This began a short tradition of mine. Well, not short as far as time is concerned but short in the number of dogs this tradition effected. Milhous was eventually poisoned and died from internal organ damage at the hands of some unstable neighbors. I mourned the loss of Milhous. My first pet was gone. Barbara worked on talking me into getting another dog. We eventually did get a pup that would become a Christmas present for the family. I named him "Rudolph" or Rudy for short. It fit well because it was Christmas time and I could tell Brett he was named after Santa's reindeer but in reality he was named after President Ford, whose middle name was Rudolph. The tradition had begun. We were on a path of naming our dogs after Republican Presidents which left my mother very confused as to why I would do such a thing and cause my grandfather to further worry about me and my philosophy. It was fun.
Rudy and I were nearly inseparable. We went walking every weekend no matter the weather. He rode with me on rides everywhere I went almost. Rudy knew his limits but pushed them as far as he could. Sometimes he would slip out the front door and take off running. Luckily Rudy loved all our neighbors and when he got out all that had to be done was one of the neighbors to call to him and he would go to their house to get petted and wait for me to arrive to take him home. If it happened that none of the neighbors were out, Rudy would take off running down the street. I would casually walk into the house and get the car keys to drive down the street about eight houses where Rudy would be sitting on the curb waiting for my arrival. When I got to him I would open the car door and he would casually get into the car and get a ride around the block, which thrilled him. Rudy had a good life but as is the case in many retrievers, his hips eventually wore out due to joint displacement. He could no longer pull himself up from when he was lying down. Wherever he lay down, he was stuck until I came along to pick him up. He was in pain and did not have a great quality of life and so we made the painful decision to let him go. Barbara could not even go into the room where Dr. Lyle was going to give Rudy the shot. Brett stayed for a few minutes but then he had to leave. In the end it was just me and Rudy along with the Doctor as he slipped off. I had slept on the floor with him the night before and now I was lying next to him the next morning so he would not be alone. Once again I mourned and once again Barb worked on talking me into getting a third dog.
Emporia, Kansas was where our next dog hailed from. He was a pure bred Golden Retriever and a member of the American Kennel Club. His official name on the papers is "Clark's Ronald Wilson "Dutch" Reagan". Obviously I had high expectations from this dog. Dutch latched onto Barb from the early days as she trained him and got him prepared to be a dog that stood to my expectations. She was pleased with how Dutch would snuggle up with her instead of me and I predicted to her that he might be your pup, but he is going to be my dog. That prediction played out and I reminded Barbara of it plenty of times as the years passed. Like his predecessors, Dutch goes for walks and car rides with me as often as he can. He minds very well, even taking his medicine without protest. He still stuck close to Barb though. As Barb's health began to falter she spent more time at home alone with Dutch. They were together practically 24/7 for over two years. Dutch slept on the floor next to Barb. During this time I was Dutch's play mate while Barb was the comforter and nourished him. He went to her for petting and loving and to me for throwing balls and running around.
Then came July of 2018. Dutch had not seen much of me for a week. I would leave early in the morning before sunrise and come home late at night to let him out, feed him and then go to bed. He was getting needy I think. He had grown accustomed to not being alone in the house for such long periods of time. On that Monday though, I arrived home around five in the afternoon. He met me at the door and started pushing himself into my leg to indicate he wanted to be petted, which I did. I let him outside and filled his water and food bowls for him before letting him back in and going to my room to take a nap. He did not follow me.
When I got up a couple of hours later I found him lying next to the couch. Over the time him and Barbara had spent so much time together, that had become his place to sleep. Barb slept on the couch, and he slept next to her on the floor. As I walked into the living room he sat up and looked at me. His eyes followed me as I went to sit in my chair.I sat in my chair thinking about the days events. My life would never be the same. Neither would his. I looked over at the couch where he was sitting up just staring at me. It was as if he knew that things had changed. He stood up and walked over to me and gently laid his head in my lap and we petted for quite a while. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was very calm, more so than usual.
I finally found some words to say to him. "It's just you and me buddy" I said as I rubbed his chest and he looked at me. Maybe it was just my mood but his eyes seemed very sad to me. As we sat there quietly a song from long ago filtered into my head. "You and Me Against the World" by Helen Reddy. Beautiful song and the words seemed to fit this quiet time so well. From now on it would be me and Dutch together making our way through life.
That night as I wandered off to bed, Dutch stayed at his station next to the couch where Barbara was supposed to be. Her arm was suppose to be reaching down petting him on the head as they both fell asleep. Even though it had been a week since he had felt that comfort, he stayed next to the couch as if she were there. It was where he was suppose to be come night time.
Dutch slept next to the couch for three or four months, expecting Barbara to suddenly appear and pet him to sleep. As was also his custom he would get up at half past five and come to my room to wake me up for work. I took a trip to Alabama to see mom, dad and my sister and to try to get myself use to the new life I would be facing while Dutch spent some quality time with his brother, Bernard, at my cousins.
Me and Dutch have been getting accustomed to the new reality that we face. He now comes into my room with me when I go to bed and sleeps on the floor there. He still wakes me up at five or so every day, including Saturday and Sunday (sigh). The routine has changed a bit for both of us but we have established one that works for each of us. He still misses Barbara though. I can tell. He comes to me for his petting now but I am sure that in his head he is thinking it isn't the same. Dad just doesn't do it as comforting as mom did.
Dutch is getting old now. He has put on weight. His joints are starting to give him trouble. He is slow to lie down and slow to get up. He brings me his ball when it is time to play and lays his head in my lap when it is time to cuddle. He walks over to the back door and looks back at me over his shoulder when it is time to go outside. We communicate very well I think.
I dread the day when Dutch is no longer here. Right now we comfort each other. We help each other through everyday. I need Dutch and Dutch needs me. We are best friends in it together and we keep trying to move forward together.
Yes I do fear the day when I will lose him but for now, "it is you and me buddy". We will get through as much of this as we can ... together ... as a team.
I love you Dutch.
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