Dear Friends Long Gone

I'm publishing the following photo with the permission of my friend CL. It's a photo of his dog, Hobie. Hobie is a dachshund and is about a year old.


My friend e-mailed me this photo yesterday and upon seeing it, it immediately reminded me of the first dog my sister and I had. He was of the same breed and was of the same color. We named him Douglas after a dog my mother had when she was still in her teens.

My maternal grandfather was an avid dog lover. My mom said that as far back as she could remember, they always had dogs at home. After Douglas, my sister and I ended up having two other dogs. A German Shepherd came next whom we named Jackie, again named after one of the dogs my mom had back in the 1950s. The last one was Snoopy and not because he was a beagle like that popular comics character but because of his black and white color.

We loved the dogs we had very much. They were well fed and were always kept clean. We never tied or chained them. We always let them roam the yard freely for my sister and I couldn't stand hearing them cry during those rare moments when they had to be chained.

But as dog owners, we were not the sophisticated type. Except for the required anti-rabies shots that were administered by the municipality we lived in, they were not taken to any veterinarian for regular checkups. We fed them well and cared for them well but such loving care was given in the best way we knew how, which looking back now, probably would not have met the standards of a sophisticated pet lover.

To a dog, all three didn't live long. We lost Douglas after a year and two months. He ran out of the yard and onto the street one day while my sister and I were both in school. He was accidentally run over by a passenger bus that plied the streets of our subdivision. A neighbor saw his body on the street and was kind enough to bring him back to our mother. My sister and I were devastated once we got home to find that our dear pet was gone. It was the first time I realized that losing a dear pet was pretty much like a death in the family. My little sister ended up crying for days.

We had Jackie the longest at two years. She pretty much met the same fate as Douglas for she was run over by a school bus this time. Unfortunately, it was the school bus I was on. It ran over her moments after the bus had picked me up to take me to school. I didn't see it happen but I heard her cry as the bus drove away. I knew then that sad news would await me once I got home that afternoon. I wasn't wrong because she was indeed dead by the time I got home. Again, it was another heartbreak we had to endure for another pet we lost too damn soon.

As for Snoopy, we found him dead in our yard one afternoon. To this day, we don't know what caused his death. We suspect that he must have choked on something he tried to eat. Whatever that thing was, we do not know because we took great care of putting away things or liquids that our pets might try chewing on. His death was the last straw.

It's been many years since my sister and I last had a dog. I look back at those years with fondness but also with sadness. I envy people who enjoy many years of fun and love with their dogs. There are still days when I wish I had a dog, a buddy to accompany me whenever I go on my long walks. But memories of the pain of losing such a dear friend prevent me from taking on another one. Plus, at this point in my life, I don't think I have the time and energy to give the dog the proper amount of caring and loving it deserves. I haven't lost my fondness for them but then, I guess I will just have to be content admiring them from a distance.

Photo: CL (Dallas, Texas)