TL;DR – I’ll miss you girl. RIP Puppy.

I remember when we first got her. She’d been drawn out as the scrappy one from the puppy mill, she was cheap but “full blooded”. Her tail was cut to the bone and the ghetto stitch work only made it harder to keep clean.

As she grew into adult hood, the physical characteristics of her breed never appeared. Her muzzle was narrow, her chest/neck only showed a small patch of white, her nub of a tail – was seriously nubby, and she was small – always too skinny and small to be recognized as a “Boxer”. But she made up for it in style. She slept face up in a warm sun under the shade, hunt pigeons for fun, fight for her puppies, and sat on her blanket to eat.

Soon she’d learn from her mate to do what a good dog does. Keep an eye on the house and on the kids. They lived happily and had puppies. In her first litter there were 5 healthy picture perfect babies, who would be the reason for 3 of the nastiest dog fights I’d ever witness. All of whom played out like this. The boy, out of curiosity would always try and find the puppies when she would go out of the house to eat/poop. if she saw him anywhere other than in the little cage area of the back yard… it was ON.  [he never seemed like he was going to do anything to them other than say hi – I’d seem him like one as to say hello. but who knows maybe he was tasting it.].

She would growl, then bark, then sprint towards him with teeth ready to kill. I just remember seeing her with red eyes, being pinned by the throat as her large headed man tried to control her. She’d then slip out of the choke by twisting her torso and biting his floppy ears. That’s when the guy didn’t give a fuck and humans had to intervene as we knew that they were fighting for blood or something worse… They were full sized adults by then. It’s weird how dogs lift off into the air swiping with their paws, landing on their side, quickly getting up to then snap at the muzzle/neck of the other. The boy was always the one to get the worst of it, I’m guessing he never locked his jaw. He clearly always had the upper hand, as he was stronger and faster, but that bitch kept going over and over.

From then on we knew what to do whenever she had babies. The second litter was only 3 but they were cute and went fast. The last litter wasn’t as nice. It was a hot week in July/August when she went into labor. Those puppies were small. I remember seeing them all of them a little small. It wasn’t long before we knew there was trouble. She had six. 3 passed. For all of them she wouldn’t let us approach she’d push us away and block the entrance. The last one to go was the worst. That day we knew there was one in there and for a few hours we tried to coax her out. Finally around sundown when the sun is just past the mountain, she came out. When we got up she ran back to her babies. I went inside and saw the rest from the window. She came outside and with the gentleness that only a mother can have, laid her puppy on the grass by my mothers feet. She stepped back and they [my mom and dog] looked at each other. My dog turned back to the rest of the litter and my mom teared up.

You should never compare a shitty mother to a bitch.

A year later her mate would die from a brain tumor.

She would become top dog, alone. She would be there for anyone who wanted to play. She was amazing with kids.

Later after I’d come back from phoenix and by a misinterpretation we’d end up buying another dog. I think this really helped her revitalize the more I think about it.

But she was old and knew of a more amazing mate than this smaller idiot of a dog. Seriously, her first mate was smarter, bigger, and way more obedient.

But as all creatures in life, she grew old. I only noticed her failing hips when she gradually stopped climbing on me, her cataracts as she would stop running in the dark for supper, her deafness when she stopped barking when I’d have to go thru the back door on drunken nights. And finally her pain of the tumors. She’d lost weight, ate slower, would avoid being touched on her right side, and she slept and slept and slept. Her tears just kind of became crusted over her eyes.

It was about two weeks ago that she’d finally conceded to being petted on her right. She just snuggled against me, I’d feel it and you could feel that sharp sour pain she must have had. I knew it wasn’t long before I’d have to hug her on a vets table.

These last few weeks were rough. But I tried to make it her best. I owe that much to her.

One thing that will always stay in my mind is what I guess all dogs give their owners. The love and loyalty of true friendship.

Over the past days I’d pet her and groom her and she’d just be quiet with me. She was weak and must have known more than I did because any time I’d get sad and started to tear up she’d look at me, with the biggest most loving eyes and one of those calm happy dog smiles, kind of saying “don’t worry, we’ll be alright"

I know you will be, I know I’ll be.

Girl you’re in doggy heaven now right with your boy and lost puppies. Hopefully you’ll remember us as good people and loving owners. I will miss you.