In 1996 Percy, a full bred beagle arrived at our home with sad, chocolate brown eyes and droopy ears that nearly tripped him. Our previous pets were fish and two cats but never a dog. Somehow having a dog made our family complete and my sister and I promised over and over to take care of him, feed him and play with him every day. Most of our friends had family dogs so we were excited.
Percy warmed up to us easily, always eager to play and run around and chase us in the backyard. We'd throw toys for him to fetch and sometimes he'd grab them and throw them in the air running back to us. Being a beagle, his hunting instincts were always on and he'd bark at anything that moved. My childhood is rich with not only memories of Percy, but what those memories mean.
Pet's nearly always make us laugh. Midwest winters are either mild or morbid-no inbetween! Some winters thick piles of snow would collect in our area letting kids off school for several days. When my sister and I were home we'd let Percy outside to adventure out in the white to do his business. Unfortunaly, sometimes the snow was bigger than him. The first time he was introduced to snow he sniffed and tried running but the snow haulted his usual quick speed. As my sister and I watched him from the kitchen window, we saw he'd resorted to frolicking like a deer, jumping up and down, up and down to move from one place to the next searching for the perfect spot to do his duty but instead having the time of his life. My sister and I ached from laughing so hard on the kitchen floor.
Percy had his issues. Peeing on the floor (much to my mom's horror while my sister and I became hysterical on the floor again) obedience, which for a stubborn beagle is about as easy as trying to write with no pen or pencil. Excessive barking and chewing socks which at first I found them hilarious but then frequently finding myself yelling, "NO!'' several times.
Though Percy was the family dog, the bond between him and myself was stronger. He loved my bed the most and many days cozied up with me. We walked (not often enough) and I found ways for him and me to entertain the family that we still talk about today. I didn't have void that needed to be filled or even a good reason to get a dog, but I talked to him like a friend and loved him like a family member.
Several years later in 2004 my sister went off to college and I met my future husband spending less and less time at home. Later that year he proposed and began preparing for our wedding in 2006. On May 11, 2006 after several doctors visits and no conclusive results about his health, we put our family dog to sleep. It was three weeks before my wedding.
For nearly two months prior to his death, Percy's health was declining rapidly. He quit eating and was consitantly lethargic. He lost intrest in his toys and only wanted to lay around. There was no apparent medical reason for his behavior. I was convinced he had some bug and would get better but that never happened. With me marrying and moving and my sister at college, as cheesy as it sounds, I almost believe he died of a broken heart.
As difficult and real as his death was, for me it also symbolized the death of my childhood. I knew I was moving on, marrying and on the road to figuring out how to be a wife. Somehow his death finalized those thoughts. A part of me felt I couldn't leave him, that he'd be happier if my husband and I moved in with parents. But that's not how it works. We must move on, but we never have to forget. Percy's presence over those ten years not only gave me a fulfilling childhood, but inspired me to do the same for my future children. To make happy memories, to laugh and talk and play in the snow. To learn what's right and wrong. And now that I am a mom, peeing on the floor really isn't that funny.