Our pets are a great addition to our lives. My dad always told me that if you grow up and have a dog of your own, you have to treat them better than you treat yourself (in some respects) and buy them toys, take them on walks, feed them the best food and spoil them with treats. I wasn't really in the market for a dog when I signed into the humane society website and saw a litter of puppies available for adoption the next day. When I got home from work I kept signing in to look at all of them and kept signing in to look and see if one of those dogs was a fit for me. I got to work the next day and at lunch I asked my boss if I could leave early to go adopt a dog. With her being such a dog-lover, she allowed it and off I went. Little did I know that when I got there, one boy dog was left (I really wanted a girl). I was next on the list for the puppy room and when I went in and saw Ricky in the cage, I held him and didn't want to let go, but did contemplate whether a boy dog was what I wanted or not. When the humane society employee came in and asked if I wanted him or he'd have to be given to the couple behind me on the list, I told the guy "This dog's going home with me" and Ricky was mine.
I am an avid reader and one of my favorite John Steinbeck novels is Travels with Charley, about traveling the country with a poodle named Charley. It's about the relationships made with the people, nature, and the dog. I changed Ricky's name to Charley (after much debate over naming him something different like Woodward or Detroit) and I'm glad for that decision. Charley-dog, or dogface, as I sometimes refer to him, is a companion and cuddler (who is currently sleeping at my feet). I talk to him, loving that he can't talk back and look forward to coming home and having a happy dog to walk and give belly rubs to.
When I pulled into my complex parking lot tonight, I met my neighbor, Nancy, near the lake. She was staring out at the water and I heard her say my name, so I went to say hello. Little did I know that she'd tell me all about her Huey passing away. Huey was a 12-year-old black cairn terrier who loved people, loved other dogs, and who had the cutest and hairiest black and gray face. Nancy didn't really want to talk about Huey's passing away from cancer, but when she talked about him her face lit up and she started to cry - which caused me to cry and think about my past pets and how much those doggie relationships really mean. Even more of a relationship when they are your own dog and not one you share with other people. I stood there listening and crying and she thanked me for my sympathy for her losing Huey.
Little Huey was cremated and a portion of his ashes were scattered on the lake behind our apartment buildings. Now I understand more about Nancy, her love for Huey, the lake, and how meaningful a relationship is between a person and a dog.
Rest in doggie heaven, Huey. You are missed.
