A Canine Last Goodbye

I remember a poem that Jimmy Stewart wrote (yes, THAT Jimmy Stewart), and once read on ‘The Late Show with Johnny Carson’. It’s called “Bo” (or “Beau”), and it seems fitting to show here.Here’s my story:
When I was just a boy, our house was in the woods. It was a nice home and we had nice things, but one of the things I remember the most is my dog, Lizzie. Lizzie was a German short-hair. I don’t really remember her as a puppy, we got her when she was full grown. She was still a puppy, but in a grown-dog body. We adopted her from a neighbor who had taken Lizzie’s brother and her when they were pups.
She was dark brown and had a stub tail, as all German short-hairs do. She was a good dog, always good with us kids. Never mean, and rarely very brave. Whenever someone would come up our driveway, she would scamper to the back yard and bark from there until we coaxed her back to the front. Sort of a passive-aggressive doggy personality.
One day, we heard some whining coming from our back deck. When we went to check out the problem, we saw Lizzie sitting at the back door. Her snout was full of porcupine barbs. Some were barely sticking in, and others were fully through her snout. I am sure they ALL hurt. We were all worried about our dog, but she didn’t seem afraid of us. Our uncle told us that he could probably remove them, but if Lizzie was going to “freak out”, we were going to have to take him to the vet (over an hour away). Well, my uncle got some pliers and began the delicate procedure. Lizzie didn’t yelp, or pull away once. She just laid down and let us pull the barbs out, one by one. She was obviously in pain, but she trusted us to take care of her, even if it hurt her to do so.
She was sore for a couple of days afterwards, but no worse for the wear. I think we were all amazed by her, and we learned to love her just a little more.
She and I would play in the woods for hours with my sisters. She was always nearby, and came whenever we called. She would endure the pulling of the ears, and the tackles and all of the other things that kids put dogs through. She was a good dog, a good good dog. She was part of our family.
Fast forward 10 years, and I am away at college. Lizzie has grown old and blind. With a fully grey beard, she is severely arthritic and seems to get scared easily. She is becoming dangerous. When anyone new comes to the house, she becomes very aggressive and even lunges at a couple of delivery men.
She was in pain then. We had moved, and she no longer had the freedom she once enjoyed. She could no longer go on her runs; even if she wanted to, she didn’t have it in her anymore. Lizzie started getting seizures too. She would just plop over and start shaking uncontrollably. It was sad. My poor dog was slowly dying, I was told.
One day after classes, I got a call from my mom. She told me that dad had taken Lizzie to the humane society to be euthanized. I was expecting it. I knew that it was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was probably easier that I wasn’t home. I felt bad for my dad though. It was his dog too. I was sad, but it didn’t really crush me. I was in college after all, and there are plenty of other things to occupy one’s mind while in college.
Quickly, I forgot about my late friend, or so I had thought.
About a week after the call from my mom, I awoke from a dream, with a tear soaked pillow. Lizzie was still young and happy. With perfect eyesight and no arthritis, we played and ran, and rolled around on the ground like we did when I was a boy. It was as if she was saying goodbye. One last game, one last romp, one last lick on the face. I get a little choked up just thinking about it now. Thanks again old girl.

Holy Graveyard, Batman!

Ahhhhhhh….
Graveyard is finally here. I must say that so far (2 days) it is wonderful. I don’t mind the other shifts, but I always look forward to graveyard. My wife doesn’t, but I certainly do.
I have sleeping problems. Graveyard is nice because I am able to sleep without a ton of drugs to help. I took Ambien while I was on swing shift, but that stopped working after about a week. Prior to that, I was taking something else, and that stopped working as well. It’s weird, because I found myself SO tired, but completely unable to actually sleep. I could lay in bed for hours and hours, not moving, not tossing or turning, just awake. You can imagine, it was maddening. Some of my co-workers were incredulous at my predicament, because they were able to go home and be asleep 15 minutes after they walked through their front door. You always take for granted the things that come easy.
Compared to other shifts, graveyard is heaven. We have to do extra rounds throughout the night to check on the inmates, but even that isn’t a big deal. All inmate issues are dealt with on other shifts, so unless someone is going to get into a fight or is deathly ill, it waits until morning. That isn’t to say that we aren’t asked to do things, it’s just that we don’t do it.

Graveyard is sleep time for the inmates, and if it wasn’t important enough to get taken care of during the day prior, then it can usually wait another shift.

We do actually do some work though. We release inmates if their time is up. We book in an exceptional amount of people during graveyard. If an inmate has charges in another county, we get them ready for transport, and we get all of the transports ready for prison. We serve breakfast in the morning. But I do have to admit, even with the work we do on graveyard, it is exponentially less than the other shifts.
Of course, just like anything else, not everyone likes what I like. (stupid people) There are people who HATE this shift. Normally this is directly tied to sleep; I can understand that frustration. My wife hates graveyard too. She feels like she is able to see me less, but she forgets about swing shift, where I would stay up until 3, or 4, or 5, and then sleep until 1pm. Then I would leave for work at 4. Now, at least I only sleep until 3. I take a couple of hours to “warm up to the world”, but she still gets more hours per day with me than she did on swings.
Oh, well. She only has to put up with it for three months and then I will go to day shift. Day shift, HUMBUG! Every one’s awake, court, radio traffic up the wazoo, attorney visits, and all of the other lovely things that come with day shift. Up at 7, home by 4, sleep by 2 (hopefully). The three month countdown begins now.
The only thing that I have found that I don’t like, is that I post less. On swing shift, I would post when I was awake at night. It was easier to post when there was nothing else to do, so I found myself posting more regularly. Now, I am afraid that my writing will suffer due to my new found ability to sleep. I guess, we will just have to wait and see.

Taking a Break

So, I am gonna take a break… but a short one. I really do love writing this blog, as it is a cheap outlet for my rants and ramblings. I think, though, that I need to step back and take a look at my content. (what do you think?)
I guess you will just have to check back and see what happens in the next couple of weeks.
If you need any more clarification than that, you can e-mail me… if you already know my address. If not, you will have to wait and see. (I know that the anticipation is killing you.)

Puppy Love

After I returned from Vegas, I got a letter from my father. It was a very nice letter, and something I didn’t expect. It is always nice to hear how much my dad loves me. He is a good man, and his approval is nice to hear. The other thing he sent was a check for a few bucks. He said that it was for Starbucks, but I decided to use it to finally break down and get us something my wife has been asking for since we got married.
I got a puppy. I went to the doctor on Tuesday for my right elbow pain (I found out I have “Tennis Elbow”), and sleep problems. Since I moved to swing shift, I have been unable to get more than a few hours of sleep each night. This is maddening, since I also am the child care for us when Jamie is as school during the week. Sleepy dad syndrome does not make child care that easy.
Anyway, after my appointment with the Doc, I went to the Humane Society to see what it might take/cost to adopt a puppy. Twenty minutes later and a call to Jamie, I was on my way home with our newest member of the Treichel family, Rocky.

He is a Boxer mix, but doesn’t have the tell-tale boxer face. He is pretty mellow so far, but I imagine that this will change in the next couple of weeks.
He likes to sit anywhere you are, and will whine for you to pick him up so he can nap on your lap. He is a light brown with black highlights, and has some white on his neck and chest.
I have been very resistant to getting a dog for a long time, and I really don’t know what prompted me to change my mind, but I am glad I did… at least for now. I know that pets are work, and I know that cleaning up poop and pee may change my mind.
I also know that my kids absolutely love “Rocky”, and if we take care of him, will provide companionship and entertainment for years to come.
If we could just get him house-broken sooner rather than later….