Dumb Dog

The year before my parents divorced my mother bought a puppy. This should've been a big clue that they were about to go their separate ways because my mother had never really bought something with out conferring with my father first. Anywhoo..my sister and I went with my mom and together we picked out the cutest little white fluffy fluff we had ever seen! He was part shitzu and part poodle or, as we lovingly call him, a shitz-poo. For some reason we named this tiny little cotton ball Theodore.

Theodore has gone by many names. Theo, Theodorable, Theohorrible, Theefur, Theefurner, Theefee and Fur-fa-ner. He was cute and sweet and cuddly and an all around great dog!

Mom and Dad divorced. My brother had left for the NAVY and I left soon after for college. It was not long until my sister left to spread her wings as well. Then it was just mom and Fi-fi. Mom would rave about how perfect Theodore was and oh, what will she do when he dies? She said she would just HAVE to get another dog but could there possibly be one as great as Theodore?

Enter Franklin. One of mom's friends had found Franklin but could not find his owner. Franklin practically chose my mom when he jumped into her car. He was a very cute black and white shitzu. So mom kept him and named him Franklin to go with what was now a Roosevelt theme.

They got along...mostly. Theodore was getting old and though Franklin was no spring chicken, he was still a bit much for the old man. They could not be on the same couch together without growling and snapping at each other. Also Theodore's hearing was getting bad and so if he walked out of the house he was not good about coming back when you called him. And then came the puddles.

Mom kept finding puddles and smelling pee but was never sure which one was the culprit. (If you ask me it was both!) Theodore's eyesight was getting bad too and several times he would take off and mom would call him and chase him but he kept running off squinting all the way. Mom was really getting fed up.

One night the dogs were out in her backyard and mom fell asleep on her couch. When she woke up Franklin was scratching at the door and Theodore was gone. She says the lawn guy must have left the back gate open. So she says...

Mom and I live in the same neighborhood and I was driving home and saw a sign that read "found white fluffy male." I squealed to my sons that I thought that we had found Theo! (They had been so upset that he had been missing.) For some reason I called mom first to let her know and to let her know that I could pick him up for her.

"Don't call them!" was her response.
"what?"
"You heard me. Please don't call them. We have been so happy with out him! You just don't know. And don't you dare tell your brother and sister!"

I was dumbfounded. I got back in the car to a barrage of "Did you find him? Is it him? Can we go get him?"

"I just left a message." I lied.

I went home and told my husband what happened. He told me to call and get the dog and that we would keep him because it was the right thing to do. The old dog is 16 years old, deaf, blind, incontinent and his breath smells like death. No one but family was going to put up with that.

So I have this dog. I call him Theoturd. My sons call him Fluffadore. He wears diapers and he does not return when we call him. He often gets lost in the wooded acre between my house and my neighbors. I watch him wander about in there, walking right into low branches and shrubs, squinting and shivering when it's drizzling and chilly out like today. I clap to him because he can sometimes hear that. He didn't today and I kept on after him through the woods and shrubs too. Dumb dog. Dumb, dumb dog.

I finally caught up to him and brought him home. "Yea! Oh thank you mom! You are the best mom ever! Oh Theodore! You are so cutie, cutie, shmootie, doobbie!"

Yep. The boys are happy. It will be a sad day when this dog dies but I don't think he ever will. I swear he is getting healthier!