She's a Good Girl

One day, about twelve years ago, I left my house to go to my part-time library job.  When I left, I had one dog and when I returned, I had two dogs.  To be fair, I did receive a phone call about maybe a puppy with excited kids clamoring in the background and I believe I was neither excited that it should happen or adamant that it not happen. Ambivalent, I guess you would say.  Until I got home and saw this face.

OMG. And those ears!!

And just like that, I was in love.  I loved her stinky-sweet puppy breath and her fat little belly, and the way she would bound through the grass outside. I loved how she snuggled in tight and the way she shouldered disappointment when the older dog wouldn't let her snuggle in tight; she would just go look for a person instead. She brought laughter and merriment and alternated crazy puppy energy for sweet puppy naps.

Austin Pets Alive said that she was found in a farmer's field all alone and we sighed about her rough start.  Poor Bailey!  We wondered if that was why she was so afraid of rainstorms and thunder.  It did not explain why she hated balls being tossed at her.  She did not love a game of catch, that is for sure.  We tried.  She would watch our other dog, Grommit, catch and return and looked like she wanted to join in on the great dog fun.  You would throw it to her, she would watch it fall close to her, and then run.  Grommit would look at her with complete disapproval.  Maybe her abandonment in a field also made her the nervous girl she was.  In addition to rainstorms, she didn't like other dogs, a lot of people, being pet with two hands, car rides, anything thrown in the air, or being alone for too long.  

Austin Pets Alive also said Bailey was a lab mix.  I think every stray they have in there is labeled lab mix.  Bailey was definitely a German Shepherd and something.  Probably some kind of herding dog.  She had a nose that would poke you from here to tomorrow, or her favorite, from bed to her food bowl.  Poke, poke, poke.  100% of her strength was concentrated in her nose.  She would use it to poke open doors, to poke on doors, to poke you where she wanted you.  Poke, poke, poke.  She eventually learned not to poke her nose and head into bushes on a walk when she poked her nose in and got a cat scratch to the eye.  For a time, we even thought she must be part cat because her favorite place to lay on a couch was along the top of it.

Just lounging.

Bailey took over our home with her sweet face, love of being pet, and ability to bring joy.  She became a reading buddy to Will and would lie next to him patiently as he read to her from a book.  She became a confidant and consoler to all.  Kids could confess their heartaches to her and she would lick away their tears.  She was my constant companion and ready for a walk at any time for as long as I wanted.  She loved all food, especially popcorn, and loved to be in the way in the kitchen.  All of my recipes included the extra step of "Step over Bailey".

The thing she hated more than thunderstorms though? Squirrels.  Oh, she waged a war on squirrels when we had a backyard.  Bark, run, bark, run, bark, climb trees, bark, run.  No exaggeration!  This dog climbed trees on her hunt to eradicate her home of squirrels.  It was always a shock to look out a window and see her casually coming down a tree.  Twice, this dog went into the backyard whole, and twice she came back with terrible cuts that needed stitches.  Both times, we had no idea what happened.  The second time I took her, I am sure the vet was going to call the CPS version of animal care on me.

Only tree-climbing dog I have ever known.

Bailey moved and moved and moved one more time with me.  Always my constant companion.  She slept at my feet every night and would move until her toes touched mine.  She was comfort and familiarity in every new place.  She would melt into the kids when they came back to visit.  Just sinking into them and sighing and I knew exactly how she felt.  Bailey accepted it when we got two kittens.  I don't think she was ever excited about them but she was very tolerant.  The boy cat loved her so much and followed her everywhere from day one to the  point where we now believe he thinks he is a dog.  He answers to his name and comes running when the door opens.  I thank Bailey for that.  

It had become apparent this last year that Bailey was slowing down.  She was losing weight.  She didn't want to go for walks as much and definitely not as far.  I commented it was like living with an old woman who was very furry and surprisingly agile at times.  And she was an old woman.  She was 12.  She had raised kids and watched them go off to start their lives.  She had moved and moved and moved.  She still hated squirrels but now it was harder to get up and bark at them.  

It is always hard to know when it is time to help a dog move on.  My own selfishness of wanting Bailey with me probably delayed my decision a bit.  She is eating and pooping and all is well, I told myself.  Until I left for a week and came back and saw her.  Really saw her.  Frail and small and hurting.  This dog who had brought us endless joy was now suffering and that wasn't fair at all.  And so it was decided, and it was done, and I am just so sad.

I know it will take awhile to get used to a house without Bailey. I hold my breath a minute as I turn the key in the lock to remind myself that she is not running to greet me. I dropped food on the kitchen floor and as I bent down to pick it up, I cried.  I haven't had to pick food up off the floor; Bailey was always there to eat it up.  I haven't vacuumed yet because her tumbleweeds of fur will be gone and no more will be dropping to replace them.  The boy cat is taking it hard too. He meows looking for her non-stop.

Dogs give us so much in this life.  They give us that constant companion, that built-in best friend, that touchstone of belonging.  They make us interact with other dog people or people they sniff inappropriately as we walk.  They teach us patience, they help us keep a schedule, and they teach our kids responsibility.  There is no dog without a lot of poop to pick up.  They bring out what is best in us because they see it.  They love us when we look bad, feel bad, and even smell bad.  They fill a house with their muddy feet and fur and toys and treats.  They fill our hearts with joy and laughter and love.  They show us what unconditional love looks like.

Everyone talks about dogs and cats crossing the rainbow bridge after death and leading an idyllic life.  No pain, no sadness, just them living their best lives.  When I am not being selfish and thinking how much I miss her, I do like to think of Bailey living her best life.  I know for her it would mean finally catching a squirrel.  So maybe tonight when I go to bed and stretch out my feet and don't feel hers push back, I will think of her in a tree, catching her squirrel and feel a little less sad.

Constant companion.  Best Girl.