Thank You, My Son

If you know me, you also know about Apollo.

He’s been a part of my life since just a few days before I turned 21. Within a week he nearly scared me to death when he ran away from home for about 90 minutes. A year later he jumped out of my car window trying to chase after another dog. He destroyed my belongings, made me late for class or work countless times, and nearly got me evicted from my rental at college – all before he turned 2.

He IS my life.

Apollo journeyed with me across the country to North Carolina. Migrated to St. Louis and became a frequent flier on our plane trips back home for the holidays. Logged thousands of miles alongside me as we made our triumphant drive back to California. He’s sat and patiently waited for me to return from work in every place I’ve called home since college. The guy has been the best roommate ever (except when he’s stolen my food, but that’s the definition of a roommate).

He’s taught me a lot.

Being a doggy dad has been such a proud accomplishment in my life. He helped me to develop a well-honed parental sense – putting him ahead of everything and everyone, including myself. I’ve learned to think about the future while factoring in a dependent as it relates to everything: physically, mentally, and financially. The patience that I’ve gained throughout the decades of having him alongside me has been a reward that I will carry with me each and every single day.

We are inseparable.

Owning a pet is (usually) only a fraction of a human’s life. In contrast, to that pet, you are, and always will be the whole world to them. Apollo fully embodied this sentiment, and I’ll share a prime example. At home, I don’t close the bathroom door – ever. He’s conditioned me to grant him the privilege of being by my side no matter what personal business I’m conducting. My business is his business.

Oh the joys.

When he naps with me. When he learns a new command and makes me proud in front of guests. When we play hide-and-seek at home. When he swallows his dinner in a fraction of the time it took for me to make it. When we go on walks (not in the rain). When he sticks his head out the window of the passenger seat. When he runs like a puppy through a big field of grass. When he welcomes me home at the door after a day at work. When he steals my dirty socks. When he’s sleeping in a sunny spot.

My boy is strong.

Sure, he’s a healthy 20-ish pound hound – but besides his dashing good looks, shiny fur coat, great genetics without any back/spine issues, and having surrendered most of his teeth to the Tooth Fairy – my furry little man has a strong will to live. Thanksgiving of 2019 he gave me a scare that cancelled a trip to see my future wife. But he fought through his ailments and I made him promise me one thing that winter: he has to be around to welcome Kelly to our home and to be a family together. His age started catching up to him in 2020 but we both pushed hard to find new routines. A lot of sleepless nights, new food recipes, and visits to the vet… eventually we found a manageable day-to-day lifestyle. I could tell that each month, each week, sometimes each day – that he was getting tired. But he wasn’t giving up and I knew that I couldn’t either, so I put on a brave smile for his sake and spent just a bit more time with him every day. He was able to keep his promise this year as we became a happy family of 3.

It’s sad and it hurts so much because of how much happiness and love I’ve received.

I truly lost the ability to contain my tears when I watched him struggle to eat and convinced myself that while it was just a coincidence, the tears in his eyes told me that he was only eating to make me happy. I knew that I couldn’t be selfish, and that he’s done more in his life for me than I can ever ask for. I don’t have to worry about being alone. I couldn’t bear myself to make the appointment – I told my wife that “I can’t push the button to confirm the appointment.” But I owed Apollo comfort and peace and had to let him go. In his final days, my strong boy enjoyed getting to see his uncle William + Leo, his grandma (my mom), and his auntie Michelle. I treated him to his favorite foods and in return, he proudly dragged me around our neighborhood on our last walks as if say “nobody will know I’m over 17 years old!”

Around 12:15PM on November 5^th, 2021, we allowed Apollo to take his final nap.

My sleepy boy was already resting comfortably in his own bed when Dr. Smith from Rainbow Bridge Vet Services arrived. Myself and Kelly woke him up one last time to make him promise to return to us in the future as we held him close to our hearts. Even as he fell asleep with a big, relaxed, fulfilled smile I know for certain that he heard us and will fulfill that promise. We’ll meet him again, I know it.

Thank you.

For being my personal heater during cold winter days. For fulfilling my dream of being a dog-dad. For being patient with me when I went away for work. For comforting me and licking my tears when I had bad days. For tolerating the miles we’ve traveled together on planes or in cars. For keeping me company during COVID quarantine. For being such a well-behaved and smart dog. For making sure I won’t be alone. For loving me unconditionally. For being my best friend and my son.

 

 

That Was Me - Sorry

I don't know about you, but I find habits of my dog that resemble those of my own to be really funny. What makes it even funnier is the way that he reacts to my reaction.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist (or in this case, a doctor/veterinarian) to tell you that the canine anatomy is very different from that of homo sapiens. But there are obviously many overlapping characteristics to be shared, most likely all derived from both of our species falling under the mammal classification. Undoubtedly, we share similar physiology in the digestive systems and resulting bodily functions - yes, I'm talking about farts.

Flatulence is unpleasant... unless it came from yourself (those tend to be "acceptable"). Apparently my dog agrees. I've observed him give me a "was that you?" look before excusing himself from his spot if he's within one of my more potent bomb's proximity. When I'm on the receiving end of his silent but deadly detonations, he's likely wearing a "oh, I didn't think you'd notice" expression when I accuse/ask him if he was guilty. I've even seen him change places on my bed to get away from his own gas eruption.

Who would've ever thought that repugnant dog farts would be so entertaining?

Everyone Poops (I Poop Twice)

Animals - particularly dogs - use their bodily waste as unique identifiers for a number of different purposes (such as marking their territory). Usually they use their urine and I would assume that's because they have a bit more of that stuff to allocate at their discretion.

Apollo hasn't ever been much of a territory control kind of dog. Perhaps our indoor lifestyle has led to further domestication and removed that primal aspect from his instincts. When we're out walking in new areas or around the neighborhood, he's not one to stop at every tree, bush, or fire hydrant to tag it with his pee. He'll stop and sniff, but doesn't care to contribute.

However, he seems to feel the need to completely empty his bowels of feces on our extended outings. Apollo will pee once (maybe twice) but squat and poops two or three (sometimes more) times! Even during our daily bathroom routine - I know he's not done until he's given birth to brown babies at least twice in two different spots. I wonder if he uses his poop to mark his territory...

Big Boy

My dog is a genetic freak specimen. Coming in at a hefty 22 pounds, it's fair to say that he's quite big for his breed.

But let's get something clear: he's not fat. It's true that Dachshunds are prone to obesity and weight management issues - and Apollo could stand to lose a few pounds - but that's not what I mean when I describe him as "big". There's a clear difference/distinction between a sumo wrestler and a professional basketball player when you look at their BMI (body mass index) as well as their physical skills (i.e. agility, endurance, strength). Both of those types of athletes are massive when compared to the average person, yet with very different body types.

Apollo's original records from the pet store had identified him as a "miniature Dachshund" due to both of his parents being minis (dad and mom were 11 and 9 pounds respectively). I'm not 100% sure if that "miniature" trait is something like the genetic probability of off-springs inheriting similar eye colors or if it's something much deeper rooted like Dwarfism. Whatever it was, Apollo didn't get it.

I've yet to meet another doxen that's equal or larger than Apollo in person. I suppose Apollo wouldn't exactly be the physical equivalent of LeBron James reincarnated in the canine world, but he's not exactly a Yokozuna either. I suppose we'll settle for something like a Shaqille O'Neal - large body, can be quick (for a small period of time), and has good jumps.

Begging With Patience

All dogs love to eat, and mine is no exception. Unlike cats, most dogs don't have picky tendencies when it comes to food that's been put in front of them. I'd like to think that they take on the "beggars can't be choosers" motto - which makes a lot of sense when you think about the amount of begging they partake in every single day.

It all starts with their nose and ears. The instant they pick up the scent of food or a familiar sound (the fridge door opening, can opener, silverware drawer opening/closing) they are already on their way. Once you've settled into your seat and taken that first bite, your four-legged pal is on full alert. Their eyes now serve to accomplish two tasks. The first is all mechanical as their pupils track every motion and trajectory of the target (food) as it departs from your plate/bowl and travels up to your mouth. If it ever deviates off course - they're immediately there to say "I've got this!"

The second is to instill every sense of guilt and sympathy into you the instant you make eye contact with them. That's Apollo's go-to move, and it has a decent success rate. He's quite patient and it helps add to his case pleading for just a corner of my sandwich or a bite of pizza crust. It's hard to resist, which is part of the reason I think why I choose to watch TV as I eat... I need the distraction from Apollo's re-enactment of Oliver Twist saying, "Please sir, I want some more."

The Sock Bandit

Apollo - like all dogs - went through his destructive phase when he was a young puppy. I had figure out a way to withstand his chewing habits and minimize the financial hole that he was gnawing in my wallet.

Squeaky chew toys went right out the window as an option. They lasted about as long as the time it takes to microwave your TV dinner. Within minutes, the squeaks would be completely extinguished and bits of plastic, fur, or stuffing would be all that's left of a massacred animal. I had to find something else (and quickly) as anything that had either a soft or fuzzy quality all of a sudden had a shelf-life in my house.

One day as I was sorting my dirty laundry with Apollo watching intently, I dropped a sock on the floor. "A new toy!" I saw in his eyes... as he quickly scooped it up and ran off with his prize to evaluate closer on the other side of the room (away from poachers who might want to steal it back) before deciding to shred it into a hundred pieces. I didn't think much of it and decided not to attempt recovering it, as that sock had a small hole and was ready to be retired anyways. It suddenly dawned on me that this was exactly what I was looking for.

In additional to providing comfort for your feet, I came to realize that socks (especially worn and dirty ones) was one of Apollo's favorite things to play with. There were so many uses: we played fetch using them, stuffed them with treats and toys, I used it as a glove when he plays play-biting with me. And to this day he still loves the freshly worn, stinky ones that he steals right off my feet.

The way he runs away with a sock in his mouth, prancing around the room... reminds me that he will always be my little sock bandit.

Right On Cue

I'm sure one of the reasons why some people dislike dogs is because of their potential for noise pollution. The way that some dogs seemingly bark at the moon or for unknown reasons has surely pissed off a lot of people (including myself) at inopportune times of the day when we need silence. That fact alone has led me to be conscious about not encouraging Apollo to be excessively loud.

That's not to say that I've attempted to strip my dog of one of his primal instincts and natural reflexes to respond to his surroundings. I've never scolding him for those "appropriate" reactions, but will calm him down if he's still at it (barking) after a few moments. I do encourage and give Apollo plenty of opportunities to speak on my command - it makes me feel like we're conversing.

Again, it's the unsolicited vocal outbursts that are sometimes unnecessary and transpired at the most  inopportune times. The flexibility and luxury to work at home comes with both pros and cons. One of the pros: my dog is by my side nearly all day. One of the cons: my dog is a dog and will behave like one. No sooner had I finished thanking the audience for putting their microphones on mute to eliminate background noise for a training session I was leading did Apollo decide to make himself known to everyone by letting out a blaring bark.

His timing was embarrassingly right...on...cue.