I’m re-sharing a blog
post I wrote a while ago – Ode to a Big Brown Dog. I still miss him every day.
June 1, 2000. My
daughter Tracy was 15 years old and determined beyond measure to convince me to
let her keep a gangly brown puppy that she had carried home from the trailer
court. I was determined not to let her. It wasn’t that I didn’t
think she would take care of it; I just didn’t want a big dog and I knew that I
would inherit it when she eventually moved out. She promised that would
never happen.
I argued that we
didn’t have a proper yard for a large dog. She said she would build a
run. I pointed out the high cost of vet bills and food. She swore
she’d work to support his every need. I simply said no. She simply
waited until Dave came home from work. When I told him that Tracy wanted
to keep the puppy, he casually remarked that it was okay with him. At
that moment I knew I was doomed.
Doomed to spend the
next 11 and a half years with one of the coolest dogs that ever was.
Neiko was born on
April 10th, 2000. One of a litter of 14 Chocolate Lab/Akita
cross puppies, he was the only one that was solid brown. The only tell
that he was more than just a lab was a thick line of wavy fur down his
back. And the fact that he grew into an 86 lb. monster of a lab.
For the most part, he had the sweet disposition of a Labrador retriever, but
the 25% Akita in him was 100% dog aggressive. This trait didn’t really
present itself until he was a little older. Had we known that cute little
bundle would become such a terror, we might not have given in so easily.
Tracy wanted to name
him Bartleby after the angel in the movie Dogma. There was no way I was
going to stand on my deck and call a Bartleby into the house, so I protested
vehemently. Oddly enough, a woman named Pollyanna suggested Neiko and,
thankfully, Tracy liked it. With that settled, we did our best to put up
with one of the dumbest, clumsiest puppies in the world. He got hit be
cars twice, but both times was fortunate enough to escape serious injury.
Tracy took him everywhere with her and so he assumed that the whole town was
his playground. One night he followed a friend of Tracy’s home and when
her friend’s mother came home from work at the mill at midnight, refused to let
her into her own house.
By the time he was
approaching his second birthday, even Tracy was feeling like she just might
have bitten off more than she could chew. We were about to give up
on him, but seemingly overnight, Neiko stopped being dumb and clumsy and
turned into an incredible dog. His aggression toward his fellow species
notwithstanding, Neiko was smart and full of personality. His repertoire
of tricks included the standard sit and lay down, but was enhanced by singing
and playing dead when we pointed a finger at him and said, “Bang!” He
could roll over, sit pretty and crawl, too.
Neiko loved
people. Someone once remarked to me that I must feel so safe at night
when Dave was working with Neiko around. I had visions of an intruder
breaking in and Neiko thinking, “Hey, someone new to pet, pamper and play with
me!” Thankfully, his protective instincts were never put to the
test.
When he wasn’t happy
with us, he let us know. He would pout and refuse to acknowledge us if we
had offended him in anyway. Pretty much the only way to get him to
forgive us was to say the word ‘treat’ – and, of course, follow through with
the offer.
He loved to go for
rides. Any opportunity to hop in the car or truck was met with joy and
big, happy doggy smiles. It didn’t matter where we were going or even if
he never got to get out when we got there. Neiko just wanted to be
included in our activities.
Our yard was
constantly littered with bones that Neiko dragged home from God knows
where. Moose, deer, cow – and even horse once – parts were a
familiar part of the landscaping. We never mowed the lawn without first
“walking the grid” in search of blade bending bones. One morning we woke
up to the head of a four-point buck on the lawn. Neiko and Simon (our dachshund)
munched on that for weeks. I prayed that no one would drive by and see
their trophy in our yard. Hooves were a particularly favourite
treat. Ever step on a piece of Lego in the dark? Hoof bits have a
similar effect!
True to her word,
Tracy looked after The Schnoof, as he affectionately came to be called.
She fed him, brushed and bathed him, walked him and cleaned up his
messes. She worked to buy his food and pay for any vet bills. She
responsibly had him neutered when he was six months old. And when she
moved out, she took him with her. Neiko, however, didn’t want to
go. He became even more aggressive and difficult to handle. Tracy,
in tears, thought she was going to have to put him down. But Dave had
other thoughts on the matter and told her to bring him home. As much as I
didn’t really want to have look after him, I was relieved that he wasn’t going
to die and welcomed him back. Tracy continued to support him by
buying his food and tending to vet bills over the next several years.
As brave as Schnoofy
could be in a dog fight, he was terrified of fireworks, backfiring cars and the
sound of gunshots. Thunder had him cowering next to – if not on top of –
us on the couch. He would visibly quake until the noise stopped.
In spite of having
fangs that were over an inch long, Neiko was incredibly gentle when being hand
fed. He was always nervous around young children, but very tolerant
and never, ever hurt anyone – on purpose. When Tracy was raising rabbits
and guinea pigs, Neiko protected them. No other dog could get near his
“babies.”
As much as it broke my
heart, I chose to leave Neiko and Simon both with Dave when I moved out last
spring. It was their home and after Tracy’s disastrous attempt at
relocating him, I believed that Neiko would be content to stay with Dave for
the rest of his life. Then one day, Neiko discovered where I lived and
began making increasingly frequent visits. I would often come home from
work to find him waiting for me on my deck. I would take him home or Dave
would come and get him, but he just kept coming back. Sometimes
circumstances would mean that he had to stay overnight with me. I didn’t
feed him, but he wouldn’t go home on his own when he got hungry either.
When he was home, Dave would have to physically drag him into the house to
eat. As soon as he was released, back he came to my place. We
finally decided that for his own safety Neiko would live with me. Or
rather, we finally agreed with Schnoofy on the matter.
He settled in and was quite
happy here. He was the only pet and so got all the attention. For a
while he would go back to Dave’s for visits now and then, but eventually he
stopped even doing that.
He suffered from
progressive hip dysplasia over the last couple of years. Like most dogs
with the condition, he had good days and bad days. It was all I could do
not to burst into tears when he stumbled and fell on the stairs. But I
tried to follow Cesar Milan’s advice and not show overt pity for his
plight. Neiko accepted it and so I tried to as well. To help him,
we ensured that he got top of the line dog food with glucosamine and had hoped
that that would slow down the degeneration of his hips joints and ease his
discomfort. It seemed to be working. He wasn’t as shaky and
unstable for the last few weeks.
Last night I came home
from work to find Neiko waiting for me at the door. As per our usual
routine, I gave him a treat and a hug and let him outside for a pee. He
didn’t even go down the stairs and barked to be let in only a few moments
later. For the next two hours he was quite restless, moving from the
couch to the floor to his bed and back to the couch again every few
minutes. I didn’t think much of it as he would do this every now and
then. I was expecting another bad spell with his hips.
At about seven o’clock
he wanted to go outside. I opened the door and he walked out with his
tail down. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked back at
me. I gave him a pet and watched him go down the steps. He walked
into the back yard and laid down in the snow. Again, I didn’t think much
of it as he sometimes did this. I figured he’d be back at the door in a
few minutes.
An hour passed.
I decided to go and check on him. When I opened the door and called his name
there was no response. He wasn’t on his chair on the deck and I thought
that maybe he had gone for a walk-about. When I turned to come back in, I
saw him laying in the snow a few feet from the bottom of the stairs. I
called his name. He didn’t move.
Neiko had died.
It looked like he was
heading back inside and just collapsed on the way. Perhaps his heart gave
out. I really don’t know. I hope he didn’t suffer. I feel so
bad that I wasn’t there with him when it happened.
He’s gone to rest at
Dave’s Dad’s farm next to Muffy, Wiggles, Cleo and other McKilligan family
pets. Dave’s Dad kindly fired up his back hoe to dig a grave. Being
winter, the option of digging one any other way is nil.
Before wrapping him in
his old blanket, Dave removed his collar and gave it to me. It now hangs
on my headboard. Eventually, I will put it away, but for now, that’s
where it’s going to stay.
Dogs are such amazing
creatures. Their love and loyalty, their natural empathy and compassion
for their owners is a model more of us could emulate. Dogs live in the
moment. They don’t regret. They don’t hate. They know how to
forgive.
Having Neiko in my
life was a privilege. I’m glad that we were able to give him a good
life. We spoiled him quite rotten. I doubt Cesar Milan would have
been proud of us, but we loved him. So much! He’s going to be very,
very missed – by us and by a lot of people in this community who got to know
him over the years.
I’m sure I won’t miss
the hair on the furniture. Or the requests to go outside in the wee hours
of the morning. But I will miss the cuddles and the kisses, the tricks
and the company. Neiko was great company!
Good bye, my big brown dog. I hope that wherever you are there are
no end to the bones and balls and squeaky toys that you loved so
much. Rest in peace, dear Schnoofy!