Saturday, November 26, 2011

Lucky















I’ll never forget that he chose me.

As an adult, until that day that I met Lucky, I had previously been a cat person. Save the one wonderful dog (Daisy) from my childhood, I had always been around cats.

So when a 50 pound, spotted Dalmatian mix kept jumping into my car’s passenger seat every time I left a certain boyfriend’s home circa the year 2000 – all I thought was, “oh, no…I don’t know what to do with a dog!”

My then boyfriend, Brian, a committed animal lover, had rescued Lucky and was keeping him until a “forever home” could be found. Lucky at the time was very feisty and true to his part Dalmatian nature, very crotchety. Lucky felt that it was his calling to be ‘top dog.’ But, as Brian already had Rascal, a beautiful Belgian Malinois, Lucky felt like a second class citizen and was definitely not okay with his status. He was constantly growly around Rascal and itching for a fight.

And during the time I dated him, every time I left Brian’s house, Lucky ran out and jumped into the passenger seat of my car…with his front paws folded over and clearly suggesting in his stance, “Let’s get the fuck up on out of here!”

Eventually, Lucky stopped going back to Brian’s house and so did I. Brian and I broke up a short time later and I kept Lucky by default.

Blending Lucky into my home was not easy. My then 6 year old daughter was delighted with having a dog. However, she had two strikes against her in Lucky’s eyes. She was a child (and therefore deserving of suspicion - again he was true to his Dalmatian roots) and she was a competitor for my affection. We did everything short of tying a pork chop for Taylor to drag around behind her to help in fostering any affection in him for her. (Wait – we may have done that!) In the end, the best antidote was time. Taylor grew, older, wiser and in height and eventually he saw her as another leader in our pack and ceased his petty growling with her.

When Lucky first came to live with us he was not neutered. This lead to more than one episode of him running off in search of a mate whose promises of pleasure he smelled in the breeze. I remember a neighbor from two developments away bringing him back after one of his walkabouts in search of a good time.

A funny memory I have of that time is when I finally did have him neutered in the hopes that it would keep him more of a homebody and somewhat less cantankerous. I gave Taylor the plain, but age appropriate explanation of what neutering our dog meant, and what changes we might expect or hope for. I took Lucky with me to pick up Taylor from school a couple of days later, shortly after his “snip.” He surveyed the elementary school children waiting to be picked up and uttered a continual stream of a guttural growl that Taylor heard when she got into the passenger seat. Taylor settled and buckled herself in. After listening to Sir Growly-Guts for a bit she sighed, “Mom, the ‘balls thing’ didn’t work.”

I am pretty sure that during those years when it was just the three of us (5 if you include the two cats we had) that Lucky served as a protector and guardian. While other homes in my neighborhood had been broken into...ours was untouched. Likely Lucky's greeting grin didn't come off as a welcome to any potential burglars.


And he did grin…every night that I would get home I was greeted with a toothy grimace that was Lucky’s way of saying, “Hello! Glad you’re home! Thought you’d never get here!”


Then came Donnie.


My now husband moved from upstate New York to South Florida to live with Taylor and I in October of 2004. Lucky was used to sleeping in bed with me back then, his head on the pillow next to mine. Though he had become grudgingly accepting of Taylor, he had NO intentions of giving up his favorite spot in the bed right next to me. That first night was a nightmare. Lucky positioned himself on the bed next to me and Donnie told him to move over. There was growling, snarling and yelling. Then Donnie and Lucky took the fight outside (of the bedroom.) Whatever happened (neither of them ever told) – Donnie had taken position as lead in the pack. And from that moment on, Lucky and Donnie were best buddies.

Donnie is a dog person and Lucky really benefited from that.


After Donnie and I married in 2007, I flirted with the idea of having another baby. As a tonic to this notion, we instead got a Chihuahua puppy for our first anniversary in April of 2008. We were extremely nervous about how Lucky would react to the new addition.


We soon saw that our fears were for naught. Lucky was patient, gentle and kind with Minnie. He showed her where to “go” outside, what is okay to bark at and other proper doggie behaviors. We couldn’t have asked for a better teacher for Minnie. And, Minnie seemed to have a positive effect on Lucky. He had a renewed bounce in his step and both Donnie and I remarked how he seemed to act younger.


However, over the past 18 months Lucky has had a slow but marked decline.

At first, he failed to be able to jump into bed with us. A trampled, circled space in between us on the bed had been his spot. Once he had several failed times, we made him a comfy bed next to ours.


Then he fell down the stairs a few times. He loved being with and following us throughout our home. But once he took a few hair-raising tumbles down the stairs, we blocked off the stairway. To make him feel less lonely, we spent many nights sleeping on the couches downstairs to be with him.

Then he started to lose control of his bowels. Lucky had previously always been fastidious in that regard. I knew that it embarrassed and pained him to leave a mess. But after several episodes where our furniture was involved, we regulated him into the kitchen and dining area of our home.

Then he lost complete control of his bladder. So we were forced to limit him to just the dining room. We hated it as much as he did and turned to our vet for answers.

With crossed fingers and heavy hearts, we started rounds of steroids and other medications for Lucky under our vet's supervision 5 weeks ago.


Nothing helped or made any difference.


With the understanding and blessing of our vet, we made yesterday’s appointment a few days ago. While that may sound calculated, I was grateful to have this Thanksgiving with him. Lucky had his fill of turkey, stuffing and any other treat he wanted.

I was very proud that my now 16 year old daughter opted to be part of yesterday’s heart-wrenching farewell. This is not easy for any of us and it is in a teenager’s nature to hide their head in the sand. But my Tay, in her stoic nature, came with us and stayed with us and Lucky through the very end. I am so proud of her. Owning and loving a pet is really fun – until the end, saying goodbye, which is the really hard part. And she demonstrated incredible maturity.

All three of us drove him there, cuddled him and pet him during his last moments. The details are morbid and horrific, so I will spare you.


Lucky was an incredible, complex and loving dog. He made me feel safer during my years as a single Mom and protected me and my daughter. He completely fell in love with my husband who ceaselessly cared for him, particularly during his older years. He taught our beloved Chihuahua, Minnie how to be a proper, house-broken dog (and unfortunately passed along his fear of thunderstorms.) He was fiercely loyal and loving towards us, his “pack” family.

There will never be another dog like him. He was one of a kind.

And, he was a converter. He made me, a former cat-owner into a dog lover.


Dearest Lucky – I hope you are jumping after squirrels and rabbits right now, with the bouncy legs that you once had. And, that you are getting to spoon and snuggle close with someone until we are reunited with you.


I will never forget that you CHOSE me – I don’t know why you did, but for that, I am eternally grateful.
.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

It takes a village...or an Island




Life has been frenetic around these parts, for sure. I have had a couple of very close friends sadly move very far away. One of whom, I helped in driving her back to her hometown in Tennessee. I have been travelling for work (which I will do more of in the coming weeks.) October heralded both of my parent’s birthdays, my daughter’s Sweet Sixteenth and my parents anniversary (which they celebrated at Fantasy Fest in Key West!) When we rounded the corner of November, my husband celebrated 42 years on this good green Earth making him the same age as me after our annual 6 week 1 year age disparity. (The duration of which he never fails to call me a cougar at least once.) My sister-in-law came to visit us last weekend from Maine, which was wonderful and activity-filled.


I have been making plans for upcoming holidays and vacations. Early December I go to NYC for a seminar which I will lengthen slightly to see a friend in New Jersey. Spring Break 2012 I will be in Orlando with Taylor and her BFF. Donnie and I will celebrate 5 years of wedded bliss in Las Vegas in April.

However, Key West and my connection there is never far from my mind. With scheduled time off reaching into summer of next year I often wondered when…oh when…will I get to visit my adopted hometown again?

I feel the pull even more keenly due to some recent events.




A local Key West and nationally featured photographer and acquaintance of mine, Rob O’Neal, was involved in a scooter (his) versus an automobile (a tourist) accident a week ago. You don’t have to be a statistician to know which vehicle wins in that scenario. Rob was badly injured and is now at a hospital in Miami. He is facing surgeries, rehabilitation and a lot of recovery time. You can see his beautiful work here: http://robo.zenfolio.com/






As I pull for Rob in his recovery and pray for his speedy return to doing what he does best on the island of Key West, I am truly heartened.

Via Social Media (namely Facebook) I have watched as “my” adopted community of Key West has quickly circled the wagons. You would think that in such a touristy and transitional area that the idea of being neighborly would be hard to come by. Not the case here – Good people have set up a Facebook page to manage official updates, organized benefits and coordinated drop offs and donations. Local businesses have offered their space, goods and services to benefit the cause for Rob.

The flurry of activities and the clear sense of community makes me so incredibly proud. Well, at least adjacently so. While I am not yet even a freshwater conch (a new resident of Key West can’t become one until after 7 years of residence), I still feel that I am a part of this vibrant, loving, accepting, creative and loyal society.

My last visit “home” to Key West was with a friend, Janet and my sister, Michelle last June of this year. Michelle had travelled there with me before and Janet had been there previously but not with me. After pedaling endlessly through the streets and hearing my well-worn anecdotes about Key West, Janet said to me, “These are your people!” She went on to say how lucky I was that I had found a place…a commune of like-minded people that I feel connected to. She is right. I count several residents as good, true friends. People who treat friendship, connection and kinship as sacred. I found my voice as a writer due to one of those connections.

And I do feel fortunate for that.

As you have read in this blog or heard me say, Key West holds my heart. Now more than ever. Please visit Rob’s page, purchase one of his 2012 calendars, http://www.roboneal.com/roborecoveryfund.htm
or simply include him in your thoughts and prayers.

One Human Family is the motto of Key West.  It has become mine as well.