REHOME by Mike Richwine
I love dogs, and dogs love me. I have often said that dogs, children, and mothers like me at first meeting …
Growing up with dogs my earliest remembrances are of our dog Gretchen who was a long-haired red dachshund. Auburn hair down from her short legs and long torso made he look like a waddling mop. Gretchen was a happy mild-mannered part of our family who introduced me to the wonders of birthing with three puppies when I was ten.
Back then – in the 50’s, you just opened the back screen door and watched he do her business, sniff around, and wandered back. You just left her out in the untended yard, and she would bark to be let back in. There were not the walking brigades, paid walkers, poop bags, or even walking shoes. She was like my uncle Mike who hung around, was always pleasant, and would even help me out on my morning paper route occasionally when the weather was bad.. She lived to an age of 14 and saw me off to college.
Upon graduation, I got married and joined the army 1967-68 – not an enjoyable time to be an army medic! Upon returning home from my active-duty adventure, I found my wife had bought a small Bichon Frise – aka cat dog. While Biche was an agreeable dog and soon became “my” dog and constant shadow, the darling white ball of fluff had persistent skin problems She scratched and itched her smelly way thru the days and the only thing that calmed her down was my lap. Moving her to hot humid Houston along with my job transfer with four children and the heat and humidity proved to be this tiny, since shaved, lovable mess of a dog’s undoing.
We decided that upgrading to larger more sturdy dogs was the way to go. This started a progression of Labrador Retrievers. What lovely companions. Growing up with a family of four children at that time, learning how to hunt (dog went to retrieval camp), absolutely loving our pool and Texas Lakehouse. These larger dogs do not have the lifespan of the smaller dogs, so we went thru a progression of Labs over the next 30 years.
My favorite was Toby. A well-bred Lab (one of a litter of six from a Chicago Northshore mansion on the lake) she was the perfect dog. She was overweight but absolutely loved the water. Upon getting near to our shared Lakehouse in the beautiful pot-lake in lower Michigan, the dog would become overwhelmed by excitement. If you have ever seen a dog overwhelmed, it is like seeing a candle lit. She would shake, wiggle, screech (softly) with every inch of her being. The nose sniffed, eyes watered, ears perked up and all ninety pounds of her would wiggle and wag until someone would open the door to the car, when she would bolt to the end of the pier and do a full bellyflop into the lake! This long-haired black dog would float with her fur acting as a life preserver and her hair splaying out around her like the sheen from a drop of oil in the water. This dog would just float, barely paddling feet underwater with webbed feet like a duck for hours. Birch Lake (there are over 20 Birch Lakes in Michigan) is a pristine 140-acre lake that is 90 feet deep in a near round configuration. More than once, we would have people let us know that they laughingly saw our dog in the middle of this mile-round lake just paddling along with this wonderful smile on her face and not a care in the world. Her biggest problem was getting out of the water and into a boat or up the ladder to the dock. Pulling herself up a ladder or me trying to drag a soaking wet 90-pound dog was such a challenge that we had to build a “Toby” ramp to get her in the boat and onto the pier.
As I aged (not necessarily gracefully) we had a succession of Labs or would be “Tobys,” until our last passed away after being run over by a teenager pulling into his driveway while walking Toby on the sidewalk in front of their house. I swore off dogs as I aged, we downsized our house. Covid struck, my spouse thinking I was overweight and needed a companion – decided to surprise me with an adopted Labrador! She charged forward with an adoption from a no-kill shelter nearby. The photos of the dog looked like one of those orphan circulars with him looking so sad, how could I pass up this puppy? The story was that this adorable puppy had been rescued in flood ravaged Texas in 2021 and brought up to Chicago to find a home.
Upon arrival to pick up our new puppy, we encountered a hound!
This 60-pound muscular juvenile was cute but had a wild eye. I asked where the cute Labrador puppy was? We were assured this was the Lab that they rescued along with his brother from Hurricane Harvey in Texas and was indeed the puppy we were promised. “Just take him home and you can rehome if he doesn’t work out” the shelter said. Being the softie that I am and having the background of rearing seven children and eight dogs over 50 years, I did not believe I would have any problems training Cooper. That was the first problem – naming him, then adopting! He was a ball of energy! It was my chore and challenge –to walk him, feed him, train him in my retirement years. My spouse loves the idea of a dog, but not necessarily the dog… For the next eighteen months I walked him come rain, snow, or sunshine. I walked him the day I came home from my back surgery, the day I came home from my knee replacement, and later neck fusion, thrice a day was our practice.
From the start Cooper and I had a battle of wills. It soon came to become my mission in life to tame this shrew! While he was lovable, good natured, loved his walks and open runs in the several leash free parks, walks with him were a constant tug-a-war with me winning 50% of the time. A series of dog schools, military type of dog training camps, and one-on-one training sessions soon followed with some modicum of success., However, once he saw the front of our home, it was all I could do to not have him pulling my arm out of my socket, he would turn, grab the leash in large very un-Labrador mouth, and the game was on! A fortune was spent on different collars, leashes that were routinely chewed thru. Metal leashes were ruled out for fear of chipped teeth.. Dog walkers were hired who guaranteed me that they could handle him. Several quit in tears because of his last ten minutes of behavior once he saw the proverbial barn.
Upon my leaving town for a short visit I got the call from the dog care and my wife that Cooper had become ill. After my wife had taken him to the animal hospital nearby and $5,500 in medical bills I got home to a poor sick dog with Addison’s disease. This disease showed itself in lethargy and uncontrolled bowel discharges only controlled by every two-week injection at one hundred dollars apiece!
Later, my grandson informed me that the dog had sprayed our entire bathroom – walls and everything. Not just because it was winter in Chicago, the dog was on thin ice
The next day on our walk around the neighborhood, he was again his feisty self when suddenly, he lunged. I looked, and he had found the treasure of all treasures – a dead bird! I at once grabbed the butt end of the bird while he had the front end determinedly in his jaws. I was just as determined he would not consume this diseased-dead bird. The battle of the century ensued between 75-year-old man and his 75-pound hound! One hand was in his jaws trying pry this unhealthy snack loose, the other with the leash trying to get his attention and let the bird drop!
Suddenly, I hear a human screech! I look up, hand still around my side of the bird, and I see a white BMW with a pink vanity plate – PEACHES– with a forty plus year-old blond-haired woman yelling at me – “quit beating that dog- are you the dog’s owner?- I’m posting videos” as she has her phone out taking my picture “I’m videotaping you and sending it to the police”– all the time screaming at me to let the dog go!
Here I am in an epic struggle between two foes –
The bird is torn apart, Cooper consumes his part while I, forlorn, am left holding the remaining half. The situation leaves me feeling disheartened, not only due to the actions of the dog, but also because of the involvement of a particularly assertive bystander. I wonder if her real name was Karen, not Peaches. Defeated I return home knowing that this dog and I have had our last match of wills.
A week later I received a text from the shelter that they have found a replacement family with a yard for Cooper, asking for permission to share his medical records. Even dogs now have HIPPA!
Word count 1572
Mike Richwine
