Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Why do I do this?

Tonight I was going through some old posts and clearing out all the drafts that never saw the light of day. There was one particular topic with numerous drafts that I was always unable to complete. Some attempts were just incoherent ramblings and others were just a sentence or two that were automatically saved. Tonight, it gets finished.

The internet is a strange place flooded with useless information and topless women. And yes, it is also flooded with sites you can visit to catch up on the latest escapades of people's pets. This is one of those places, but I'm pretty sure you already knew that. That leads me to the questions I've been asking myself for a little while...why do I do this? What's the point? Who cares?

Rewind 20 years. There was a kid out in West Texas with a brand new driver's license who wanted a dog. He'd been without one for a long, long time. Moves, a growing family and daily life made it impractical for him to have a dog since his beloved Daisy. This kid we are talking about used his new found freedom and his totally rad first car (ignore all the rust) to change his dog situation. He did.

The call came. A gentleman called and spoke to the kid's dad at length about a very special offer he was making. They had a litter of "worthless" puppies ready to leave his house and go live somewhere else. Guess who was listening to the entire conversation from the top of the stairs?

The next day, there was an announcement that the family would be getting a dog. Let's not beat around the bush here. That kid was me and I was being allowed to get one of the greatest gifts my parents had ever given me...a Dalmatian/Lasso Apso mix that was the ugliest, longest and shortest dog with weird looking legs you've ever seen, but he was all mine and his name was Deuce.

Deuce was truly one of a kind. He'd lay at the back door all day long while I was at school and his internal clock would tell him when it was time to move to the driveway to wait for my return. On warm Saturday mornings, he'd follow me around in circles while I cut the grass...until he got tired. Then Deuce would find a spot in the grass and park. Eventually, I'd have to stop mowing and get off the mower to move him from his comfortable spot so I could cut the long grass that was his temporary oasis.

That damned dog witnessed my first kiss. He witnessed me proclaim that my first beer was gross and that I'd never have another one again. Deuce was one of those dogs that was always around for the special moments and that is why his memory sticks with me to this day.

On Halloween, while in my senior year of high school, I was walking down the fairway of last hole of one of the challenge matches we had on the golf team when I saw my dad walk onto apron of the green as we walked up to finish the round. Seeing him there to watch me finish an everyday match was very unordinary. I just knew I was in trouble for something big, but didn't know for what.

It was a Wednesday, and I was not in trouble. We had a conversation and he told me that he came to see the finish before I had a chance to head home and couldn't find Deuce waiting for me in the driveway. Deuce was gone.

Today, there is a treasure I keep on my bookshelf. It is a copy of Where the Red Fern Grows with a note from my mom in the front. I still read the note often and still miss the dog with the funny looking legs.

Internet, meet Deuce. Deuce, meet the internet...

So, back to the question about why I do this. Thankfully it became clear this evening. I do this as a constant reminder of what is really important.

Thanks, Deuce. Molly and Tess would have loved to have known you.

1 comment:

Duly Inspired said...

I usually have so many, but tonight? No words.

Thank your parents, though. They seem to me to be wonderful people.

Hugs, Alison (and, as she paws my leg, Cheyenne)