Some sort of sad news

This is a recent photo taken of Mickey the stupid dog, as Justin so lovingly called him. He was given to Timmy for Christmas in 2000, after I gave in and agreed to having a pet. Justin was going to get a kitten, his pet of choice, but the one we were going to adopt did not work out in time for Christmas. He later did get Boots and enjoyed him until Justin went to college. Boots now lives with the Lawcock's, our church friends, and they love having him in their pet family.

But, anyway, back to Mickey. He was born in September of 2000 so when we got him on Christmas Eve that year, he was about three months old. Timmy loved him, I have video tape of him running around in the front yard chasing that dog. On Christmas morning, Mickey fell into the pool and my former spouse had to fish him out. Yeah, I know....

That dog was nothing but trouble. We were warned by our friends from church, the Roys, about the barking and yowling, but we were committed. And should have been committed for trying this pet business!!!  Using baby gates, we coralled Mickey in the pool bathroom and would let him out on the patio for his potty. A good deal of time and effort was exerted to clean up the concrete after the dog. Sometimes he was outside the enclosure, but the fear was always that he'd go running off. We had plenty of trees to tie him to but that Houdini of a dog could escape.

He barked in the house, he barked in the yard, he barked on the patio, even if he wore a barking collar which was to shock him when he raised his voice. Numerous electric collar sytems were purchased to keep him from running off. While he was on the patio and not barking, he gnawed on the legs of our furniture...our expensive furniture. But Timmy liked him....

Then, only weeks after getting the dog, Timmy died, and that was that. No real training or anything happened with the dog other than scolding. Mickey would ignore the shocks of the collar and go running around the neighborhood, with neighbors calling to report our dog in their yard. We'd have to drop what we were doing at work and go round up that stupid dog. One time, Michael, our 'house boy', had to chase Mickey all the way around the pond in the neighborhood, and when he caught him, told me he was never doing that again!!

After our separation, Mickey went to live with my former spouse. Justin would still get to enjoy time with the dog, even being the official dog sitter when his father was out of town. More than once Mickey was hit by a car or hurt in some other way (our former employees even finding Mickey tracking mud into their nearly completed homes under construction!!). 

Justin would come home with stories about that 'stupid dog', and how he is regularly being taken to the vet for one malady or another. Ever since Mickey chewed through a cord and got shocked, he had a drooling problem (ask me again why I don't want pets!) and had to take medication disguised in food items. Ugh! When his father was married, a couple more dogs were introduced into the mix, the dustball looking kind, which Justin would also have to dog sit. Fun fun fun! I always said that if that dog had not been Timmy's dog, he would have been gone a long time ago. 

A couple weeks back, Mickey had to be put down, which Justin found out on Facebook. He had some sort of cancer and had lost weight, so it was time. At the age of 13 calendar years, 70+ if counted in normal dog years, he was put to sleep. I felt kind of sad, but mostly because he was Timmy's pet. Sort of the end of an era...