Abby Wouldn't Wear Two Leashes

Before I explain how I knew Abby would not wear two leashes, I'll give a background on our walking routine. Normally, I initiated the process by asking them if they wanted to "go walk" or "go pee-pee." Almost everytime, the Babies would hurry down the hall towards the door. While they were waiting for me, I'd put on my shoes. If it was cold, a coat; and if it was raining, a hat. I'd grab the leashes resting on the bookcase along with my keys and put the leashes on the Babies.

The Babies learned not to fidget when I put the choke collar on. I'd slip it over their heads, after which, we would go out the door and on our way. Normally, the event went off without any hitches unless a neighbor caught me talking to the Babies or something like that.

However, I have a tendency to be absent minded. I've put the milk in the kitchen cabinets or dirty dishes in the bathroom sink. Stuff like that. It was during one of these pre-walk routines when my absent mindedness surfaced and Abby snapped me back to reality.

Forgetting about putting a leash on Abby, I tried to put a second leash on her, but she moved her head to the side. I tried again. Abby moved her head down. On the third try, she turned her head around. She would not let me put on the second leash-absolutely refused.

I became agitated at this point and gave Abby a direct order to stay still. I realized then that she already had a leash on. In her own way, she was trying to tell me. What amazed me was that she knew something was different and out of place. Abby was smart enough to not only realize something was wrong but she found a way to tell me about it.

Drug Dealers and The Babies Didn't Mix

There are a couple of nightclubs where I used to live. There was some recreational drug use and subsequently, some drugs sold in the area. The sellers were around most of the day. They would hang around the entrance of the clubs, the sidewalks by the clubs or even the street corners. When I moved into my condo, the sellers were bold and blatant with their activity. The only way for them to be any more obvious would be if they put a sandwich board on with the words "Drugs for Sale." Considering that the Raleigh Police Department's headquarters was a block away, these guys were flouting the law. I didn't approve of what they did, but I had to admire their nerve.

After a while, I became familiar with their faces but never did I acknowledge them. And they didn't acknowledge me, either. We were in separate worlds.

I noticed that the dealers did not like my dogs. If they were walking towards us on the sidewalk, they would step off the sidewalk, go across the street and keep continue going wherever they were going. It couldn't have been more obvious that they were avoiding me.

There are some who might say "How do you know they were selling drugs?" Well, I had a pretty good hunch. About a year or two later, the cops started cracking down on the drug selling. Initially, the cops would stand at the sidewalk and street corners the sellers stood at. This merely shifted the sellers further away from the clubs. I also saw cops doing stake-outs in unmarked cars a block away. Lastly, the guys avoiding the Babies didn't look "Fabulous" enough to be patrons at the nearby clubs. (Those clubs are gay bars.)

After the police crackdown, the guys who I suspected of dealing went away.

Even though I thought of my Babies as harmless sweethearts, obviously not everyone shared my affection for them. It's OK. I had more than enough love for the Babies to make up for any ill-will some may have had for them.

The 16' Retractable Leash

This is about the first time I used a long, retractable leash with the Babies. Yes, I’m one of those assholes who had those leashes extending from one end of the block to the other. And I don’t give a crap what anyone thinks. Those leashes made walking two big dogs much easier. They had more freedom to move around. It gave them some privacy and space when they used the bathroom. They had more room to explore on the grounds by the sidewalk. Granted, I do not suggest using such leashes for every dog. If a dog is too unmanageable and uncontrollable, another type of leash should be chosen in place of these long retractable ones.

The first time I used one with the Babies was during our evening walk. I still used the choke collar I had used with the shorter leashes. I kept the leash at about 3 or 4 feet at first. The Babies didn’t notice anything different initially. We made our way down the hall and out front to the sidewalk. I still kept the leash at a short distance. When we got to the intersection, we stopped at the light. I thought we’d try out the extension on the way across the street. About halfway across the street, I un-clicked the lock so the leash could freely extend. Immediately, I could feel the separation between me and the Babies. In tandem, their little legs start to speed up as they realized their new found freedom. They kept hustling until the leash went as far as they could go. It was as if the Babies were thinking “We’re free!!”

They didn’t question or balk at their new roaming abilities. They explored and sniffed around at things they had not experienced before. I quickly learned how to retract the leash such as when I needed to keep close control over the Babies. I tended to shorten the leash when on the sidewalks but extend it inside the park.

Those leashes were worth every penny I spent on them.

Does Anyone Admit to Being the Crazy Neighbor?

I won’t admit that I was the crazy neighbor. However, I will admit that my neighbors probably thought I was crazy or at least eccentric. For example, on one day, I was about to take the Babies out for a walk to the park. I was at the door putting my shoes on and about to put the leashes on the Babies. I must say now that people talking on one side of those condo doors can be clearly heard on the other side as if the door wasn’t there at all. Fortunately, the noises from the hall dissipate rapidly on going from the hall to the living room and vice versa.

Unfortunately for me, I was standing right beside the door so if anyone was on the other side, my voice could be easily and clearly heard by someone else.  I was chattering to the Babies as if they could understand everything I said—like they were people. I was probably telling them how much I loved them or how pretty they were. Of course I was using the tone one would use for addressing babies, real human babies. I should also note that anyone who lived in that building for a while knew that I lived alone. So, if anyone outside of my door heard me talking, that person would know that I was not talking to another person.

After I said what I had to say to the Babies and put the leashes on them, I swung the door open. A couple from the other end of the first floor was walking down the hall near my door. In unison, they moved their eyes from my door to a spot on the floor several feet in front of them. They kept walking by deliberately avoiding eye contact with me and locking there stare at some invisible spot on the ground. Their avoidance was obvious. The guy did smirk a little.

I knew what they were thinking. They thought I was crazy as hell. Their amusement was palpable, too. They knew I lived alone and that I was talking at length to no one but my dogs. I’ve had those awkward feelings myself with people who were not quite all there. We all have, such as with the really smelly guy on a bus or a park bench talking at length to a phantom conjured up in his head. You want to look, know you shouldn’t but you do anyway.

I think that is how my neighbors felt on that awkward afternoon several years ago. They were eavesdropping on someone’s privacy and were quite entertained by it until they got caught. One doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know that they thought I was at least a little weird or even a little crazy. I lala’d my Babies a whole lot and didn’t give a shit who knew.

Neighbor's Dog Tried to Kill Andy

Near the scene of the crime

Christmas Day 2008

My neighbor’s Bull Terrier, Turbo, attacked Andy in the hallway. What a shitty punctuation mark to an overall shitty year. I was on my way to see my cousin when I looked through the front door and saw Turbo and one of its owners trying to come in the door. I immediately changed directions to go out the side door. Turbo, unleashed and without barking or growling, scampered right to us, ran in front of Andy jumped up and chomped on Andy’s face, not letting go. I pulled Andy back and Turbo wouldn’t give. He wouldn’t listen to me. Even worse, he wouldn’t listen to his owner. He intensified his efforts to kill Andy. I screamed at the owner to get her goddamn dog off mine. I had a split second decision to make. I thought about kicking the shit out of the dog. I also thought about running back in my condo, getting something and killing the dog. Fortunately, I had some strength in me that I didn’t know I had and pulled Andy loose.


We immediately went outside and got in the car. Andy’s ear was bleeding. The other owner ran out, apologized and said he’d pay for the vet bills. Andy needed 10 stitches. The bill was over $600. I left the bill at the owner’s door the next day. It took him a week until he gave me a check. In the meantime, the delay led me to think he wasn’t going to pay. I was thinking about suing that son of a bitch. That god damn little psychopathic dog was not on a leash. You don’t have to make an “A” in torts to know that it smells like negligence.

I even thought about suing the HOA. Our HOA rules stated that no more than 2 pets can live in a unit. Turbo was a new addition to that unit, the third pet. The HOA board knew about this rule violation and did nothing about it. Had that little bastard not lived at that place, Andy would have never been attacked. I’m sure that claim would be weak, but it would be nice to put the HOA on the defensive after all their high-and-mightiness over the last few years. Luckily, Turbo’s owner paid the bill in full.

From then on out, I always carried a hammer with me when I took Andy for a walk. I was going to knock the shit out of that bastard if he so much as snarled at Andy. Andy is such a sweet dog. I’ll be goddamned if I was going to have him die at the jaws of that bloodthirsty little bastard.

I don’t know why someone wants a Bull Terrier to begin with. They are ugly as hell. Take a close look at one and not just a glimpse at a distance to see what I mean. In the canine world, they are the missing-link knuckle-draggers with pronounced brow ridges and sloping foreheads. They look like dumb little bastards. They have zero personality. And when they go berserk (and believe me, they will), they go into a blind rage oblivious to other people or even their owners. Personally, I’d put my dog down if he savagely attacked another dog like that, especially after he ignored its owner during the attack. They lost control over the dog and it subsequently almost killed another dog. That dog is a lawsuit waiting to happen.

I Scared Andy When Studying for the LSAT

Four weeks before my rescheduled LSAT date, I studied in earnest. I had “Plan B”, my preparations for finding a new job, ready to go if I bombed on the LSAT as my practice tests indicated I would. My first two tests were especially atrocious. No law school in the land, even the online ones, was going to grant me admission. But, I paid for the prep course, materials and test, so I was going to take this mother fucker.


Every day, I’d go over at least 20 questions in the logical reasoning segment, my worst segment. I didn’t care how long it took me to get the right answer. I would stare at the book until I got the right answer. Just for the LR section alone, I would take 90 minutes of studying each day. Gradually, very gradually, the time I needed to find the right answers went down.

As fate would have it, a wrinkle was thrown into my study plans. Andy was scared when I studied. He would lay down, point his face directly at me and stare at me with a wide-eyed expression. I knew that look and seen it many times before. He had that look when I chewed gum or popped the bubble-packaging from a UPS delivery. The intensity and focus on my face made him nervous. I loved him a whole bunch but there was no way in hell I was going to let a crazy-ass dog derail my studying. Damn, if that dog didn’t live his life in fear.

I had to do something. First, I left the TV on but kept the volume down low. Usually, I’d keep it on TV Land with something like Bonanza or Gunsmoke. I would then pause every 5 or 10 minutes, look at Andy and say something nice to him. He settled down after my efforts to calm him down but he was still slightly on edge.

My God does day-time TV suck. TV Land was the only station I could stomach during that time slot. Everything else was either some talk show or a judge show. If this is what I have to look forward to when I retire, then retirement is going to suck.

Andy Left Alone in the Evenings

The first night I attended my LSAT prep course would be the longest I had left Andy alone in quite a while. He was accustomed to me being around all the time and expected it. Taking this course would be “Step 1” towards getting into law school. The course spanned 6 weeks and ended just days before I was to take the real thing. Maybe it was hubris leading me to believe that a month’s worth of preparation would be sufficient. After all, that was the amount of time I needed for the GRE 14 years earlier and I did well on that. For those who don’t know what “hubris” means, it’s a “negative” word, i.e., not one used to flatter. The cold fist of the LSAT would hit me in the face which will be left for another entry to elaborate.


On the first night of the prep course, we took a full-fledged timed LSAT test, but without the writing segment. Counting the introductions and administrative actions and my drive-time, I had left Andy alone for 4-5 hours. He was waiting in the hall for me. I hadn’t seen him this excited in a long time. He grabbed a toy and shook his tail so hard that it made the rest of his body “wag.” He breathed hard and started snorting because he could breathe only through his nose. My Baby Boy had been all alone in the universe, a singularity. I was happy to see him happy.

The joy Andy brought me softened the blow of a not-so-great night. I bombed on the practice exam, finding out 3 days later. Even worse, after 3 hours of intense focusing on reading, my strained eyes could not re-focus when I looked up. I also had a headache. I was going to need reading glasses.

To Kill a Mockingbird

I didn’t kill a mockingbird but I did slap the shit out of one. In the spring of 2008, a pair of mockingbirds built a nest near an entrance of the park Andy and I used. To make matters worse, the nest was near Andy’s “spot” where he used the bathroom. Dogs have their spots and tend not to go outside them. Some will hold it until they can make it to their “spot.”


The bird first announced itself by chirping loudly. It would sit on a branch close to us and chirp at us. This was not a sweety-pie songbird chirping. He was loud and abrasive. We paid it no mind and kept walking. When this didn’t work, the bird would start to fly by us. It would swoop by us and swarm around us until we reached a comfortable distance from its nest.

Within a few days, the bird escalated its hostilities and started strafing Andy. It would dive in and tap Andy on his rump. Andy would tuck his tail in fear. The chirping scared him enough but the physical assault was too much for Andy. He already had neurotic tendencies and the bird only exacerbated them. Andy, luckily, would find another spot to use the bathroom. But our problems got worse.

The bird started attacking me. Unlike Andy, I would fight back. Even though the bird would attack from the rear, I have good hearing and could hear its wings flapping right as it closed in on me. I turned around and backhanded it with my left hand. I made direct contact with it and knocked him away a few feet. I thought he would leave us alone. I was only half right.

He stopped attacking me but redoubled his efforts at Andy. I put my arm over Andy’s rump, the bird’s site of attack. Undeterred, the bird simply shifted its attack site and started popping Andy on his head. The bird further intensified its efforts by sitting on a light pole across the street and chirp loudly at us while we were waiting to cross the street to go to the park. This was an aggressive son of a bitch, and Andy was starting to shake and cower in fear. The bird would even chase us back across the street as we left the park, down the sidewalk and around the corner. He would not give up and he almost won. I came very close to letting Andy stay at my mom’s until this thing passed over. The fear almost paralyzed Andy.

Out of desperation, I took a long-stem umbrella with me during our walks. I kept it closed and would swat at the bird when he attacked Andy. After a few brushes with the umbrella, the bird fell back and would chirp loudly at us. I had to hold the umbrella over Andy or the bird would take a swipe at Andy. Otherwise, the umbrella worked. The trade-off was me looking like an eccentric nut holding a closed umbrella over my dog while we went walking.

Andy Must Have Been a Republican

Andy would not let the Raleigh mayor pet him one day when he tried to pet him. I was embarrassed. The guy was trying to be nice and he probably liked dogs. Andy wanted nothing to do with him. Andy didn’t know how pretty he was and how much dog-lovers wanted to pet him. He was that beautiful.


The mayor was a nice enough guy. I didn’t vote for him. I rarely vote Democrat, and Mayor Meeker is a Democrat. He was at the helm for 10 years while Raleigh grew at a steady clip. He didn’t fuck things up so I suppose he did a good job.

My old condo building is catty-corner to the Municipal Building (“City Hall”) where Meeker governed. He’d pass by us many times while we were on our late afternoon walks so I think he had a sense of familiarity with us that day when he tried to pet Andy. The Mayor wasn’t the only person Andy shunned but given that this was the mayor, I didn’t want him to feel slighted or be a shit-ass to him. How was he to know Andy lived his life in fear and was scared of strangers? From then on, I’d smile and nod at the mayor when our paths crossed. This was in contrast to my normal rule of not acknowledging or greeting strangers. Like Andy, I wanted to be left alone. But out of respect for the mayor, I’d make eye contact and say “Hello.” He’d return the smile and keep going down the sidewalk to his car. I wonder if he thought Pandy Please was a Republican.

Andy's Separation Anxiety

All alone outside. What a pitiful face.

Andy's Reaction to "I'll be back"

Andy had separation anxiety when he was younger which subsided for quite a while until a few years later when he was living alone with me at my condo. Andy’s separation anxiety did not lead him to tear things up or for him to pitch temper tantrums like Abby did when she was alone. For example, Andy would scratch at the door if he were left alone outside. If Andy needed to go to the bathroom, he would let us know and we’d let him out. Once he had taken care of his personal business, he didn’t want to be alone any longer. He would scratch at the door to tell us to let him in. Also, if we had been out of the house for a while, Andy would jump up on the side door before we opened it and scratch vigorously. We have two doors with permanent scratch marks.


This separation anxiety subsided when he matured but it resurfaced when he was around 7 when he lived alone with me at my place. He didn’t mind it when I left for work. He had some sleeping to do and had no time to sulk. He’d bid farewell (i.e. he let me pet him) and went into the living room to lie down. But in the evenings when I left him alone to go somewhere, he did not take it well.

Before I left, I always said “I’ll be back.” If I said that later in the day, he would pout and sulk. If he had a toy in his mouth, he would drop it and stare at me blankly. He would also put on an expressive show of sadness by drooping his ears and hanging his head down. He would not let me pet him. Andy would go by me to the stairs and went up into the loft. He could not bear to watch me leave. His heart was broken. I’d always tell him “bye bye” and would ask him to see me but he absolutely refused to say good-bye to me.

I was curious to see how long it would take him to go back downstairs after I left so one day, I stood just outside my door when I left. I quietly waited and about a minute later, I heard him ‘boom boom boom’ down the steps. I immediately opened the door and caught him while he was on the landing. He stood motionless. He would not come all the way down. He was sending me a message. If he was trying to make me feel guilty, he succeeded.

Andy's Fears:Loud noises: Thunder & Fireworks

Saying that a dog is scared of thunder or fireworks is about as trite and common-place as a traffic report. It’s boring but expected. The problem with Andy’s fears on the matter concerned his going to the bathroom. If there were a storm going outside, Andy would not go. Period. I don’t care if he had enough urine in his bladder to fill Lake Ontario, he would not go outside. Instead, he would walk as close to me as he could. I could feel his body quivering. On the times when I tried to take him out but was cut short because of an unexpected storm, I would have to take him back inside and wait the storm. Once the storm passed, I could then take him out to take care of business. But if I did not take him out, maybe because the storm raged well into the night, Andy would sneak off the bed in the middle of the night, go downstairs and pee-pee and poo-poo. I’d remind him the next morning how he was bad but I didn’t punish him: “Did you do that?” or “Bad boy”. But I wouldn’t spank him. The verbal scolding was enough.


On one 4th of July, I was walking Andy in the park when a fireworks display began 3 blocks away in the downtown area. I knew the State Fair Grounds had a fireworks display. It has been a tradition in the Raleigh area drawing thousands of spectators. Unfortunately, I didn’t know about the downtown event and was caught and exposed to the ground shaking explosions. Andy crouched to the ground, almost paralyzed in fear. I thought I was going to have to pick him up and take him back inside. Luckily, I was able to plead him to go back home with me. My poor Baby Boy was scared shitless. I always take careful steps to avoid stressful situations such as firework explosions. I didn’t do a good job that night.

A Three-Legged Pit Bull Got in My Car

The fenced in area.

Those were words I never thought I’d say, but on a hot summer’s afternoon 4 or 5 years ago, it happened.

A quick intro to Hopi the Pit Bull

My neighbor was vacationing out West when he adopted this pit bull, Hopi. I think he said they found her on an Indian reservation. How she lost part of her back leg, I don’t know and never asked. It can’t be a happy story. I think she was a “below the knee” amputee. Even though my neighbor was on a cross-country motorcycle trip, Hopi rode on his bike back to North Carolina. That must have been quite a sight!

Back to the Story

When I first saw her, I immediately went to DEFCON 2. My old fears of dogs came rushing back to me. Even worse, I had to worry about Andy’s safety. Luckily for me and Andy, Hopi was a sweet girl. She absolutely loved Andy. She wanted to be his girlfriend so much. Andy couldn’t have cared less about her. He tolerated her but he wasn’t thrilled to have her around whenever their paths crossed. Andy would be stand-offish while Hopi would be visibly excited and cried trying to get to Andy. It was cute and endearing watching a dog that much in love with another.

One day, Hopi’s owner asked if his dog was bothering me at my place. Confused, I said no. I asked him why he wanted to know. He said almost every day, instead of turning right to go outside, Hopi would turn left and run to my door and start crying. She knew Andy lived there and was trying to visit him. That kind of cuteness almost made me want to squeeze her. I asked him if Andy ever heard her and barked. He didn’t. Hopi would sit outside my door and whimper. Her owner had to coax her away almost every time.

On that summer day, Hopi and Piggy were at the north end of the building. The north end is fenced-in but there is a small gap by the side for a small dog to squeeze through. Hopi did just that. While Hopi absconded, I was putting Andy in the car to go bye-bye. I could hear high pitched whining and looked across the parking lot. Hopi was making a bee-line right towards us. I couldn’t believe how fast she could move. She could really scoot! Before I could push Andy in and close the door, Hopi jumped into the backseat with Andy. She made it to her man and had him at last! Andy was nonplussed. Other than looking at her with a bewildered expression, Andy didn’t do anything. Hopi was crying in jubilation and rolled on her back for me to pet her. By that time, her owner was at my car to retrieve Hopi. He apologized and brought Hopi back to the fence.

I had never petted a pit bull before that day. I thought since she was a female, she may not have the tone and muscularity a male does. I was wrong. Petting her was like petting a rock covered in a blanket. She was solid—all muscle. And for a moment in time, she was in my car. Before that day, I would never have bet on a pit bull getting in my car, let alone a three-legged one, but one did.

Andy Thought My Cereal Was His Dog Food

When I ate Reese’s Puffs cereal, Andy took an exceptional interest in what I was eating. Andy begged occasionally but he didn’t have down to an art like Abby did. He did not give me much attention when I ate. But when I ate this particular cereal, he would crane his neck up and lock his eyes on me without breaking his stare. Even his little ears were perked up. Though it was a cutie-pie face, I didn’t know why he took so much interest in this cereal.


One day after passing by his food bowl, I realized why he was so interested in that cereal: it looked just like his dog food! He thought I was eating his food! I forgot which brand of food I bought Andy but I remember what it looked like. The dog food was in the shape of little spheres with a diameter no wider than a dime. The food was also brown. Like the dog food, the cereal was shaped into spheres with a diamter no wider than a dime. The chocolate flavored spheres were the same brown color as the dog food. The peanut butter spheres were light brown. But with Andy’s bad eyesight, he probably couldn’t tell the difference.

Andy begged so intensely for that cereal causing me to cave in and give him some. I’d throw one piece at a time to him and he’d almost always catch it. He absolutely loved it. It was funny how he thought I was eating his dog food.

Close Enounters with Cops

On our walks, the Babies and I came across cops on several modes of transportation. Some were in cars, on motorcycles, Segways, bikes, horses or foot. The cops on Segways and bikes could sneak up on people easily. The Segways were surprisingly fast. I guess they could go well over 25mph.


The Babies and I had two close encounters with cops during our walks in the park. The first one took place in the first year I was living downtown. I didn’t see these guys until they were a few feet from us. They were young guys and were wearing shorts, but not the Officer Dangle Shorts. Most cops would go past us, maybe nod but wouldn’t stop to talk. These guys did.

One cop wanted to pet Andy. Everyone wanted to pet Andy because he was so damned pretty. Andy cowered away. I felt embarrassed so I told the cop Andy was scared of the bike. The cop got off the bike, and then Andy let the cop pet him. I made small talk with them. I asked them how long their shifts were, how far their patrol range was and about how miles they went on a typical shift. I asked them what it was like after their first day riding around on a bike and if they had saddle sores the next day. One cop said “I felt like I had spent a day in the federal penitentiary.” It was a vivid description but the point was made. After a few minutes, we all went about our business.

The next close encounter took place a few weeks after Abby moved away. We were taking our late evening walk and were a little over halfway through our walk. A few dozen feet away, I saw two guys on the circular walk but didn’t think much of it. We had encountered and passed by many others who were standing around on the sidewalk. I didn’t give much thought to these guys.

However, when I was almost within arm’s reach of them, I was jolted to realize a cop was making an arrest. The suspect was standing, legs slightly apart, with his hands clasped behind his neck. I startled the cop because I got too close to him. He didn’t say anything to me but he did glance my way. I guess he correctly surmised that we were of no threat to him or the arresting process. I immediately turned around and went another way. The cop could have chewed my ass out for coming so close to him during the arrest, but I guess common sense and civility won out.

What stood out to me was how quiet and orderly the arrest was. The cop didn’t display overly aggressive hyper-masculine behaviors. For example, the cop didn’t yell at the guy, wield any weapons, force the guy on the ground and force a knee on the perp’s back. The suspect didn’t mouth off, resist, back talk or otherwise act a fool. Everything was so orderly and choreographed.

That was unlike a scene in Cops or To Catch a Predator where the cops man-handle the perps. They throw the guys on the ground, pounce on them and overwhelm them. When I saw the park arrest, I compared it to TV arrests I had seen. Were the TV cops hamming it up for the cameras? Could it have been a regional issue where cops from places such as Florida, California or New Jersey are dicks while the cops in North Carolina are more professional and even-handed?

A Vacation Day Taken Out of Guilt

Andy's Waiting Place

Since Abby would no longer come to my condo, I worried about Andy when he came over to stay. He had never been alone. He went from a home with a litter of puppies to a house with my mom and two dogs that stayed at the house almost all the time. Now, when Andy was at my condo while I went to work, he would be all alone in the universe, a singularity. I worried he would have separation anxiety or be scared. I wondered what he would do all day. Would he pine away at my absence? I felt so guilty leaving him behind.


I took a vacation day out of guilt one day after Andy started spending time alone at my condo so I could be with him. It would be a Baby Boy Day. I wanted to know what he did all day. After his morning walk, he would eat and then sleep. He slept almost the whole day. He would get up to play around 10:30 sometimes but then go right back to sleep. The only thing that changed with Andy was where he slept during the day.

In the morning, he slept in the living room either on the couch or rug. As the day progressed, he would move closer and closer to the door where I went in and out of the condo. I could almost tell time by where he was sleeping. By the time of the day when I’d normally arrive home, Andy would be at the rug by the door. He had developed a habit of waiting there so he could readily greet me upon my arrival. It was funny how he would move closer to the door during my day off even though I was sitting a few feet from him. He was a creature of habit.

I didn’t feel bad leaving Andy at home after that day. Andy was starting to slow down, too. He wanted to sleep all day and didn’t mind being left alone.

A Stranger Misses Abby

About a week after Abby moved back with my mom, I was taking a late-night walk with Andy in the park. There was nothing remarkable about that night. The weather was OK and the usuals were hanging around the park. I would not have remembered the night at all had it not been for a conversation I had with a homeless guy.


He was sitting on bench. He was probably in his 40’s and was a lanky black guy. I had never spoken to him before that night. As I passed by him, he asked me a question: “What happened to the other one? Don’t you have two dogs?”

I was surprised he had noticed. I told him about Abby’s injury and how she couldn’t live with me anymore. Otherwise, she was doing well living with my mom. He was glad to know she was still alive but expressed his sorrow that her injury forced her to move.

I know I didn’t recognize the guy, but I wondered if Abby had ever greeted him on one our previous walks. She was always curious and would greet anyone who would show her attention. I know many people liked to look at the Babies just as I liked to look at other people’s dogs. Maybe that guy was one of those people and in some way, he missed Abby. He thought she was gone. At least she wasn’t “gone” gone!

Adjusting to the New Living Arrangement

Andy and I adjusted to our new living arrangements after Abby moved back in with my mom. When I arrived home from work, Andy was still happy to see me but he did act a little different. Before, he would trot alongside Abby as she greeted me at the door. After, Andy would grab a toy and put it in his mouth, then greet me. He was so excited with his tail wagging and body twisting. He would also let out a few snorts because he was breathing hard out of his nose. I would bend over to pet him and then grab his leash and ask him if he wanted to go walking. He would go but only after taking a detour to the food bowl. During the day while I was gone, Andy would not eat even though food was available so by early evening he had quite an appetite. It was hard getting him to eat at times, so when the urge hit him to eat, I let him eat.


Our walks in the park were about the same. We took the same route. I’d talk to him and sometimes sing to him. I don’t know if Andy understood me but hearing my voice probably soothed him much like hearing a cat purr soothes me. And yes, I’m aware of how eccentric this sounds.

In the evenings, Andy would spend more time on the couch with me. Before, he would lie on the rug close to Abby. After, he would cuddle beside me, especially in the winter.

The biggest change in Andy’s behavior was during sleeping. When Abby was with us, Andy had to sleep at the head of the bed beside me, and he would stay there the whole night. It was sort of like a game of “King of the Mountain” for him, and he was the king. He positioned himself there so Abby wouldn’t grab that place.

After Abby moved away, Andy would climb off the bed soon after I fell asleep and stay on the rug. If it was warm, he would stay on the hardwood floor. The way I knew he got off the bed soon after I fell asleep is because I caught him doing so many times. Sometimes when I was falling asleep, my snoring would awake me. It was then I’d see Andy tip-toeing off the bed in a furtive manner. Now that Abby wasn’t around, Andy didn’t have to worry about playing pecking-order games. No longer did his comfort have to take a backseat to his territoriality.

Abby's Choice

While Abby was recuperating from her surgery, I spent a lot of time at my mom’s. Also during this time I did not take Andy over to my place on the few nights I did stay over there. The Babies were a set that I didn’t want to break up. They went together like salt and pepper; ham and eggs; and grits and gravy. About a month after Abby’s ACL surgery, Abby was doing pretty good. I was in the kitchen when I asked them if they wanted to go bye-bye. Andy bubbled with excitement and did a tapped his feet on the ground as he shifted from one leg to another. I called this his “Happy Dance.” Clearly, Andy was ready to go.


Abby, on the other hand, did not share Andy’s enthusiasm. Instead, she sat on the rug and hung her head down. She essentially said “No, I’m not going.” I asked her again. She would not look me in the eye. She wasn’t up to the strain all the walking downtown would put on her. Abby would never spend the night at my place again. She would spend the rest of her days at her old home. I felt bad for her. She would not spend as much time with me and Andy. I worried she would miss us and become depressed again like when I moved away to NJ. However, a few months later something would happen that would bring a new person to my mom’s house. My dad would move back in with my mom. My dad loved dogs and Abby would start to love my dad. They would support each other in hard times in their lives.

Meanwhile, Andy and I would spend quite a bit of time together at my place. He would eventually be my dog, and my dog alone. My plan to make him love me worked after the time three years before when I hurt his eye.

Horses

Fire Fighters Memorial

The Raleigh Police Department has a Mounted Patrol Division. I’d often see the mounted patrol going around the downtown area. I worried about what would happen if they ever crossed paths with the Babies. I feared the Babies would spook the horses by growling or barking at them. I also worried that they might trample over me and the Babies.


The first time Andy saw a horse, he stuck his hair up along his back. Abby wasn’t fazed. The horses were a block or two away. Andy could see them. He let out a low growl but he didn’t bark. The horses didn’t come close to us, so nothing else happened.

The second time we came across horses, we had a closer encounter. A horse was in the park where we normally take our daily walk. Fortunately, the horse was 20 yards off the circular sidewalk we went around. The moment of truth came when we approached that 20 yard mark. About that time, Andy first saw the horses. He paused, glanced and then kept walking. He didn’t growl, stick his hair up or bark. Maybe when the horses were further away, he thought they were dogs, and Andy did not like other dogs. Since this was another species, Andy was not as alert or concerned. Abby didn’t pay the horse much attention either.

The cop seemed a little tense. He zeroed in on the Babies starring at them the whole time. His horse started to make a few snorts. Luckily, the cop held the horse steady and we passed by without an incident.

An Apology

I apologize to the woman, who opened a balcony door to a condo she didn’t own or rent, and snapped orders to me on that cold late winter morning over six years ago. (I guess the nights that you occasionally spent with your boyfriend at a building I partly owned authorized you to give orders to condo owners in that building.) I’m sorry Abby had a hard time that morning getting outside because her arthritis caused her so much pain during that morning that her legs were trembling. I wished she were able to go across the street and use the bathroom in her usual spot, but on that miserable morning, she could barely make it to the strip of grass in front of the building. I shouldn’t have responded to you that Abby “Really had to go” when you told me not to let my dog use the bathroom there. You countered with a cold and compassion-less expression: “Go out earlier and go across the street”, and I should not have answered back but instead “hopped-to” when you barked out your command.


I’m sorry Abby was going down-hill and entering old age. She was 9 at the time. I wished she didn’t have to take pain pills, Deramaxx, but the pain was overbearing for her on some days. I knew her time living at my condo was coming to an end. I apologize for having a hard time letting Abby go knowing she was getting old and would not be living with me much longer.