There is no more faithful a friend than the canine variety. Sparky was a gift from my dad when I was a freshman in college. Even though he lived with my dad while I was in school, he was definitely my dog. Dad used to put me on the speaker phone when I called home just so Sparky could hear my voice. The crazy dog would race around the house, barking with his tail wagging in search of me. When I'd leave my dad's house after a weekend at home, I'd look in my rearview mirror and see Sparky sadly watching me depart from the picture window. I asked a lot of him when I took him from the farm and moved him to Virginia with me, but Dad and I both knew he'd be a very sad dog if I left him for good.
Terriers are very smart, and Sparky knew that my love was going to have to be shared with John. Luckily, he overcame his jealousy and learned to love my husband. He kept me company through many Navy deployments, including one in which we weathered a hurricane together. Life as a military wife would have been much lonelier and scarier without my faithful dog.
After John finished with the Navy, Sparky saw me through other life events. Losing my dad would have been much harder if I hadn't been able to cuddle my dog as I grieved. It isn't as though Sparky only saw me through sad situations. He was here to welcome both of my boys.
The last year, though he was failing in health, was a good one for Sparky. He got to go back to his roots, back to the country. He loved every minute of it. For awhile, he was like a young dog again. He sprinted through the pasture chasing tennis balls. He barked at anything that moved with zeal. He lived.
So, how do you say goodbye to a dog that was your companion for the last fourteen years? You stroke his head. You tell him what a good boy he is. You tell him how much you love him. And, you let him go.
I'll leave you with something that I didn't ask John if I could share. Hopefully he won't mind. It's a paper that he had to write for one of his composition classes. I love it.
Learning to Love a Dog
For most of my life it would have been difficult to describe myself as someone who was fond of dogs. I regarded them as needy creatures that were only capable of making a mess and then consuming it without regard for their personal health. I never had a traumatic childhood experience that influenced my feelings about them; I just had not met the right one.
My childhood pets were mainly cats with the occasional hamster, goldfish, and turtle thrown in for good measure. Cats do a fine job of making their owners feel that they are insignificant to their cat’s life. A cat will seem indifferent to your presence most of the time but will surprise you with the occasional jump onto your lap. Our cats were always allowed to go outside, and this afforded me the opportunity to witness birth and feel loss when they died.
As a child I was never afraid of dogs and would always play with them while visiting my parents’ friends that owned dogs. I think that most of the dogs I met as a child were retrievers and Labradors that were generally good with children. The bad ones were probably locked up in a garage or kept in the backyard during social gatherings. Several times I got to take care of dogs while their owners were away. I learned quickly that dogs were very dependent on humans. On top of feeding and walking them, I had to play with them. I enjoyed the several opportunities to take care of dogs, but I still never felt that a dog was necessary to my childhood happiness.
Years later, I indirectly chose to bring a dog into my life. I married a woman who belonged to a Jack Russell Terrier. She was very fond of this dog, and it was understood that I was going to become part of his life.
When I met Sparky he was a two-year-old Jack Russell Terrier. It was the Thanksgiving of 2000, and I was visiting Ellie and her family for the holiday. Sparky lived with Ellie’s father while she was away at school. He was a cute dog, and it was apparent that my wife was very attached to him. Ellie and I married in the summer of 2001, and that is when my life with a dog began.
The first bonding experience I had with Sparky would not easily be described as a good one. We were making the drive from Minnesota to Virginia to begin our new life as husband and wife. The weather was pleasant, and we decided to eat outside at a picnic area. This decision was made, in part, to enable Sparky to stretch his legs. I was sitting on the ground with my wife and she was holding Sparky on a leash. Without warning, Sparky relieved himself on my shirt. While this was shocking, I did not fully express my disapproval because I was interested in making the union work.
I will never know why Sparky chose to relieve himself on me. Part of me thought that this was an act of contempt, but I would like to think that it was just due to the stress of travel. My wife was only able to provide a grin when asked for her feelings on Sparky’s accident. It has not occurred since, and it is now easy for me to laugh about it.
Adjusting to life with Sparky was easy. He is a very well-behaved dog and loves to be around people. He is able to communicate his interest in whatever I am eating and I repeatedly fall prey to his manipulations. I am guilty of sneaking him dog treats and morsels of food which he seems to truly appreciate. Sparky always showed a great deal of excitement when I returned from work, and I soon made a habit of taking him for a walk in the evenings. Sparky was slowly becoming a friend. However, this new friendship was about to be tested.
Later that summer, I found a dog-friendly beach near our house and we decided to take him with us. It was a typically hot summer day, and the beach seemed like the best place to go. The three of us got in the car and made our way to the beach. Upon arrival, Ellie and I got out of the car and unloaded all of our beach gear. At some point I locked my keys in the car with Sparky. We were at a remote beach located on a military installation, and police help would be out of the question. I used my cell phone to find and contact a locksmith and tried my best to communicate the urgency of the situation. I did not get a good feeling from the dispatcher when she stated that it would be thirty minutes before anyone could arrive. In that heat, thirty minutes would have been too long. After several minutes of deliberation, I decided to break my rear-right window by throwing a rock through it. This course of action freed Sparky from certain doom. A few days later I paid to have the window replaced, and I vowed never to lock Sparky in the car again.
I remembered sharing my wife’s feeling of terror when I realized that Sparky was locked in the car. I can only recall how saving Sparky became the ultimate priority in my life, and nothing else mattered at that moment. I was always very meticulous about that car, but the material value of that car did not matter at that moment. I had to save my dog, and I learned that the window was replaceable and Sparky was not. He was a part of my life that I could not let go. I wished that the incident never happened, but it was a good opportunity to prove my loyalty to this dog. I am not sure if Sparky is capable of grasping what happened that day, but I would like to think that he knows that I chose to save him.
Nothing as dramatic as the event at the beach has occurred in the time since then. Sparky is a very well-behaved dog, and if he does get in trouble it is usually due to a mistake on my part. I began to take pride in the way that he behaved. Most people expect his breed to be a difficult due to their energy level, but I think that because Sparky gets a lot of attention and exercise he does not have to demand negative attention from us. Sparky and I continued to grow closer after the incident. Sparky loves to take walks, and I enjoy taking him. I began to feel that the walks were good for his welfare and that he needs them to be happy. I realized that Sparky was helpless without my wife and me. Pleasing Sparky is easy, and he does a good job of showing his appreciation with the frantic wagging of his short, docked tail. His eyes are very expressive, and he uses them to his advantage every chance he gets. The cats I grew up with never showed this kind of affection.
I am approaching five years with Sparky in my life, and I have learned a lot about dogs since our first incident together. I think that the difference between Sparky and other dogs is that I am his master, and I am responsible for his welfare. He realizes this, and I have become the object of his obedience and affection. I never would have learned this lesson from the neighbor’s dog or any other dog until he became mine.
Now that I am out of the navy, I have chosen to add another dog to our household. We have a sixteen-week-old -Airedale terrier named Winston. He requires a lot of walks, trips to the backyard in the middle of the night, and constant play. His puppy ways are a stark contrast to Sparky’s middle-aged lifestyle, but we love him for his goofiness and childlike behavior. Compared to Sparky, Winston needs help with everything, and I have to be there for him. I hope that he grows to become a dog very similar to Sparky and he loves me the same.
Before Sparky, I did not know that I would come to like dogs. Sparky was special in that regard, and I will continue to love him as a friend and companion. I will always enjoy walking him and will smile every time I wake up to find him dozing under the covers of my bed. I will never forget him.
