I didn't want a dog.
I'd not grown up with dogs and I'd been bitten by a few when I was younger. So I didn't really trust them. Then I got married. She had dogs growing up and she wanted a dog in our family. I said no, she said yes, and as you know, marriage is about compromise, so we got a dog.
I read every book that I could find about dog behavior and training. If we were going to bring a dog into our family it was going to be done so that it was trained and well behaved. I didn't want a dog that jumped, barked incessantly, peed in the house, or all the other annoyances that I saw elsewhere. After several months of research on training, we found that our neighbor's dog was going to have puppies. I was familiar with the mother and understood her temperament for the most part. I liked the idea of knowing from where our dog came.
We were fortunate to be there in July of 2006 to see the puppies soon after they were born. As the weeks went by we saw them grow and we were able to spend time with each of them. When the pups were about five weeks old we had settled on which one we wanted.
Her litter name was Boondock. She was named so by the breeder, because her mother, Bambi, presumably having finished giving birth, went outside to pee and out popped another puppy. She was born away from the whelping box – in the boondocks.
In September we took ownership of our new boxer puppy. Then off we went to puppy kindergarten to socialize her. We went to obedience training in order to teach her (and us) the intricacies of training. We tested for and received a canine good citizenship certification. We tested and achieved certification from Therapy Dogs International. We worked with our friends and their dogs to help train her. She learned quickly and had a temperament that was goofy but eager to please. She knew how to behave appropriately in differing situations. Exactly what I wanted when I agreed to getting a dog.
She quickly loved our friends, who trusted her so much with their newborn baby boy. She loved when we would visit my office because a colleague would play wrestle with her. She would run to his office if she could manage to break free from mine. Another old friend had her unconditional admiration and love. If we went without her to their home we would get interrogated by her nose upon return. She knew we were with him. The look of confusion and displaced excitement was always hilarious to witness.
She learned to push a button to let us know when she needed to go outside. She learned to walk on a treadmill so that she could have a comfortable walk in the cold winters. She learned to balance on walls and curbs when we went on walks. She jumped over bike racks at the library. We walked through hardware stores and she greeted everyone that we met.
Our old crotchety cat was prone to clawing her face while she slept. She never fought back; she only kept a safe distance to ensure that she wasn't bothering him. She desperately wanted to play with him, but that was never to be. She was so patient.
We tested to become volunteers at Children's Hospital for their pet friends program. She was now a working dog. When I would put on my volunteer smock she would become incredibly excited to go visit the children. Her realization that we were going was always a very specific kind of excitement. Her body language would change immediately upon entering the hospital though. She would march diligently on the hard tiled floor of the hospital from room to room.
I watched her bring smiles to the children waiting in the epilepsy ward with wires attached to their heads. I watched her gently crawl up on the bed and lie down next to a little girl that had her first chemotherapy treatment. The girl's tiny body summoned the strength to put her hand on a new friend's head. I watched a girl that I had seen in the ICU for months, whom I thought was braindead, spring to life and laugh happily when her parents placed her hand on the visiting dog's head. I had to leave the room to compose myself. I remember thinking that anyone who doubts the power of animals for mental health and comfort should see this scene.
She was our comfort and therapy when we lost a loved one unexpectedly.
She again comforted us during the hard path that we took in our attempts to create a larger family.
Most importantly, she watched over us while we had our first child. Her role surely diminished in the family hierarchy, but her companionship never wavered. She loved the new addition to our family and enjoyed the time that we spent at home in those early days. So many new smells come with a baby! She stood by us as we learned to change diapers, eat at the table, play on the floor, and crawl in the backyard. She found her voice during this time. She never really barked before, but now when someone would come to the door she was quick to alert us.
Then years passed and another child came. But by now she had grown older and her body tired more quickly. With our youngest desperately wanting to play with her, she didn't have the energy to do so most of the time. I remarked many times how sad it will be that our youngest won't remember her.
This dog never judged me. Her exuberance with all people and animals was never surpassed by any human that I've ever known. She never stopped loving. She is the type of friend that I hope everyone can have in their life.
I hope that in those last moments that she had memories of running in green fields and splashing in streams with her sister and mother. Memories of the time that she gave us and the intense love that we have for her. I hope she forgot the self-inflicted injuries, the countless cancer surgeries, dental surgeries, and irritable bowel syndrome. I know that she felt it, but she never showed us her pain.
Except in the end.
Because of that, it is with joy for her life but sadness with her death, that I can say that she runs free now.
Friday, May 29, 2020 at 6:24PM, she leapt into the great unknown. She was sent along with all the love we could possibly pour out for her. She is no longer encumbered by the pain that she has hidden and endured in her life. She left us having given all the love that she could possibly have given, leaving it with all of us to remember her.
Leela ❤ Aged 13 years, 10 months, and 20 days. 2006-2020.
TL;DR - Leela, the dog in the sidebar, has died. This post is a tribute to her.
