My Eddie, My Favorite.

Eddie was the most annoying dog I have ever had.

Not the greatest way to start off a eulogy.

But when I say annoying, I actually, probably mean  I adored him, yes he could be aggravating, but I admired him more than anything. He was just here to be noticed. He was here to be in charge. And he was not shy about getting his point across.

He screamed if you tried to take him for a ride in the car. Not howled, not cried, not high pitched bark, screamed like a little girl, or a mousaphobe clamoring for the nearest chair to stand on. He had the loudest bark I have ever heard and served to encourage any other of my dogs to join in...he was the conductor of chaos, the instigator of insolence, the bane of my existence. 

And it's my daughter's fault that I had him with me for the past 15 years. The daughter who poo-poos "dog people" and always demands my latest dog count when she phones me to check in. And when I lie, she has the nerve to cross examine me. Then Eddie usually barks at nothing, sets the other 5 off, and she wants to get off the phone because she doesn't approve. Good dog Eddie, good boy.

My daughter Emelia was 8 when she started volunteering at a local pet store in town. One day she came home and told me there was a litter of the "cutest puppies ever" and I had to go down and see them. Now, telling me to go look at some puppies, or even a dog that needs a home, is very reckless if you then intend to become a poo-poo'er of dog people and hold my 8 dogs against me. I am not a "lets think about it" person. 

 I went down, saw him sleeping in a laundry basket with his litter mates, and because he was the ugliest, I brought him home with me. 

Eddie cuddling with "my favorites"...Pierre, Vinny and Chevy (circa 1999)

                                                                   

My first introduction to Eddie's vocal ability was when I tried to hide the 7 week old fatso from my ex-husband, for no reason other than I didn't feel like getting the "what-are- you- thinking-this-better-not-be-where-my-child-support-is-going-to" speech.  (Actually your kids need shoes....Eddie ate the other ones.) Eddie was sequestered to  back room and I was almost in the clear when he started a rant that seemed impossible to be able to come out of a puppy so small.  It was a full-throated, robust baritone similar to Tom Jones belting out Resurrection Shuffle.  I was busted. I got the speech, but a several years later Eddie evened things up by taking a run at my ex every time he left the house. He always went for the ankle or the calf. My ex tried very hard to be cool and collected but when he heard the galloping weiner dog gaining on him, he would lose some of his macho decorum by speeding up his step and never letting the door hit him in the ass on his way out.

Good dog Eddie, good boy.

Eddie liked food, sex, and to walk around as if he owned the place.

He fathered a couple of litters, and always had an eye for the ladies. All he really needed other than his testicles which were removed against his will, was a smoking jacket and cravat.

He loved all food except dog food.

He ate a whole lemon meringue pie once. 

He got fat.

So fat that he could not get up onto his bed (actually my bed) anymore and although he could get down with no problem, usually to have a mid night snack with a water chaser, he would wake me up to get him back up on the bed.  

Bark. Sigh, Bark, longer sigh.  Bark. Whine, Bark and whine together. 

Eddie go away.

Bark, higher pitched.

Staying half asleep on purpose I would hoist myself up on one elbow and pat the side of the bed so he could get close enough that I could vault him up onto the bed.

He would then develop a fear of heights and run away.

Five minutes later, I am back asleep.

Bark. Bark whine sigh in a combo. Bark higher pitched.

Eddie shut up.

Bark louder.

Eddie shut up louder.

Dog shaming

                                                                          

Whine, whine, inhale and whine (creates a higher and more annoying pitch) then he would progress to a bagpipe cry like he is sobbing while being shaken (believe me it did cross my mind) so I would ultimately throw the covers back saying "fine" with heavy emphasis on the "f" for effect, throw my feet over the side and get up to go pick him up and put him back on the bed. But I would have to catch  him because now he was hiding under the bedside table acting like he was regularly beaten.

 Then, after placing him on the bed,  it was a race between me and him to get back into my place on the bed.  Repeat in about 2 hours. I thought I was brilliant and bought a set of stairs to go up to the bed. It appears in addition to his fear of the car, fear of water, fear of being picked up by the armpits, fear of me getting out of bed enunciating the word "FFFFine",  he also had a fear of going up doggy stairs. There was fifty bucks down the drain which I wish I had because he did like to pee on them.

He had his favorites  in my pack of 10 - always and only the ladies. He hated any male dogs....hated them. I had a cool game I would play that really entertained people. I would pet Eddie and get him sucked into the undying attention thing and then say "Oooh Eddie, Pierre is my favorite." (Pierre was one of several of my male dogs - all lovers not fighters) He would start this low growl. Then if I patted the chair or bed beside him as if i was calling Pierre over "Pierre oh Pierre is my favorite come here Pierre" in my best coochy-coo tone,  Eddie would go ballistic and practically froth at the mouth. Then  I would step it up and say "Oh Eddie, Pierre and Chevy are my favorites,  (growling magnifies) then I would throw in Sophie is my favorite (silence) Missy and Jessica are my favorites..silence, no reaction, then I would throw in Pierre or Chevy to the middle of the list of females..he would react every time one if any male was mentioned. Maybe you had to  be there, but it was hilarious. Even after Chevy and Pierre passed away, I could still say their names in the context of being my favorite and he would growl. 

When he wanted to come in from outside, after all being outside is for dogs....he would lick the window. It freaked us out. He would just keep doing it. Repulsive looking. Sometimes he would press his nose against the window so you would get a full meal deal, nostrils splayed open, some snot flying and his tongue out in all its glory pressed against the window like a piece of ham.

Let me in !!

We always wanted to get a film of him and send it to funniest home videos but we never quite got around to it.

Whenever I came  home, be it from taking the garbage out for 3 minutes, from work, from a movie, he would greet me like I had been away in Europe for a year. It was ridiculous. Once when I had been in the hospital for a week I came home and I actually thought he was the one needing my post op sedation because he was trying to crawl inside my body, he could not get close enough, he was hyperventilating. Even the other dogs stopped saying hello just to step back and watch the show. I think they were embarrassed for him.

 Eddie left no doubt who the love of his life was. 

He was once hit by a car, well, actually he is the one who hit the car. He bounced off the wheel and lay there pretending to be dying. I was beside myself. Then I realized he was concentrating more on me continuing to rub his portly belly than faking death.  He survived with nothing more than a fat lip and I am not joking.  A FAT lip. 

 During this incident, I apparently was heard by my children to refer to him as "My Eddie." They never, ever let me live this down. You see, for the most part I loved to complain about him. I thought our love affair was a secret. But my disrespectful children would always interrupt any complaint I was making with a sarcastically toned 'Oh Myyyyyyyy Eddie." To this day I deny ever using that term of endearment.

One of our favorite times in a life that was so busy with work and children and single parenthood, was when I had some solitude, of course on the toilet, and he would come in and jump on my knee and I would blow in his face and he pretended to hate it, he would grit his teeth in a cheesy smile, but he always came back for more.

Eddie laying on my shoes in the kitchen, his "nephew" Willy was his shadow.

He started to fail a few months ago. He was deaf I think. I saw a cloud over his eyes that always tells when a dog is coming to the end of his journey on earth. He slept a lot. He wasn't quite as bossy but he was still loud. He always ended up where I was despite his loss of hearing and vision.  

I just could not rationalize a character who was such an extrovert, so loud and obnoxious, the 'boss", who had been with me through my divorce, my health scares including two strokes, job loss, poverty, family turmoil, grief, catching my tears on his neck during those times I cried quietly but he was right there, who had been with me from the age of 38 to 53, could possibly disappear from my life. 

My poor old boy.

I had a hard time waking him up once and I took him right up to the vet. I knew something was terribly wrong because he stayed calm in the car. The vet thought that maybe he had a seizure. He also noticed a lump on his chest that I had not seen before. He said it was probably cancer, but given his age there was not much they could do. He said it appeared to be slow growing and he would probably pass from old age first.

He stopped eating a few days ago. He looked a little confused.  He was having problems standing. But he was not suffering. I know this for sure. If he was I would have taken him to the vet. In an instant. He rallied for a day and a night.

His last night with me,  I cuddled with him on the bed and rubbed his tummy and reminisced, out loud, about all our times together.  I talked about Pierre and Chevy and he didn't flinch but I swear his heart rate went up a little. I told him I loved him and was so happy he had been my dog. He knew I was there with him. He put his paw on my hand and weakly pushed it down.....to rub his tummy.

He passed fairly quickly. It was very uncharacteristic of Eddie to do something so dramatic without being dramatic at all.

I think he died quietly because he had used up all his energy on earth. I think his soul was tired. I think he was at peace knowing he had made a difference in our world.  He had been a huge presence in our family. He will always be a huge presence in my heart.

He will be one of the ones, when you reminisce,  you always start with "Remember when ..." and a smile comes over your face. 

My Eddie. He was my favorite. Forever and ever.

Eddie Thomson  April 9, 1998 - October 2, 2013.

Last goodbye.