Walt's Corner

17 years ago, the sweetest Cockapoo was bornt. We wouldn’t know about her until 2012, when we were looking for a small dog to be a sister to our OG (Original Girl), Dolly. El Paso had this store called The Saddle Blanket, though it has been long gone since then. The Humane Society or Animal Rescue League would hold adoption fairs at The Saddle Blanket from time to time. This would be the first time we met Abby. We wanted to adopt her but then at the last minute they said no, we couldn’t. They just realized she had already been adopted out.

A few weeks later as we were at the shelter, still looking, there she was again. Abby had been returned. The reason? Did not play well with children. Knowing Abby now the way we do, we know that was a damned lie! Abby was a sweetheart to everyone. Kids. Adults. It didn’t matter.

Even though we adopted Abby for Dolly, Dolly would never play with her. Not for lack of trying. Abby tried and tried to get Dolly to play-fight with her; chase her around. Dolly would have none of it. It wouldn’t be until Bailey entered the picture that Dolly entered the fight. And what amazing fights they were! Glorious battles fought out at Casa Basil Cigar and Whiskey Lounge. Almost every night there would be wrestle-mania-worthy fight for about 25 minutes.

Abby and Dolly would fight over moths. Not play fighting either. They both wanted the moth. On warm summer nights I’d bat a moth out of the air and it would go flying down to the ground. They’d both pounce it. Same with crickets. They loved trying to catch crickets.

Abby was also a hugger. You couldn’t hold her like a normal dog. She would force her way to where her belly was against your chest and she would wrap her paws around your neck – both sides – and hug you. Every time she would encounter a new vet or groomer, they would all say the same thing, “Oh my! She’s a hugger!”

Abby’s fur was as velvety-smooth as the Velveteen Rabbit. Abby’s heart was made of gold. She would see the turtle struggling with trying to crawl over the landscaping bricks to get into the shrubbery bed, and she would run over to nudge the turtle right over into the bed.

Over the last year her endurance rapidly diminished. The duration and lengths of her walks declined. She’s the only dog that has hiked Dog Canyon Trail with us. Her hips were sore afterwards. She went legally blind, lost most of her hearing, and arthritis claimed her joints. The last few days she really went downhill. Wouldn’t (couldn’t?) eat. I even tried to give her some ribeye last night. No dice. She smelled it and turned her head. She was about to starve to death. It was time to make that decision.

Eating. That was probably the biggest difference between when Dolly went versus Abby. Dolly ate up to the last minute! We even got her a cheeseburger and nuggets on the way to the vet. I even brought along a piece of chocolate. That forbidden fruit for dogs. Hey, she’s gonna be dead by night’s end. Let her enjoy some fuckin’ chocolate. But once that ball started rolling, I forgot all about the chocolate. So I ate it myself afterwards. Not Abby. She hadn’t eaten in 3 days and still wouldn’t eat steak.

Abby’s final camping trip with us was to Three Rivers Campground in the Lincoln National Forest. She seemed to have so much energy there. She even walked through the river. She loved water – rivers and lakes. Loved swimming. In her blindness, when we would pick her up and just hold her over the floor, she’d do the doggy paddle. Just in case we were going to throw her in a lake, I guess.

You were the sweetest girl, Abby. You brought many smiles to us and complete strangers. We’ll miss you.