(12 Weeks)
We had limited our family vacations because of the added expense for boarding the dog. After Malachy died in October we were between dogs, so we went to Colonial Williamsburg for a short family getaway at Christmastime. At first Chris said, “No more dogs!” then it became, “No more terriers” and “it can’t shed.” So as soon as we got back from that trip my daughter and I started searching for a dog that fell within Dad’s parameters before he changed his mind.
The previous summer when Malachy was still very much alive, I read the book The Art of Racing in the Rain. Since we had two dogs with literary-inspired names, I knew my next dog would be “Enzo.” I just didn’t realize it would be so soon.
When we started our search, we were looking for a dog that wasn’t a terrier, didn’t shed and looked like an Enzo. My daughter found him on the internet at an Aussie-doodle breeder in Stonefort, Illinois. This little, mostly black, ball of fur was the last of his litter and would be old enough to ship that week.
We paid for him with PayPal (I felt so 21st Century!) and his picture was taken down from the website. Because I was somewhat skeptical that he’d survive the trip, we didn’t tell the girl. She was crushed when she went to the web site again that night, but I held on to my belief it was for the best.
This place was so far south in Illinois, the breeder was shipping him out of St Louis. He was booked on a flight to Newark with a layover in Dallas-Fort Worth. I was tracking him the entire way. It was a long day. Once we knew the flight was arriving on time, I announced that I had to pick up “something for work” at the airport and asked if anyone wanted to take a ride with me. We were all in.
On January 5, 2011, Enzo was home. I had felt that Malachy had been my soul dog and this one’s purpose was merely to fill a void. I knew having a dog in the house was good for everyone But this one was going to be everyone’s dog, not mine.
He wouldn’t run with me. On a few attempts he took off at top speed dragging me down the path until he was exhausted and just laid down and made me carry him back to the house. I figured out he was a sprinter, not a long-distance runner. He loved to run the fence line in our yard chasing cars to the point of obsession and wore out a path in the grass.
He wasn’t neutered until he was almost four. I’m not sure why since his/our other dogs had always been, but Chris was dead set against it like it was some assault on his own manhood. It took the dog ejaculating on our bed for me to win out.
He was mischievously smart. He was also a bit of a scavenger. He would honestly eat anything. Not sure what he got in to, but he was once diagnosed with “inflamed intestines” because he ate God knows what. When asked what he ate, I said “$936.” Surprisingly, right up until the end that was the only real bad vet bill.
He loved Starbuck’s pup cups, anything within his reach on the dining room table or kitchen counter (especially PB&Js).
I witnessed him killing a groundhog in the yard once which was incredibly disturbing and made me wary of every getting a cat for a very long time. One summer he ate the raw intestines of rabbit in our neighborhood that was killed for him by a local coyote. I guess I should be pleased he lived as long as he did.
While he had some dog friends, he didn’t really like dog parks and preferred the company of humans. When I’d have guests over sitting around the dining room table, he’d keep bringing them his things (his toys and whatever else he could find). By the end of the evening, there would be a whole bunch of stuff piled under the dining room table. And if there was someone who didn’t like dogs, he’d stand right next to them often putting his head or a paw on their knee.
He lived through a lot with me in his short 13 years. He had met my mom (who died in 2012), comforted me through cancer treatment, and was the last one to see Chris alive. He was an incredible comfort to us in the aftermath of those loses and in 2018 he rode shotgun with me for the 800-mile drive to Illinois.
Having a dog when my daughter was a teen helped me feel loved when everyone else in the house seemed to be turning on me. And then, in an empty nest, in a new city, I still had someone to care for and go exploring with. I remember our first walk to the lake. He put his nose right up to the water, got splashed, and had enough of that!
He was overwhelmed by the smells of the city! My first place was an apartment east of Broadway in Lakeview East. It’s such a dog-friendly neighborhood, where shop owners leave water bowls and treat containers out! We made some friends who lived in our building and started taking our afternoon walks together frequently! Enzo officially had friends that he was excited by and whose company he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.
That seems like a long time ago, and yet more than a year now since he left us, I can still feel him and remember sitting on the edge of Lake Michigan and remembering how warm his fur felt against my skin in the sunshine.
Did you really think this wasn’t going to include a fundraiser? It’s me. Of course it is! Over the course of these 60 weeks, I am hoping to raise $6000 for the children of Mercy Home for Boys & Girls (that’s just $100 a week!). To learn more about Mercy Home and my why, please visit my fundraising page. Thank you.
