No One Asked Me But... (August 2, 2023)

Jul 27, 2023

Editor’s Note: The item in this column was first published in The Progress on June 10, 2009.

By DR. LARRY MOSES

No one asked me but… Last week you will remember I started my bid for syndication. I was inspired by the movie “Marley and Me.” The movie was about a columnist and his life with the world’s worst dog. His columns about this dog were instrumental in the advancement of his career. I am not sure why you should care but I promised to write about my dogs this week, and a promise is a promise.

I have no romantic stories of a boy and his dog as I grew up. A dog was just something that was always in the house. At best, I peacefully co-existed with the family dogs. There was no Lassie rescuing Timmy from the well experience.

I had a wonderful dog-free life from the time I left home at eighteen until I was married and living in Santa Ana, California. I was stationed at El Toro Marine Air Station and my wife was working as a registered nurse at the Santa Ana General Hospital in the pediatric ward.

But my life was about to change. Jean came home from work with a proposal that we acquire a dog. A young patient died of cancer. The parent’s could not stand the thought of having the boy’s dog in the home to remind them of their loss. That is how we came into the life of Mimi Bon Chance, a miniature poodle we quickly came to call Bon Bon. This also set the pattern for the dogs in our lives. They, for the most part, were animals looking for a home.

Bon Bon, while deeply loved by my wife, was a psycho. When we picked the dog up, we were told the dog was afraid of men, ate only scrambled eggs and would not walk on a leash. She never got over her fear of men but she did learn to eat dog food and walk on a leash.

I was never real fond of walking her, however. Here I was in the Marine Corps, my fellow Marines walked Dobermans and German Shepherds and I had a miniature poodle.

Bon Bon made it through college and my first year of teaching, though I am not sure why. She made Marley look like a saint. The dog would eat our mail that was put through the mail slot in our door.

When my wife left for work in her nurses uniform all was well, but if the dog thought we had left her unnecessarily, she would mess in the house. When traveling, if left in the car, she would make a mess. When she was upset at me, as she often was, she would sit across the room and glare.

When we moved to an apartment in Las Vegas, from Idaho Falls, it was necessary to decide whether to put our son up for adoption or find Bon Bon a new home. In a very close vote, it was decided the dog would have to go.

After a year of apartment dwelling, and being dog free, we purchased a house in Las Vegas. After settling in, it seemed like a great time to get a dog for our boy. We tried to make the trade but no one would take the kid. So we soon realized if we were to have a dog, we would also be stuck with the child.

A friend had a miniature poodle that had puppies and was looking for a home for the last one. It was a black dog of diminutive size and a Napoleonic complex. It was supposed to be a pure bred poodle, but it looked like a cross between a wire brush and a mad scientist.

Once again we got a psychopath. But this dog was also a sociopath with the temperament of an agitated rattle snake. This dog bit everyone and everything within range. The only thing that saved the world was that the dog was all of about six pounds. I truly believe this dog bit rocks when nothing else was available. I am not sure how we got rid of this terrorist but the relationship lasted only about six months.

Our next dog was also a poodle, we had such success with the breed, why change now? A chocolate miniature poodle we named Charlie Brown, but we were on a first name basis. We never told him he was a poodle and therefore he never acted like one. Charlie pretty well grew up with the two older boys. Charlie lived well past the age of fifteen.

Charlie was replaced by a chocolate cocker spaniel we named Echo. Echo was a good dog who would eat all foods and loved everybody. We have been told chocolate is bad for dogs Echo did not know this and ate a whole pound of Mrs. See’s. It was delivered while we were gone. Echo suffered no ill effects whatsoever.

About half way through Echoes tenure she was joined by Kitty, a white peek-a-poo given to us by my sister-in-law. The highlight of Kitty’s life was when we had the great idea of dying her green with food coloring for the pep assembly to represent the rival school’s bulldog. It was a great hit but the food color did not wash out and we had a dog with green highlights for nearly six months.

With the demise of these dogs, Kitty first and Echo shortly thereafter, we were in the market for a new dog. An ad in the Moapa Valley Progress lead us to the best dog we ever had. We showed up expecting to see puppies but the party was giving away one of his two black Labradors.

We were given our choice. I told him we were just looking. He released the two dogs. The young male took off around the yard like a shot. Jumped in the horse trough and splashed around. The older dog, a seven year old female, came over and sat down beside me and looked up with great brown eyes. It was love at first sight for both.

Music came home with us and settled right in. She lived with us for six years. She was the only dog I ever had that actually was trained and obeyed commands. When she was thirteen she contracted a cancer and eventually went blind and could not get around. We buried her under a large cottonwood tree in the side yard and pledge to never have another dog.

A year later we were given another black lab named Jessie and she resides with us now. She is at my feet as I write this column and while more like most of our dogs, she has worked hard to replace Music. She was a little over a year old when she came to live with us she is now seven and just now is no longer a puppy.

We do have another dog named Speedy a dachshund-chihuahua mix. This dog is a column unto himself. Speedy is a great little dog that has overcome great adversity in his life. There is really no time to deal with Speedy. Suffice it to say someday, maybe I will devote a full column to this little warrior.

Thought for the week… Labradors [are] lousy watchdogs. They usually bark when there is a stranger about, but it is an expression of unmitigated joy at the chance to meet somebody new, not a warning. ~Norman Strung

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