Small Girl, Big Life

Can't sleep, have a lot going on later today and tomorrow, and I just realized it's the anniversary of my dog's death..



The big black beast on the right. I have more pics somewhere, I just don't feel like digging them out.

I guess it's kind of lame that I still get upset about it, but I had him for 14 years - we grew up together.

My parents were dead set against keeping him when my dad's barber brought him to our house. When my mom asked what the hell he was, the barber simply said, "It's your new dog!"... We already had a boxer, a doberman, and 2 cats, and Bozo (who's name was Hoss at the time) was already huge for a 6 month old puppy. He had knocked the barber's mother-in-law and nearly broke her hip, so his wife & mother-in-law naturally insisted that the dog go.

And the barber insisted that he didn't want to give Bozo to anyone else, that our home was where he needed to be and if we didn't take him, he (the barber) would just shoot him. And then he left to go run errands, leaving the dog with us. Of course, he and I bonded immediately. We were already attached at the hip by the time the barber came back. Bozo hid in our laundry room and that was it. We kept him.

lol ... A few weeks later, my mom marched into the barber shop and told the barber that he needed to pay her child support 'cuz the amount of food my dog ate was costing her an astronomical amount of money. Some people that lived way down at the end of our subdivision insisted we had bought a horse to live in the "barn" (which was really just a big garage my dad's mom had built for storage and ended up being used as a shop so my dad could work on his truck) back in our woods when she was thinking about moving to TN. They'd even threatened to call the Homeowner's Association.

But anywho.. Bozo was always super protective of me - if he thought even for a second someone was trying to hurt me, he wasn't nothing nice. He'd always give a warning of course, and thankfully nothing ever -did- happen, but God help whoever would've.. My dad would play hit me to encourage that instinct, and Bozo would wind up tearing his arms up. He would never bite my dad hard enough to do serious damage, but he busted blood vessels many times.

And every morning, after I started school - mostly when I was older and we'd gotten Sassy - (the boxer in the picture up there) - my mom would try waking me up. Of course, I'd moan and groan, so she'd get Bozo & Sassy to come in and jump on my bed & wake me up.. After Bozo got older, he'd just lay back down in bed with me and go to sleep. Sometimes my mom would give up and just let me stay home for the day. XD

When my brother's cat had her kittens, Bozo actually cleaned them all for her. And he was deathly afraid of thunder storms and his favorite thing ever was peanut butter. So we would buy him large jars of it on holidays - Thankgsiving, Christmas, etc. But he always had to feel like he was sneaking it. He'd take the jar & "hide" in a corner. And yes, he could open it on his own without popping the lid off. He'd loosen the lid with his teeth and unscrew it the rest of the way with his tongue. During the Summer, he'd come in and lay on one of the air vents in the floor to get cooled off.

When I moved to Nashville, I couldn't take him with me. He weighed 150 lbs and stood 6' tall on his back legs. He was much too big. And he was used to running around our neighborhood loose. So when I'd go home for the Summer, he never let me out of his sight. If I got up to go to the bathroom, he'd sit outside the door waiting for me. If I went to the kitchen to get something to eat, he was right behind me. And of course when I went to sleep at night, he'd be beside me in my bed.

I hadn't seen him in over 6 months when he passed away. He'd gotten older, and arthritis was bothering him more and more and colds became more frequent. He eventually got pneumonia and mixed with old age, it was too much for him in the end. The lady who bought our house and took care of him bought a head stone and had him buried in the woods on the piece of property we still own.. What she didn't tell anyone was that she used money out of my mom & dad's checking account to pay for it. So, the last time I went with my parents to my hometown & the garage to get stuff out of it, I grabbed it. It sits up on the kitchen table in our living room along with his picture.

... And I still miss him. He was an amazing dog.

RIP.