Just an ordinary dog

I had a dog.  His name was Little Bear.  We had to put him down last week.  It broke my heart.  

Bear wasn't really anything special.  He was just an ordinary mutt.  Part Chow, part some kind of shepard, all love.  He wasn't very smart, as dogs go.  I think that may be the best kind of dog to have.  He wasn't worried about entertaining himself or finding a job (so he wasn't destructive); he knew his job.  His sole purpose in life seemed to be to figure out what it was his people wanted and do it the best he could. 

When he was a puppy he was a rolly polly little thing and could sit up naturally because his behind was the biggest part of him.  He learned really quickly that his people thought that was adorable and would give him food for it.  He learned basic obedience too, but no real tricks.  He figured his trick was to sit up and look cute and we fell for it every time. 

He didn't like getting yelled at much.  He house broke himself in 4 days.  In 12 years after that I could count his accidents on one hand and they were my fault, not his.  Once he had a doggy door, he even learned that if he needed to throw up, that was best done outside too.  He didn't get yelled at; he just could see that whoever was cleaning it up wasn't happy about it.  He never ate anything that wasn't his to eat...I left a bunch of food on a coffee table all day one time and he didn't touch it.  He didn't raid the garbage or chew things (not even his toys really, he coddled them).  He never needed much discipline, his desire to please was so great that strong discipline was counter productive. 

He had bad habits too.  He barked whenever anyone came in the house.  He had different barks...stranger barks were short and widely spaced and could be contained fairly quickly.  But friends and family had to be greated with great shouts of joy.  It wasn't his fault.  He couldn't help it.  He was simply too excited to understand why we didn't want to be greeted that way.  His joy at seeing us was undeniable.


He knew people too and he never forgot what was ok with who.  He knew who could be jumped on and who didn't like kissies on the face; he knew who would feed him and who would play with him and who might take him for a walk or a car ride on any given occasion.  And he knew the vet.  But he kept his affection to his family and friends; he was a trained therapy dog, but it really didn't work.  He behaved, but he didn't emote affection to the patients; he wasn't loving to them, so we stopped.

He gave hugs and affection, but it changed over time.  When he was young he would push his whole body against me as hard as he could when I asked for hugs.  As he got older and wiser, he would look me straight in the eye and then lower his head so I could put my forehead against his and talk to him when I was sad.  On the last day of his life he sat between my legs and pushed his whole body against me like he hadn't done in years.

Bear smiled.  A big full toothed, black tongued grin that couldn't be mistaken for anything else but a smile.  And his tail only wagged in one direction (to the right), but it wagged anytime someone talked to him.  He carried it up over his back like a chow. 

He loved his picture taken; I don't know why, probably because it seemed to make the photographer happy and got him more attention.  He would hold himself however he thought you wanted him; tall and proud. 

I took him with me to Korea and he had to stay in quarantine for a few weeks.  He never made a fuss about kennels until he got older and it was more upsetting for him.  But we never had a problem finding somebody he could stay with.  He was a good houseguest.

He liked the snow in Korea.  The Koreans didn't like him much.  He was too big and their culture doesn't keep big dogs as pets.  Once when we were coming home from our walk, the downstairs neighbor had left their door open and he charged into thier house on accident.  It really scared them and I felt bad, but they learned to 'like' him after awhile.

He never really got on the furniture without an invitation, even though he wasn't prohibited from it.  He never slept in the bed, but right beside it. 

Up until the last few months, he moved around the house, repositioning himself according to a doggy code of rightness.  He never really over ate and never got fat no matter how much food and how little exercise we gave him.  Sometimes he would eat too quickly and that would make him throw up.  As he got older, human food didn't really agree with him either.

His favorite time of day the last few years has been the time when Bill or Brandon would be working out and he could lay in the front driveway and watch everyone walking by.  He loved car rides, but he rode like a person.  He never put his head out the window and if the trip was long he laid down and went to sleep.  He rode wherever he was supposed to...back seat, cargo area, passenger seat and never tried to bother the driver.  He liked riding in my little convertible once he got used to it (and realized that he got a lot of attention that way).

The only thing worse than going boating, according to Bear, was being left home.  He would ride in any boat, but he didn't like it much.  Oddly though, he loved water.  He would find any water and spin around in it, lay in it, roll in it.  He loved the ocean too, once he got used to the sound.

He loved to play, but he played by his own rules. He didn't demolish his toys, but made them last for years.  He only ate rawhide bones if there was another dog that might take it from him.  His favorite game was to chase around a laser pointer or flashlight.  He didn't care about squirrels or frogs or lizards.  He would threaten a cat, but didn't care to take a real chase, I guess he had lived with too many of them. 

He was scared of Thunderstorms and car washes.  He was scared of sparks from fire too, but he was also brave.  He would try to put out the fire with his mouth to protect his people.  Once he grabbed a bottle rocket and scared us to death.  We got it away from him in time, but we never let him around fireworks again.

He was beautiful as a young dog, but allergies and age ruined his coat. 

He was still beautiful to me.