May 17, 2007
Originally published August 19, 2005
This is an interesting article. I've had several good dogs in my life and only one had a human name.
The first dog was a mutt named "Pudgy," because he was a fat little puppy. He had a lot of black lab in him and he loved the water. He ran the woods with me all the time when I was a boy. Pudge was a damn good dog. He got hit by a car crossing Whitefield Avenue as he followed my brother one day. I still blame my brother for that. He should have NOT run across the road in traffic knowing that the dog would follow him. Pudge made it back home, but he died shortly thereafter. He's buried in my mama's back yard.
The second one was "Wiggles." He lived up to his name, too. I picked him up at the dog pound in Athens, Georgia when I was attending UGA. That was the ugliest damn dog I ever saw. He was some kind of mixed-breed, with some kind of terrier in him, and when he got excited, he bent himself into a semi-circle and beat his face with his own tail. I kept old Wigs for 15 years. That dog would rather ride in a car than eat when he was hungry. If I wanted him to come running, all I had to do was rattle my car keys. He'd hang his head out the window and slobber all down the side of my car, wherever we went, and he traveled all over the southeast United States with me.
He went deaf and blind finally. I think he got the doggy version of Alzheimer's. He's the one I shot, to put him out of his misery. I couldn't stand to see him in the shape he was at the end, and I didn't want a vet putting him to sleep. That was MY job. I cried like a baby afterward, but I laid him down quick and easy. He never knew what hit him.
"Bud" was Jennifer's dog when I met her. He was a BIG sumbitch and mean as hell when he wanted to be, even though Jennifer had him de-nutted as a pup. (Jennifer is GOOD at de-nutting males of any species.) Bud turned out to be a great dog. He'd kill a cat when he saw one, but he was always gentle around children. He had a bark that rattled the walls. NOBODY wanted to walk into my house after they heard Bud bark.
The fucker weighed more than 90 pounds and DID NOT take shit from any other dog. He lived for 17 years and was a damn fine animal, and the only dog I ever had with a human name. I didn't name him.
Quinton told me several months ago that Bud "went crazy" and Jennifer had him put to sleep. I hated to hear that news. Bud was a good dog.
I don't want another dog now. If I get a pup, he'll probably outlive ME for a change.
But if I got one, I'd give it a doggy name, not a human one.
All content © Rob Smith