Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

A friend’s dog died last week. The dog had been neglected by a previous owner most of his life, living outside where he suffered a number of maladies. The SPCA seized 16 cats and two dogs from the previous owner’s property last September. Four dogs and eight puppies were seized in August.
The dogs were chained outside in muddy conditions and underfed. Two dogs seized from his property tested positive for heartworms, four had Lyme disease and three dogs were emaciated.
The previous owner just didn’t seem to understand what he was doing was wrong, operating under the delusion that at least the dogs were alive and not euthanzied.
My friend made a wonderful home for the dog she adopted. He had a soft bed to sleep in, he ate like a king, which was needed because his ribs were visible when he first went to his new home. The dog was introduced to the beach for the first time in his life, a place like most dogs, he thoroughly loved.
He spent two years living well in the company of an owner who loved him. New owners tend to compensate for the bad years, creating a doggy paradise for their new pets.
We expect a lot from dogs and they deliver plenty in return. We drag them into our human world filled with rules that probably make no sense to a creature that came from a wolf. We expect them to understand the concept that carpeting and furniture is something to treat gingerly, not to chew on, dig holes in or scoot your bottom across.
We expect dogs to tell time. They need to know when it is time to go to bed when we are sleepy, whether they are tired or not, since they probably napped all day on and off.
They need to bide their time while we go to work or the store and leave them alone in a house they are expected to guard against intrusion. At the same time, they must not break anything or pee on the rug no matter how much they need to go.
We expect dogs to ignore their extraordinary sense of smell, and we get bothered when walking on a leash they drag us to something we consider disgusting.
We expect dogs to understand that someone is sleeping in the house, so they shouldn’t bark at the UPS truck or a cat that is sitting on the lawn eying the birdbath.
We feed dogs human food they should never eat, such as chocolate chip cookies or onion rings and get upset when they get sick on the rug.
Life with humans has to be boring for dogs unless someone is home with them all day. Few dogs have been successfully entertained by leaving a radio on all day tuned to a talk station in their owner’s absence.
There are bright spots for dogs: Saturday and Sunday, school summer vacation, ice cream, a ride in the car, a new toy, a belly rub, a lawn sprinkler on a hot day, a trip to Petsmart, the beach, post office or to Douglass Park to watch the ferries and cats. A toddler in the house that drops food on the floor frequently is a delight to canines.
Downers for dogs include taking a bath, although some dogs I’m told will jump in the tub on their own, a trip to the vet and shots, taking medication, getting their nails clipped, being closed in a bedroom when company comes to the house and being separated from their loved ones.
It is very hard to lose a dog. I am to the point in life where I would avoid getting another dog so I do not have to experience another death. There was Lucy the Rat Terrier who got cancer. There was Jacques the Poodle who lived to be 14-year-old despite congestive heart failure. There was Mellie, a Boxer-Spaniel mix, who was hit by a car and was the most perfect dog in the world.
She loved stuffed animal toys, lying in the sun, riding anywhere, obedience class and anything sweet. When no one was looking, she would put her feet on the dining room table and lick the placemats. She knocked out many window screens due to cats, mailmen or squirrels but she was a sweet, loving dog who seemed to have a sense of humor. If you told her something very silly, relating to things she understood, she would wag her tail as if she was laughing.
Mellie loved the beach at the end of Frances Avenue in Villas. We went there at least once a day. Every June, we turned over stranded horseshoe crabs.
She ran like the wind. I think the beach to Mellie meant freedom.
I haven’t been to that particular beach since her passing. I can’t go back.