I have to start this post with a disclaimer. I really do love animals. We have two cats and a dog and I've had pets all my life. There was just this one dog though...
My wife is on the board at the local SPCA so we stop over there on occasion. One time when we were there, they were naming some new animals they had just gotten in. There was this little dog there. Black and tan like a rottweiler pup. It was some sort of terrier though, so it was full grown. He was roughly 112,000 years old (in demon years.) They needed a name and my wife was wearing Levi jeans so I said, "Levi." They liked it and that was that or so I thought.
Levi had a hard time finding a home. Personally, I think it's because he was a mean little bastard, but The Wife thought it was because he was handicapped. He had a gimpy front leg. When you walked him it looked sort of like he had three legs and a flipper. Gimp leg would swing out and forward, plop down and repeat as he walked and made this little 'skritch' sound as his nails would drag on the pavement.
Time passed and Levi festered in the SPCA. Finally, one day, The Wife announced she was going to foster him so he didn't have to stay there. I begrudgingly said, "Okay."
He had this habit of trying to bite people in the heels. It's all he could reach, but after a few corrections, he at least stopped trying it with me. One day, someone decided they would take a chance on the miserable, little cur Levi.
When he got to his new owner, he rapidly made himself at home by unhousebreaking himself. This was made worse by the fact that she was a little older and couldn't really do a good job of retraining him. He was also one of those vile poop eating types. Yeah, because you want to see that happen in your house.
Back to the SPCA went Levi.
Enter The Wife.
TW: "We should keep him."
Me: "I don't like him. I'm sure the feeling is mutual too. I've seen him try to dial for a hitman. But he can't because of the gimpy paw."
TW: "That's mean."
I need to point out here that we had just gone through an ectopic pregnancy. It's was rough for both of us since we were told we couldn't get pregnant. At all. And then that happened. (Hey, Universe, I still owe you a big, "Fuck you!" for that one. Consider yourself served.)
Anyway, I could tell this was one of those things that would help.
Me: "Fine, but I'm calling him Mr. Hankey now due to the whole poop thing."
So home he came with us.
He would go for walks with us. We discovered we had to buy him these little booties for his paw because the top would scrape on the ground and it would get raw. I'm certain he did this only to inconvenience me though.
Time wore on and his name changed. He became 'little dog.' The Wife called him this because she used to carry him around like a 15-pound black and tan meatloaf. People would come over and remark how cute he was. They thought he was a rottie pup. Usually if they thought he was cute, I'd ask if they would like to adopt him. After about 20 or so hairy eyeballs from The Wife, I stopped.
Time ground on and little dog, nipper of heels, started peeing in the house even though he was going out regularly. Off to the vet. He was diabetic. Whoopee!
Gimpy and diabetic and mean (to everyone but The Wife and The Boy.)
The morning routine changed a little and I had to start giving him shots. Granted, it was some small satisfaction. "This is for your own good, Levi." Jab.
Time crawled through fields of razor wire and broken glass bisected by a river of burning bile.
Levi turned grey, but he was just teasing me. He clung to life like he would to my leg given the chance. Then, another joke on me. The diabetes caused blindness. It didn't much matter since The Wife carried him most places. He would just bump into things here and there. That didn't matter much either since snails would challenge him to drag out in the backyard. No harm done when he bumped into something. But for those of you keeping score:
Gimpy, diabetic, blind, mean.
Time nearly gave up. I kept resuscitating and yelling, "Finish it already."
One night, while trying to sleep, I was awoken by barking. Constant barking. I tried to reason with little dog. He was having none of it. Back to the vet. "He seems to be a bit senile," was the diagnosis. Frigging awesome. After The Wife would go to bed (she was sleeping in The Boy's room at the time and couldn't hear the barkitude we had going on) I would carry his crate down to the basement so I could sleep. I'd get up early and sneak him back up. Oh, and:
Gimpy, diabetic, blind, mean, senile.
One day I came down to find that the senility had advanced. How did I know you ask? He was covered in his own poop and urine. The Mr. Hankey joke was no longer quite so funny.
TW: "What are we going to do?"
Me: "That's funny that you chose the pronoun 'we.'
TW: "Get back here."
Me: "Fine, I'll hose him off in the yard."
TW: "It's 40 degrees out!"
Me: *shrug*
TW: "Fine, I'll take care of it."
Amen to that. This mercifully only went on for a week or two before we took him to the vet's office for one, last visit. She misses him from time to time. I don't, but there's no need to point that out to her.
It turns out here also that I was also a bit of a prophet when I named him. As proof, I present this:
37 comments:
I shouldn't laugh, right? Or forward this post to your wife?
Well, the nice and sympathetic side of me says, at least you gave him a nice home for his remaining years, where he felt loved (not by you...)The other side of me says HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!
Oh the poor little (evil) dog. You were a good sport to play along for all that time. And you do know that when you are diabetic, old, senile, blind, and mean, in oh say 30 years or so, someone's going to be praying for YOUR death, and karma's a bitch
But don't worry, I'll be young and virile and be able to take care of you. Thank goodness. :)
I once loved a boy named Levi. He wasn't gimpy, diabetic, blind, mean, or senile. And he most definitely did not eat his own poop. If he had, I'm sure I would have loved him a bit less... OK, a lot less.
If I were you, though, I'd start straightening my heathen ass up on Sundays... 'cause if you don't, Evil-Levi, currently functioning as Satan's little minion, is gonna be nipping at your heels for all eternity.
Ha, he did sound evil. I'm sorry he ended up the way he did though. We have big dumb mutts here, I can't stand little dogs. I got bit on the face by a little Levi-like dog once (to his credit, I was drunk at a party in a hula skirt and scared him).
I know it's wrong to laugh, but I literally launched a whole mouthful of tea across my office through my nose. That was an excellent story. After my Monday morning disaster, I can see you relate to me!
Why do little dogs think they're so big?
Funny story - even the ending, but then I'm not a pet person. We're stuck with a cat that my son bought 14 years ago. I start the car ready to make "the trip" whenever the thing sneezes, but he always bounces back. Now watch - I'll fly home next weekend & find 'im dead in the laundry room just because I left this comment.
That is the most hysterical story! I loved it. It reminded me of the dog my sister had. It was a Shit-zoo (i know, i know) and finally it was deaf, blind, had lyme's disease and had arthritis. I said, "Kathy, don't you want to put him out of his misery?" And she said, "Well, we're waiting for something to happen, and then it will be time."
something to happen? SOMETHING TO HAPPEN?
Sweet baby jesus.
Marinka: I found out this morning that she doesn't even know I have a blog. She never listens...
DeeMarie: It's the best of both worlds.
Petra: You're too sweet. I won't let that get out though.
Diane: Wow, that would be the one thing that might make hell unbearable.
Casey: See? More proof about the evility of little dogs.
CCG: Nah, it's never wrong to laugh.
Cameron: Overcompensation.
Jaxpop: I'll have served a purpose then.
Deb: LOL...it already happened.
OMG I cant stop laughing!
LEVI would have lasted about ten minutes in my house.
First of all, I'm so sorry about your loss, however belatedly. It always makes me feel hopeful, knowing others have lost pregnancies and then go on to be parents.
Secondly, I adopted an old, mean Yorkie who was an angel to me, but a regular jerk to my ex. Had to find him another home after my ex leaned in for a kiss and the dog bit him on the nose, and was promptly thrown across the room.
aw---poor Levi. Poor you. I knew a similar dog named Peanut. He was a shaky Chihuahua and I swear he lived to be 1900 years old. Nasty bastard, that one.
but you really have better straighten up--there might be something to the nipping in hell theory
Sorry but honestly I would of killed Levi, I just can't put of with evil dogs, no matter what. Call me heartless, but believe me, I love Animals, and have a bunch to prove it, but I'm not going to put of with CRAP like that.
Like I always tell Diane when she comes across some heathen child that drives her batty: just because he's a child doesn't mean you have to like him; you don't have to be mean to him, but you don't have to like him. Same with animals. So, there. Although, poor gimpy, diabetic, blind, mean and senile Levi. His deck was just stacked early on.
Cat: Thank you for that. If he's your ex, you picked wrong ;)
Paige: As long as I can take an insulin needle with me, I can fend him off.
Carrie: I didn't want to, trust me.
Mel: I was never mean. Those needles were for his own good.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Matt: Sadly, there is no right answer.
goodfather: That makes you and my wife ;)
Growing up I had to put up with every freakin animal under the sun. When the boys started asking for a dog recently, I got them fish. No bizarre and expensive ailments to deal with. Porcelain coffin.
What is wrong with you man? There was a perfectly wonderful story about a little dog that your family adopted and cared for and then you call him EVIL? I am so calling up the wife and see to it that you end up in the dog house. And believe me, when I find the word that Heinous spells when the letters are all mixed up, I will let you know. Until then, know that JIM spelled backwards is MIJ. Yeah, MIJ...beat that sucka!
Actually, my comment made no sense at all did it? Sorry.
The whole story makes me think of my father-in-law, for some reason.
Cap'n: lol...porcelin coffin. I wonder if little dog would have fit?
Heather: I tried my hardest.
Jen: Mij. It has a nice foreign feel to it.
Anna: That's sort of scary.
The things we do for our spouses!
I'm a firm believer that dogs want a job. There was no job available for Levi and at some point the unemployment runs out. Don't feel bad. Shit happens then you die. God, I can be so profound after a couple of glasses of wine.
Tell your wife I'm sorry for her loss. And, you not so much.
I KNEW dog's got senile!! My husband's old beagle in the back yard is senile. The husband won't face it.
Funny story.
Bwahahahahaha!
(No comment, just laughter!)
Oh. My. God.
That. Is a nightmare.
Ellie
Oddly, I can understand why she misses him. 'Cause I totally miss the old senile skinny bitchy cat that peed in my entranceway and broke my knee. She was totally cute.
And this is why we just smile and say: "Sorry. Allergic."
Wow... my Sharkdog has nothing on that little monster.
Tricia: Indeed. I think we deserve perks for this kind of stuff.
Michele: I'll be sure to let her know. Levi had a job: bane on my existence.
Mrs.D: Oh they do, trust me.
Jen: I'll take that :)
Ellie: I concur completely.
Trish: I can too, but I'll never be there ;)
Serena: I can't pull that one off.
dipity: bah, he had it good.
Anndi: Maybe he's working toward it.
Eww.
Evil dog.
This freaks me out because Pet Sematary was just on. (And WHY do they misspell the word 'cemetery'? Do you know?)
I nominate this as the best post of the year. I had no idea where it was going. You are going to make a short story out of this and sell it right? It's awesome... at least TW and the Boy loved him.
I am still laughing over here! I shoulda read this sooner and my weekend would have been much better for it.
You rock. My favorite post indeed!
Yeah, should have kept the dog and booted the ex. Would have saved me a divorce!
You know how I feel about evil little dogs, right? You will receive no judgement from me, friend. I did laugh MAO, so thanks for that!
So sorry about the ectopic pregnancy. Fucking universe is not fair at all.
Ann: If he ever comes back, I'm in trouble. Oh wait, he was creamated. How bad could that be?
Jen: Thanks. I wonder where they would buy a story like this...
Cat: Live and learn...always pick the dog.
MD: A nice cat I hope.
Jen: We need to start a club against the evil, little dog menace.
First, I'm sorry for your loss.
Second, I was torn throughout this entire story. I didn't know whether to laugh or say awww, poor little evil dog.
My ex sister in law had this cat without a single redeeming quality. He was ugly, stupid and unfriendly. He would eat all the food you put in front of him until he threw up. Since my ex sister in law and her husband couldn't figure out the automatic feeder, we would go over twice a day to feed the cat when they went away. One time she asked us to also check for sores on the cat's butt and put ointment on it, if he had any. We were like, umm...we'll feed your cat.
While I am writing this I think it may be a contributing factor as to why these in-laws needed to become ex in-laws.
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