In The Beginning

In the beginning I feel like God must have placed a dog in the home of Adam & Eve. What sane human can live without the faithful, unconditional love offered by dogs? Here is the story of our dogs.

Our first dog arrived on Mother's Day 1978. The first holiday/gift giving event of our married life. Having been raised on farms and having always had the companionship of dogs, we felt the need to add to our new family. But not just any dog would do. We shopped the classified ads and drove 50 miles to a cocker spaniel breeder and adopted Beau. He was beautiful! Buff colored, with a rough coat and wild! We had no experience with a dog that required grooming or at the least housebreaking. All of our pets had been in some form of a hound and kept outdoors. So the fun began. He was our first baby.
We kept Beau until our daughter began to walk. Having the two of them bouncing around our 900 square foot home sometimes bordered on insanity. They fed off of each other! Like a jet engine the more they ran the harder they ran, creating energy into infinity. Something had to go and after a brief moment we decided it would be the dog.
Becky filled our lives with joy and we didn't miss having a pet so much. Then as she grew we decided it was time Becky had a dog. Christmas morning 1984 Santa left a tri-colored beagle pup with a big red bow around his neck. He was 6 weeks old and had the most adorable floppy ears and big sad brown eyes. This time we knew about house breaking and thankfully no major grooming was required. He was the perfect pet. His name was Pete. He was a smart cookie and this brought on his demise. One day when we were all at work and school he opened the gate and let himself out of the backyard, probably in search of small game. For days we searched. No Pete. Then a friend called to say he had found Pete on the side of a busy road. He was alive but pretty broken up. A victim of hit and run by an uncaring person. The vet declared him fixable for about a grand but with no guarantee that he would be able to run and play again. We made a hard decision, but with that prognosis it seemed the only solution. I held him close. He snuggled against my chest, whimpering and slowly relaxed and was a peace. Through tears I drove him home and Parker buried him in our back yard.
Broken hearted and feeling very lost without a wet nose to nuzzle our hands, we called the same breeder and when his next litter of beagles was ready we adopted again. Becky was only 5 years old and the dogs looked so similar that she just began calling him Pete. It was as though the first beagle had never left home. So we followed her lead and he became Pete. When he made his initial vet visit Dr. Irving said that he couldn't have the same name and dubbed him Re-Pete. At home he was always Pete but at the vet's office he was Re-Pete. Thankfully we never had to explain this to the dog. He just accepted it as fact and went on with his happy dog life.
His happiest moments were snuffling around in the yard tracking squirrels and rabbits into the woods behind our house. Parker's dad called him Nose to the Ground! He was a really sweet fella and as much our child as Becky. She often referred to him as her brother!
When we moved in 1989 the new street was so busy that we felt it would be unsafe to keep Pete outside. He loved the outdoors and with no fencing the yard was off limits unless he was leashed. That nose would lead him astray without so much as a glance our way. So he went to live with his Aunt Sue in the country. He hunted and roamed at will. He sported injuries and toughened up. He became a dog's dog. After about a year we realized it was time to bring him home and with the new invisible fencing available we thought we would give it a shot.
He quickly learned his boundries and lived his days outside with access to the garage for shelter. A newly installed doggie door gave him direct entry into the house too. Life was good for Pete until we found he had heart worms. This time we felt a responsibility to fix the problem and he went through life threatening arsenic treatment for the nasty stuff. He lived another 9 years! Thanks Dr. Wanda!
We moved twice more and with each move we re-installed the fence wire and Pete would venture carefully into the new yard, finding the invisible lines that kept him safe.
In 1999 Becky left for college. Pete became our baby again, filling a void we had dreaded for so long. However the empty nest was soon filled with worries about a flood that wiped out much of our downtown including our office & shop. We worked out of home for 3 months and Pete enjoyed all the attention from us, our workers, family and delivery people. His health was failing and with meds we were able to make life good for him.
In February 2000, just after we moved back into our building downtown, my mother passed away. Once again that warm puppy with wet nose comforted me.
As the summer came it became more and more obvious that his time with us was coming to an end. One late August morning we woke before dawn to check on him. He was snuggled in his bed, peaceful, we liked to think he was chasing rabbits in heaven and maybe God would let him catch one or two. He was buried in our back yard with his favorite toys and blanket.
We wept.