Man, 2008 is really smacking me around trying to get me to notice. I got the shitty news this afternoon that my dog Rudy passed away. Even though there were long stretches of time that I didn't see him, he and I always had a special bond from the time he was a tiny blind puppy no larger than the size of my fist. He was the outcast of the litter of Golden Retriever, who had to fight the hardest to nurse. His fur was also much darker than his litter-mates further distinguishing him. The little guy used to crawl around on my stomach and chest while I tried to work on my pre-calculus homework assignment. I was nervous my summer back after college thinking he forgot me. Of course, he hadn't, and the next morning when I arose from bed, I opened my door to find him waiting expectantly for me. On later visits home, Rudy woke me up each morning by jumping on the bed and nuzzling his head underneath my neck and forcibly pushing my head off the warm pillow. Man, I would give up a lot or pay a lot of money to experience that memory again.
I used to laugh hysterically at the way he'd chase the beam of a flashlight or the reflection off a watch around the room. Or how he'd run around in circles trying to "catch" his tail after I wagged it in front of his nose. Okay, now it sounds like I just tortured him all the time. He had fun! We used to play tug-o-war with my hand. Of course, he never once actually bit me. He was a smart mofo dog! "Open" and he'd open his jaw no matter how much he. did. not. want. to. give. up. that. toy. "Drop" and he'd drop it either into your hands or floor, although his expression said something like, "Oh, I'm gonna get that back. Just you wait bitch, just you wait." I'd place a toy or dog treat about 10 feet in front of him--of course, after I waved it an inch from his face and nose--and tell him to "Wait!" He'd sit. And wait. And I'd pretend to walk away and turn my back. And then, suddenly turn hoping to catch him running towards the treat! Nope. He'd just sit there looking focused at that treat. "Okay!" I'd say, usually jumping in the air at the same time. Boom! Rudy rocketed himself onto that awaiting treat. I know what that treat must have felt like because he and I had this one game where when he was watching me do something, suddenly I'd stop moving and stare at him. And in response, he'd get down into that hunting mode like lions do on the Discovery Channel. This would go on for a minute, two, five and even as long as ten minutes. And then I'd turn and just start running for my life, because he'd chase me. And there's nothing scarier than a 70 pound dog chasing you, even if he is your buddy. I'd eventually run to the kitchen where I'd leap up on the counter (sorry mom, dad!) to escape. Scary...but so fun!!!
Sometimes when watching a movie, and our dogs were always around sleeping usually, my dad would make a bowl of popcorn. Occasionally and without warning, he'd suddenly toss a handful of popcorn onto the floor. Rudy went after that popcorn, beating out the other dogs, like the bastard child of a pokemon (you know, gotta catch 'em all) and a vacuum.
Man, I'm gonna miss you, Rudy. It was so sad to see you my last time home and find the young pup I used to harass and bug to wrestle or chase ball, now gray haired. It gave me chills slightly at the time, but I remember you gamely tried to still play tug of war with me. I still remember that retarded song that I made up one day a long time ago for you. You were an awesome, awesome dog. See ya around Rooody.
