One Christmas I opened up a present to find a dog bone. I sat back to ponder what that was about and my parents had to prod me to guess. And, of course, it meant I was going to get a dog! Over the next few days we visited several pet places, looking for a beagle, and then we found these two beagle mixes. One was a bit crazier than the other, so we decided to get the calmer one.
On the drive home, I remember she just shivered. Her whole life, in fact, whenever she was nervous or scared, she shivered. So much so that her teeth would shatter. July Fourth was her least favorite day of the year!
When she wasn't scared, though, she was just so playful. Bouncy, as a matter of fact. So while we were brainstorming names, when my sister suggested Pogo, it was perfect. My puppy Pogo.
Oh how Pogo got into everything. She ripped up so much stuff. She even ate my sister's hear aids once, which was pretty terrible. The garbage can had to always be hidden for Pogo's whole life- if you left it out when you left the house, feast time! I couldn't even begin to guess how many diapers she's consumed. The grossest of gross.
But Pogo was a gooooood cuddler. She liked to just come up next to you and lean. She wasn't a big licker but every now and then she'd give you just a little tongue swipe on your fingers or feet that tickled so perfectly. If you involved food, though, there was much licking. And devouring. She sure loved people food. Except grapes. Peanut butter might have been her favorite.
When she was a puppy, she would curl up right on your shoulder and it was my favorite thing. Until she'd pass gas in my face. Yes, there was some unpleasantness to deal with having a dog. I spent most of her first winter waking up with her in the night and getting her to either squat on newspapered floor or get her to go out in the snow. It was good parent prep.
Pogo was a wonderful friend in my teenage years. Teenagers have feelings, right, and it was so nice to have something sweet and cuddly to snuggle. I had to leave Pogo behind when I went away for college and grad school. But I got her back when we went to Sean's medical school in Houston. Thankful, Sean was a dog guy and accepted Pogo as his own. Soon after, we had our twins and life was much different for Pogo. One of the worst things was that we had moved right before we had the babies and that yard had fleas, which Pogo got, of course. So we had to keep Pogo away from the infants and give her a million baths and it was just hard for her. She had already been moving a little bit more slowly and after all this, she really became and "old dog." Not much interested in playing, more arthritis, lots of sleeping, etc.
My kids never knew the playful Pogo. The Pogo that would take off at a tear when she spotted a squirrel, the Pogo that would tug and tug and tug on her rope ball. She was patient enough with them, though, and they enjoyed petting her and giving walks. All the boys' first words were "dog" and Wren said "pogo" as her third word or something. They always enjoyed her Nose-Flipping-the-Treat trick. And she still would howl whenever I played the flute or we howled too, that was a favorite.
Pogo had been deteriorating slowly over the last several years. I'd only buy small bags of dog food, unsure if we'd need the whole thing. In the last couple weeks of her life, she'd eat less and move sparingly. On her last full day, she wouldn't eat anything, even when I smothered it with ketchup. She couldn't stand for more than a second. I knew her time was short and we brought her dog bed up next to ours. I stayed up late that night stroking her and awoke that morning to find her body still. I was going to have her cremated but Sean's dad offered to bury her in their backyard, which we did that evening and gave her a little gravemarker. We're so grateful we can go visit the spot. And we are so grateful for the wonderful memories her sweet little life has given us. Thank you, Pogo, for the love.
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