Sweetness experiment, volume 1 issue 1

OK...the first step in my "Sweetness" thing.

OH...look at this cutie patootie li'l doggie! I want to hug it and hug it, but I'd probably break it because it looks like it's made of really fragile stuff.

The dog in question is an Italian greyhound. It also looks like a smaller version of the dog my family had for a long time, named Willie.

Willie was a happy chapter in our lives. She was a very loving dog, full of spirit and just a great dog altogether.

My family had Willie from 1988 to 2003, which is a good long life for a country dog.

We always had dogs around...that's just what happens when you live in the country. Dogs come to you, or you come to the dogs (or go to the dogs...some might think I've gone to the dogs, but ANYWAY...).

After my sister's Doberman pincher died, Dad tried to put a moratorium on dogs. We had two other dogs (my pit-bull mix and our black lab/golden retriever mix) so for all intents and purposes we didn't really NEED another dog.

That doesn't mean anything, just so you know.

I was actually the one that picked up Willie in the first place. My sis was feeling kind of low since her dog died, and I felt like I should do something to cheer her up. I started scouring the want-ads for give away puppies, and found some at a local vet's office. I think I took another cousin with me, but I don't remember off hand. But I do remember the first time I saw Willie.

She was so cute. "Blond" hair, little round puppy tummy, just as cute as can be. I couldn't resist - the next thing I knew, I had her in a box, and was driving home with her. In my mind, I felt like Dad and Mom would fall in love with her as soon as they saw her. How could they NOT? As I said, she was SO cute!

Once I came home and presented the dog to Ruthi, she was very happy. They bonded right away. Then, Grandma and Grandpa D. came over (they lived right next door) and wanted to know what was going on with us. They fell in love with the dog too. Ruth was into photography then, and took lots of pictures of Willie that day, and some of the best ones were of Grandpa holding that li'l pup. (BTW, I don't know how we came up with Willie's name...I'll have to ask Ruth and update this post when I find out.)

Ruthi and I were trying to concoct a story as to how the pup arrived here in the first place, because we knew Dad's feelings about another dog. We finally decided that our story should be the typical "stray dog" story. We knew that Dad had a soft spot in his heart for strays, and said that sometimes they made the best dogs because they "found you". Surprisingly, Grandma & Grandpa D. backed us up on our untruth for about four or five years.

(BTW, I finally confessed our "crime" to Dad one day. His response was simply that he figured we were lying, but he didn't have the heart to give her away.)

Willie was an interesting dog. One thing that always amazed me about her was how aware she was of her gender. She could pose and sit like the perfect little lady dog, with her front legs crossed and everything. If you fussed over her and said, "What a lady! What a pretty lady!" she would just revel in that.

Another thing that always impressed me (I'm not sure if that's the right word) was how careful she was of babies. I'm not sure if that was a female dog thing or what, but you could have a sock laying in the middle of the floor, and if you told her it was a "baby", and not to hurt the "baby", she wouldn't touch it.

We used the same logic with Willie for the housecats that we had (another thing Dad didn't like but somehow we had anyway). We would tell Willie that the cat was a "baby" and not to hurt the "baby". Of course, the cats knew our logic and would do everything they could to torment the dog, knowing that she'd get in big trouble if she retaliated against their feline wiles. Willie tolerated a lot (she had a high tolerance for cat torture), but a few outbreaks happened during her life. Willie would get in trouble, but was also forgiven.

As Willie grew and matured, there were many things I found beautiful about her. She had gorgeous fur - Mom and I would say she was a perfect "medieval tapestry dog", because of her coloring and whippet-like build. Willie could run like a whippet too...very fast. A lot of people asked if she was part greyhound, and we really didn't know. The vet wasn't quite sure. We just knew that we loved her.

She only knew one "trick". You'd think we could have taught her more than one, but one was all she had in her to learn. That trick was "Who's the baby?"

I was the only one who did it with her, and it embarrassed my mother no end (which was why I did it).

Basically, I held her so she looked like she was sitting upright (and she looked so ashamed whenever I did this, so that added to the fun). Then I'd say to Willie, "Who's the baby? Who's the baby?" Then, she'd lay her head against my chest and I'd reply, "Yes, Willie's the baby."

The one time I tried to enter her in a "stupid pet trick" contest, she blew it...I guess she just preferred to share her talent in private.

As I mentioned before, Willie had a surprisingly long life for a farm dog. There was a time when she was REALLY skinny, and we took her to the vet. I ran into one of my friend's uncles and he said, "That dog looks like it's gonna die. We've got puppies at our place if you want one." (Subtle salesmanship, huh?) But Willie made it through - we were never really sure what happened.

As Willie got older, she became less and less spry. She developed arthritis, fatty cysts, cataracts, deafness, etc. The last time I saw her, she still knew who I was, and romped and played in the yard as much as she could.

She finally just (for lack of a better phrase) "wore out". She made it longer than most any dog we ever had. She lived to see Ruthi's three kids grow to late childhood, and saw both Grandma and Grandpa D live to a ripe old age. She enjoyed many hugs, kisses, and romps in the yard. She spent many cold nights in the house with Mom and Dad. She explored the fields behind our house. She mooched food from the guy that lived across the road from us. She slept with me many a night, and Ruth too.

Ed H. related a paraphrased quote from Kinky Friedman to me once. It basically says that when you die and go to heaven, you are reunited with all the pets you ever had. So I guess if you look at it that way, Willie is in good hands, and maybe she was one of the first faces Daddy saw when he hit heaven.

I'd like to think so. That helps me believe in Heaven (and Big Ernie) a little bit more.

Sudiegirl