It's been a month

It's been a month since my best buddy changed address.  A very quiet month.  A month without a happy furry guy greeting me at the door when I get home.  A month without early morning or late evening dootie walks.  A month without him waiting patiently (?) to lick my ice cream spoon. 

I still can't believe Luke, Lukie-boy, The Lukester....he answered to them all...went from healthy to struggling for his life in just a few days....some sort of auto-immune system malfunction.  I'd never heard of such a thing, and there was nothing I, nor veterinary specialists, could do to stop it.  If something seemed like it might help, we tried it.  And he fought bravely, too.

I have no idea if I'll some day be reunited with him or not.  I sincerely hope that "Rainbow Bridge" thing is true.  I'll be one happy guy if it is.  To be surrounded again by Luke, Emma Belle, and Tara Belle (previous canine family members) would be amazing.

Take care Lukie-boy.  I love you buddy.  Rest up now while you can, 'cause we're going on some epic walks when I some day catch up.

S..."The guy what passes out the treats"  :)

I am beyond heartbroken

Today I had to put down my wonderful dog, Luke.  He was only 3.  Three years together with this little guy was not enough.  He went from having some sort of rash on his belly on Wednesday to being terminally ill 5 days later. 

We immediately went to our normal veterinarian who among other things did a biopsy on some skin, then in short order sent us on to a veterinary internist.  He spent his last 2 nights at the 24 hour pet hospital, while we sat at home, worried sick.  They were all great there, but simply couldn't arrest the auto-immune condition that was eating him.  Nobody could.  When he started to suffer, we did what we knew we had to do to spare him any more. 

I'm in shock.  To say I'm completely devastated is a dramatic understatement, sort of like saying Adolf Hitler could sometimes be unpleasant.  I've prayed continuously for the past 48+ hours, but apparently The Man Upstairs had something better in store for Luke.  (Put in a good word for me, Buddy.)

I told myself I wasn't going to do this, but I just had to share the wonderful life Luke and I made together.  (Oh, yeah, K was in there, too.)

Luke's life with us began a couple of months after we had to put this ^ beautiful girl (Emma Belle) down.   It didn't take us long to realize we needed another dog in our lives.  Kelly said this time SHE was getting to pick the breed and the gender.  

"OK, fine, whatdayawant?"

"A male Yorkshire Terrier." 

"DOH!  Not a Yorkie.  They're little, and scared of their own shadow."

"Nope, my pick."

My stipulation was that we were not going to have a dog that looked like a mop, and had the hair on his head tied up with a goofy looking bow!  She agreed.

K knew someone who knew a very reputable breeder, so we arranged for this ^ good lookin' guy to become ours.  He was about 4 pounds when we got him, and yes, I was more than  a bit smitten. (He eventually ballooned to 8 pounds, dripping wet.)

We did all the responsible pet owner things, like have him fixed.  He came with all the proper papers we could fill out to have him registered, but I'm not big on that sort of thing.  He was my (er...OUR) dog.  He was 100% FAMILY!  I wasn't concerned with his "value". 

We bonded fast.  Wherever I went around the house, he wasn't far behind.

This was what I invariably saw when I looked down beside my desk.  Sometimes he would scratch at my leg, wanting up.  I would accommodate him, of course.  I'd lean my desk chair far back until I was at about a 45 degree angle, then he'd lie down on my chest and enjoy the view from up here.  And give me more than a few kisses.  (OMG...were we gay? :)  

It wouldn't be long until he was fast asleep, and I was stuck in that reared-back position.  I didn't have the heart to wake him.  Eventually he'd hear a noise outside and have to go investigate, and I'd get back to work.

When I had some skin cancer removed off my nose, leaving me with a scar that I told people was the result of an epic sword fight *wink*, Luke knew better.  He knew I hurt, and was right there with me to make it all better.

When I would go sit on the balcony, so would Luke.  He ruled over his 'hood from up there, and would assume the "tough little man" stance when he saw another dog on his turf.  I was dead wrong when I said Yorkie's were scared of their own shadow....THIS one wasn't!

True to her word, K never tried to dress him up in silly clothes.  Umm...we made an exception for football season when he wore his custom size XXXS Texas Tech Red Raiders jersey. 

 Oh, and there was the time I agreed to a red sweater when he posed for our Christmas card.

He didn't watch a lot of TV, but he did like The Animal Planet.

He became a regular at some of our local art shows, where he usually gamed K into carrying him after the first couple of miles.  I guess when your pace is only about 3 inches, a mile is almost a marathon!

We had several little blankets on chairs, my ottoman, the couch, etc, that he'd use to make himself a comfy nest.  We were allowed to sit wherever he WASN'T.  :)

I would absolutely love to come from work in the afternoons where Luke would greet me at the door,  then run back towards the den, stopping to run a couple of tight 360's (I have no idea why) along the route.  Then he would jump up on my ottoman, then my chair seat, and finally up high on the back of my chair where I would catch up with him.  I'd pick him up, we'd share affections  (oops, there's that gay thing again), then I'd ask if he wanted to go on a walk.

It's funny....I used to almost dread those early morning and late night potty walks, the bundling us both up in the winter before we stepped out, then picking up his poo with those little baggies they put in dispensers around the neighborhood to keep things clean and tidy.  Now, I'd give a million bucks for the privilege of doing it all over again.  :(

Recently he'd discovered the fun of joyriding in the car.  Yes, we'd just drive around the neighborhood, and the mall parking lot a block away early in the mornings before many people were out.  He'd sit in my lap and stand on the armrest and have the time of his life.  And watching him look so happy would make me a supremely happy guy, too.

No, three years was no where near long enough time with this little guy.  I/we were there today when he left us.  I held his little head in my hand and rubbed his neck, and K caressed him, too, while the doctor gave him his lethal dose.  It was humane, and he was no longer hurting, and I was glad for that.  Now it's my turn to hurt.

 

 I love you, buddy.

Weekend's ROCK!

My, how time flies when you're having fun. 

Today it's a cool, cloudy, very quiet early Sunday morning in 'da hood....

....but yesterday we took Luke the Wonder Dog to Clyde Warren Park in downtown Dallas, a first for him.

There were sights and sounds and smells (and tastes) he'd never experienced before.  I think he enjoyed himself.

We had a great selection of food trucks to choose from:  I ate off The Butcher's Son....2 brisket/jalapeno, 1 cluck fillet sliders....sorry, too good to stop and take pictures of, while K had a Ruben grilled cheese off another "roach coach".  (Not really, they're super clean!)  For the record, Luke preferred my brisket. 

We wore Luke out!  On the way home he curled up in K's lap and passed out.  Back home I gave him a bath as he was overdue anyway, plus being on the streets of downtown Dallas.... 

I even gave K a haircut (yes, another skill set on my resume) and sent her to the showers, too.  Then I hosed myself down also and settled in to an evening of college football.  :)

Today it's Starbucks for a coffee and a read, then a trip to *gulp* Toys R Us to do the grand-kidlette's Christmas shopping.  Better now than DECEMBER 10th, right?  I think there's a small art show somewhere, too.  I'll have to Sherlock Holmes that.

But my sacrifice will all be rewarded when this evening I'll grill us some beautiful prime steak fillets I purchased from David's Meats yesterday.  Good times!

S

From "hero" to "goat"

It's an old saying that means to go from someone who can do no wrong to a (scape)goat, the Biggest Loser.  It's everywhere....in sports, business, politics, and even in pet owners.

In sports:  I watched an absolutely incredible college football game on Saturday.  Highly favored and ranked Georgia escaped by the skin of their teeth after Tennessee surprisingly played them off their feet.  It was a classic Cinderella story until, in overtime no less, this Vols running back fumbled on the one yard line....

DOH!  Touchback, Georgia's ball, field goal, game over.  Tennessee loses.  That poor running back will live with that play for the rest of his life, especially in a football-crazy state like Tennessee.

And do I even have to mention the Dallas Cowboy's ridiculously overpaid quarterback, Tony "Choke" Romo, who threw for 500+ yards, an awesome feat, but then threw an interception with a minute to go in the game to lose it all?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

In business:  I remember being at the Farnborough airshow in the UK back in 2006 when Boeing was a hero, writing orders a hundred mph for their new plane still on the drawing board, the 787.  Now they're being delivered and have become little more than super-expensive Hangar Queens.  Various bits keep exploding, catching fire, and falling off....

It got so bad a couple of weeks ago Norwegian Airlines demanded Boeing send over its engineers and mechanics and fix their flying White Elephants.  And just this weekend a Korean Airlines 787 took off from Dallas/Ft. Worth headed to Seoul and immediately had to dump $$$ worth of fuel and return to DFW due to a malfunction.

Today I read that Japan Airlines, a solid, long-time Boeing customer, is buying $9.5B worth of Airbus jets.  I'm thinking Boeing would be turning out its lights if it wasn't for the fact that there is too much demand for new aircraft for either major manufacturer to build all by themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In politics:  Sen. Ted Cruz, the huge embarrassment from my state of Texas, the once immensely popular poster boy for the Tea Party, is now spontaneously combusting.  

I guess Ted never heard the old political adage, "Always know the answer before you ask the question."  There is not now nor ever has been a snowball's chance in hell Brick O'bama would back off his health care agenda.  And he has a veto in his back pocket as a last resort.  Game, set, match.

Ted's gubment shutdown is doing no good whatsoever, and weekend polls now show the Republican's approval rating to be lower than an enema.  (It makes Congress' overall 10% approval rating look enviable.)  The majority seem to hold the GOP primarily responsible.

This game of chicken is just the opening act.  Next week comes raising the debt ceiling vote.  If it fails, the US theoretically will default for the first time ever paying it's bills.  Thinking Republicans are engineering a coup right now to squash the Tea Party extortionists.  The only magazine cover Ted will be on after that will be Mad magazine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And in pet owners:  That hero-to-goat figure would be me.  I took my breakfast, a (pre-cooked) sausage link and a croissant out on the terrace this morning.  Luke the Wonder Dog knows that the last little bite of sausage is his, per our dog/owner agreement.  He sat there, patiently waiting his turn.  Then, just as I was passing to him his little piece of meat, it slipped out of my fingers, bounced, and fell three-stories to its death.  

I looked into Luke's little brown eyes as his prize fell over the edge and could see plain as day what he was thinking:  "You dumb shit!  You're a goat.  You know that?"*

Yep, it's Monday.  Yea.

S  (or should it be G?)

* Don't worry, we're good now....I made it right.  :)