were left alone, but goodness knows how long you put up with us being sooky around you and kissing your nose and crowding around you, just because you’d been looking at us with puppy eyes. (You didn’t want us to come up to you while you were relaxing. Those eyes were a curse for you, they kept drawing us over with us cooing of ‘oh my gosh, oh my goodnesh’ and you just wanted to nap.)

I remember having hard days at Uni, and High School, and being at my computer to kinda dull myself to all that. I remember you trotting down the stairs to where I sat at my desktop, and giving me a lick on the elbow before going to curl up on your usual spot on the couch, nearby. I think you were a bit of an anchor to me - when days were rough or overwhelming, or I was floating three feet off the ground with anxiety, I’d go over to you and pet your back. You didn’t seem to mind.

You still didn’t like being snuggled as you got older, but you still did like your ear-rubs and chin scratches. You were maybe a little catlike in that regard - you liked your space, and you didn’t like cuddles, but you were not calm until my folks were sitting down in the living room, and you were curled up on your bed next to them. Sometimes, if I sat down next to your bed, your head would rest on my knee, and I wouldn’t be able to move.

But even in your old age, you were sneaky and still kinda sassy. If we’d just finished making food involving raw meat, you’d wait until we’d left the kitchen, then reach up and lick the countertop (‘technically, it’s not counter surfing’).

You weren’t as energetic these past few years. We knew you were getting old, and we kinda thought you knew, too. You didn’t run around that much, or need long walks, or anything like that. You were happy to just go outside, do your business, and come back in. You were happy to do a little play with the same toy that muffled your barks. (‘roo-roo-roo!’)

So, when you played really hard with a bunch of other doggos a couple days ago, Dad commented that you played like a puppy. It was an amazing morning running around, out in the rain with a bunch of other vizslas.

I kind of wonder if you had some idea that you weren’t going to be around for much longer.

The last time I heard you was this 4am this morning. I was woken up by the click-clicking of your claws upstairs on the hardwood floor. Then, Mom and Dad’s muffled voices, and the garage door opening up as the car drove you away.

I’m happy I got to see you again, one somber phone call and a car ride later. You didn’t see us. I like to think you heard us.

I called you 'a bit of a turd, earlier.' I’d like to apologise for that, but here's what I meant: You were tushy, and bossy, and sassy, and you were just you. Beautiful, wonderful you. You were a good boy. You were a very good boy and we loved you. We all loved you very much.

I hope you heard that before you were gone.

The vet today was patient with us. She told us to take our time, after you'd left us. So, we gave your head a few more lasting pats.

You were never big on snuggles, after all.

#th1nks #animal death

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