MSCHERRYTWO's blog post about her Tee Tee reminded me of the boxer who was the first great dog love of my life.
Copper showed up the same day we dropped my father off at the V.A. hospital for his six month stay for a bone disease. He was a beautiful mix breed who looked completely like a boxer except that his jaws didn't sag at all. Every line of his face and body was like muscles under gold satin.
It was the late fifties, my mother a single woman with three kids under the age of seven and all of us living out in a little crooked house in the country. Worse, it was in the country but on the main highway. There was a regular stream of traveling salesmen and hobos. We had nothing to be afraid of though because Copper always stood between anyone and us. If they moved suddenly he growled softly.
On the other hand he was terrified of thunderstorms. He broke two screen doors before mother started bringing him in every time she saw a storm on it's way. We loved that she always had to put him outside to spank us. :)) He was a mortal angel with a golden coat who showed up the day we dropped Daddy off, and left the week after Daddy got home.
Talking about Copper reminds me of Boogie so I'll tell you about him too. Boogie was the greatest dog love of my life. He was small, part dachshund and part some breed that was thicker, with long black hair. My mother was raising poodles at the time, and I was always the one stuck with helping the dumbest breed poodles in history get it on. In rubber gloves and 12 years old I'd complain to my mother "MOM, this cannot be a good thing for me. I'm in puberty and helping poodles make whoopie! I hate this!" She'd say, "Oh hush and help them. They're just dogs. This won't affect you one bit." She was mostly right. I don't hate poodles, but I'll never own one.
While I was having to help the dumb ones, we also had to watch Boogie like a hawk because he could get next to a female days before she'd let any other male near her. I'd point at him sweet talking some new honey and I'd say to the poodles, "You see that? You see what he's doing? By which time Boogie would already be doing the back to back mambo with her... and I'd say "Just do what Boog does!!!"
Besides being a world class four-legged Lothario, he was also the best friend any messed up kid ever had. Boog was the only one I could talk to about the horror many kids have been through. He'd listen and let me cry. Then he'd start tugging at my hands, my shirt, my jeans, till I started laughing and playing again. Money can't buy a therapist like that. Years later in my twenties when I was a very "friendly girl," More than a few times I'd think to the guy I was in bed with, "You shoulda watched Boog with his sweeties. Then you'd be better at this." lol
When I think about these two of the most important dogs who will greet me in heaven, it always makes me smile. They free me from the fear of dying. I take sensible actions to stay alive and healthy every day. But I'm not afraid of the other side. When I get there I'll be knocked over by a boxer, a lab, an irish setter, a mixed breed dachshund, a tiny chihauha, two beautiful cats, a burro, two goats and a horse named blue... but they'll all be kissin me and nudgin me, making me laugh till I cry. That's nothing to fear. :))
I'd love to hear about your pets. I hope you'll share some stories about your mortal angel pets who've blessed your lives. (btw, I can enjoy poodles from a distance. There's a herd of full size ones at flickr.com and their pictures are joyful art.)
[memories of sweet pets © lollie dot com]