RIP, Reebok (4/5/92-6/19/09)

We got Reebok in May of 1992. We'd been married around 6 months and decided it was time. We found him listed in a newspaper ad and drove over to the woman's house, where we chose the smallest of the litter of "purebred dachshunds." We had no idea what to name him. As we drove home, I kept throwing names around: "Mozart?" (the movie "Beethoven" was popular at the time). I looked down at him in my lap and as I looked at the swoosh on my sneaker, I said, "Nike? No...Adidas?" I thought I was funny. I said, "Reebok?" and we both agreed that it totally fit him and that became his name. He was unique looking, with a long black "skunk stripe" down his back, but he had floppy dachshund ears and was cute as can be.

Several weeks later, there was a thunderstorm in Savannah and it was loud. Reebok's cute floppy ears suddenly popped straight up at the crack of thunder, and they stayed that way! A couple of my co-workers at Oldies 98.3, who'd had dachshunds, assured me that that was a normal thing to have happen to dachshund ears and he'd be fine. That is, until I brought him into the station to let them meet him. We were met with laughter and "Uhhh, no, sorry, those ears aren't going anywhere. I've never seen anything like that!" At the vet's office not long after, we ran into the breeder, who was stunned to see him and asked us to give him back. "No way!" I said. Instead, she gave us back our still uncashed check and he became our free dog. Near as we can tell, as his hair grew long and more Yorkie like, his mother had been a bit of a floozie and may have had a little side game going with a Yorkie in addition to the dachshund she'd been matched up with.

Reebok was a great friend and companion and like most young couples with a dog, became our "first child." He was happy with life, at least until "the intruders" came along. The first one in 1995, the second in 1998 and later, in 2007, a canine one. Still, he was a great member of our household for the past 17 years and making the decision to put him down was difficult, but watching him walking, blind, into walls all day long, knowing his quality of life was very low makes it clear that it was the right choice to make and it was time. No world record breaking 21 years for this guy, but he gave it a good run! He had a super breakfast this morning of many of his favorite foods: scrambled eggs, cheese, bacon and a tiny little cup of milk.

At the vet's office, the kennel ladies all came to say goodbye to him and then it was time. It was quick and he went peacefully. Still, we'll all miss him terribly. And it's going to be really weird getting used to saying, "I have one dog" again. I imagine he's off romping with all his friends from over the years by now and in a happy place.

Taking Friendship To the Next Level

My day started with the utmost in embarrassing situations. At 8:50, I was sitting in our school's little theater, strumming my guitar, as families came in to get ready for their first graders' performance, at which I was going to accompany them on two songs. As I was sitting there, I kept smelling something awful. "What IS that?" I mumbled and started looking around for the source. I looked down and noticed a piece of pine straw stuck to the bottom of my sandal. I had a sense for what the smell was then, but checked anyway and sure enough, I'd stepped in poop. I was thinking dog poop, but realized that I hadn't smelled it in the car, so it must have happened once at school, so it may have been goose poop.

Either way, there I was, minutes before a performance and not sure what to do. So I ran out to get outside quickly. At the same time, my son came barreling out of his Art classroom upset because he'd gotten ink on his shorts. "So?" I said in my most mature mom voice, "I have poo on my shoe!" As I got to the door, I heard him tell his class the exciting news.

I got some paper towel, tried to scrub it off, dunked it in a puddle outside for a minute, and then just left them sitting outside as I walked back in, barefoot. My friend was doing some work in the hall and I told her what had happened and she said she'd clean them. I told her that she really didn't need to do that.

I felt like the epitome of professionalism as I walked back into the theater with nothing on my feet. I even heard a younger sibling point out to her mom that "that lady had no shoes." Thankfully, the play was about the rain forest and taking care of our planet, so I was just being "earthy" and fit right in!

After the show had ended, I went back out to take care of my shoes, when my friend told me that my shoes were all clean and sitting right at the door to the theater. I was blown away. To me, that qualified as a really good friend thing to do. In my mind, I'm not sure I'd do that for another person, but my sister assured me that I would if I felt like that person was in a bind. Maybe, but it made me think of the old Seinfeld episode about new friendship with Keith Hernandez. "What? He asked you to help him move?? You just met the guy!" So thank you, Chris!

Oh, not sure if there's much more tear inducing than a bunch of first graders singing "What a Wonderful World," unless it's a bunch of first graders singing "What a Wonderful World" while they sign it. Great stuff!