Me & My Dogs

By Peg Crompton

Me & My Dogs is a memoir about the challenges and joys that come from living everyday life with pets in the home.
It is also about how owning pets can shape who we are, help us to grow, and keep us humble.
The book begins when the authors family goes to the dog pound to get their first dog and progresses from there, through the authors lifetime experiences with household pets.
Written with humor, insight, humility, and experience, Peg will have you laughing, crying, and flinching in response to her stories about her dogs. It is a delightful, easy read and a must read for all dog lovers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504905992

Peg Crompton

Peg Crompton has a bachelor’s degree in professional communication from Old Dominion University. She is a certified stress management coach, professional quilt maker, and she recently retired from non-profit work. Her hobbies include: reading, traveling, quilt making, piano playing, cross-stitching, knitting, painting, bike riding, and hiking. Ms. Crompton is the author of Journey to Peace: A 12 Step Program for Anxiety, Panic and Life; short stories; poetry; and professional journal articles. She currently lives in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with her husband and a cat.

Book preview

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2015 Peg Crompton. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/09/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0598-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0599-2 (e)

This is a work of non-fiction. Some of the names have been changed to protect the privacy of certain individuals. Any similarities to anyone else living or dead are purely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1 Trixie I

Chapter 2 Trixie II

Chapter 3 Trixie III

Chapter 4 Bartholomew I

Chapter 5 Bartholomew II

Chapter 6 Bartholomew III

Chapter 7 Bartholomew IV

Chapter 8 Bartholomew V

Chapter 9 Bartholomew VI

Chapter 10 Bartholomew VII

Chapter 11 Bartholomew VIII

Chapter 12 Bartholomew IX

Chapter 13 Bartholomew X

Chapter 14 Bartholomew XI

Chapter 15 Bartholomew XII

Chapter 16 Bartholomew XIII

Chapter 17 Bartholomew XIV

Chapter 18 Bartholomew XV

Chapter 19 Bartholomew XVI

Chapter 20 Bartholomew XVII

Chapter 21 Bartholomew XVIII

Chapter 22 Tobi I

Chapter 23 Tobi II

Chapter 24 Tobi III

Chapter 25 Tobi IV

Chapter 26 Tobi V

Chapter 27 Tobi VI

Chapter 28 Tobi VII

Chapter 29 Tobi VIII

Chapter 30 Tobi IX

Chapter 31 Tobi X

Chapter 32 Tobi XI

Chapter 33 Tobi XII

Chapter 34 Tobi XIII

Chapter 35 Tobi XIV

Chapter 36 Tobi XV

Chapter 37 Tobi XVI

Chapter 38 Tobi & Chico I

Chapter 39 Tobi XVII

Chapter 40 Tobi & Chico II

Chapter 41 Tobi & Chico III

Chapter 42 Tobi & Chico IV

Chapter 43 Tobi & Chico V

Chapter 44 Tobi & Chico VI

Chapter 45 Tobi & Chico VII

Chapter 46 Tobi & Chico VIII

Chapter 47 Chico I

Chapter 48 Chico II

Chapter 49 Chico III

Chapter 50 Chico IV and his friend

Chapter 51 Chico V and his friend

Chapter 52 Teddy I

Chapter 53 Chico VI

Chapter 54 Chico VII

Chapter 55 Chico VIII

Chapter 56 Chico IX

Chapter 57 Chico X

Chapter 58 Chico XI

Chapter 59 Chico XII

Chapter 60 Chico XIII

Chapter 61 Chico XIV

Chapter 62 Chico XV

Chapter 63 Chico XVI

Chapter 64 Chico XVII

Chapter 65 Chico XVIII

Chapter 66 Chico XIX

Chapter 67 Chico XX

Chapter 68 Chico XXI

Chapter 69 Life Lessons

Epilogue

Afterword

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all of the special people who adopt homeless, neglected, and/or abused animals and treat them with love, discipline, and respect.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book would not be possible if it were not for the support of my beloved husband and the encouragement of my family. Special thanks to my dear friend Sandy, long live Cinderella Lollipop!

Thank you

INTRODUCTION

It is truly a privilege to experience the joys of everyday life that come with having pets in the home.

I have learned life lessons from each of my pets that I may not have otherwise. I am grateful for each one of them, for it has shaped who I am. It has kept me humble, flexible, calmer, more humorous, and proud. What a blessing it has been and continues to be.

Not everyone understands how pets become part of the family and how truly responsible we feel for them. Surely, the loyalty and friendship they give us should be rewarded in some way. Treats and toys are not enough reward, but proper feeding, care, time, attention and true responsibility for their wellbeing is. For all of those out there who say, It’s just a dog, beware, there’s no such thing, at least not at our house.

In my lifetime, I have had the pleasure of owning four dogs and five cats. My first dog came to me when I was in second grade, with the rest following. There will be more to come, of that I am sure. I have never lived without a dog.

The story that follows is about these four dogs. I hope you will enjoy reading about their antics and that my literary illustrations will prove how fortunate we are when pets grace our lives. Thank you for taking the time to pick up this book and turn through its pages. I hope it is a delightful read for you.

CHAPTER 1

Trixie I

It is hard to imagine what we were thinking as we rode to the dog pound. There was a lot of excitement and anticipation, but I doubt very much that we understood anything about the realities of owning a dog. We were quite young at the time. My brother was in kindergarten and I in second grade when our parents agreed to add a dog to our family.

As soon as we pulled up to the puppy cottage and climbed out of the car the barking began. The dogs knew someone was there. My brother and I were sure that they all knew one of them was going to go home with us. The barking grew louder with each step as we approached the building. I was almost afraid to go inside, but as my parents opened the door and walked in, I followed.

The barking was overwhelmingly loud inside the building. It seemed to echo off the cold, concrete walls. The cages were sparse and small. The dogs looked lonely and frightened.

While perusing the cages we received a steady reminder from my parents that we were to pick a small dog and they helped us to see just where these dogs were. It was hard to concentrate because of all the barking. Most of the dogs were cute, but we stayed away from the larger dogs that barked and jumped, or growled.

Together, the family decided on a small puppy that was promised not to grow more than forty pounds as an adult. It was a girl. She was quiet, cute, and wagging her tail like crazy.

We thought she was so adorable, the cutest thing we’d ever seen. She was spotted with black and white, had smooth, longish hair and a playful spirit. It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen my brother, that moment the puppy was taken by leash and put in the backseat of the car with us.

The cute little puppy was jumping all over the back of the car, over our laps, onto the floor, up on the seat, chasing her tail, and peeing on the carpet at our feet.

Look, Daddy, she’s playing tricks, my brother and I took turns saying as we giggled all the way home while playing with our new puppy. We repeated this phrase so much on the way home that we all decided to name her Trixie. It seemed like the perfect name to us at the time. We were just thrilled, as if there was nothing else on earth that could be as exciting. It was a good day.

Our parents stopped to purchase all of the proper equipment, dog dishes, toys, food, treats and we went home with our new prize. It took some time to settle in, but Trixie took to her new surroundings fairly quickly. It was completely necessary for her to sniff everything in sight at least two or three times.

Eventually, we took Trixie to the veterinarian for a well check and immunizations. She didn’t seem to mind one bit, I think she rather liked the attention, and the treat they gave her. The vet told us that she was a mutt, part water spaniel/part collie, and she was healthy. She would indeed be a medium sized dog, about forty pounds. I think I saw my mother wipe her brow in relief.

We were soon to learn that there was a bit more responsibility to owning a pet than petting and playing. Trixie had to be fed, bathed, brushed, and taken outside frequently. We all took turns doing this, with mom being the master trainer. When my brother and I took her out on her leash, she took us for a walk while she ran, stopped to sniff the ground, and thrust us forward to her next sniffing spot. Our feet would go first then our necks and head would snap after us as we were pulled forward, quickly and without advance notice.

While mom did most of the serious training and discipline, we got to do the fun stuff. Mostly, we taught her new tricks, like, Give me your paw, Sit, Want a cookie, Want to go for a walk, and Want to go for a ride in the car?" Seeing as each of these accomplished tricks procured Trixie a dog treat, she readily and quickly learned to respond immediately and with great enthusiasm. It was so much fun for us to watch her comply with our commands, grow, and become a part of our family.

Dad taught her his own tricks that often found him laughing with amusement. Before we knew what happened, as soon as dad said, Bedtime, Trixie was at our heels biting and chasing us to our bedrooms. His laughter made us laugh and gave the dog enough positive feedback that this became the accepted bedtime routine for everyone.

In the mornings, if my brother and I did not like our cereal, we would sneak the bowl under the table, away from mom’s watchful eye and try to make it look like we had eaten enough. Trixie loved this new trick. She also liked to chase her tail, play tug-of-war, sleep in my room on the floor beside the bed, and greet company at the door when they arrived. One sound of the doorbell would send her flying across the room as if someone had come just to see her.

There were three things Trixie didn’t like. She didn’t like to eat fruit or vegetables (but any other table scrap would do). She didn’t like being put in the basement when we left the house, and going to the kennel when we were away was a definite no-no, it was the absolute worst.

Fruits and vegetables were spit out on the floor and my brother and I were easily caught trying to pass off our own portions onto the dog. It was maddening. If only she would just eat those darn vegetables, then we wouldn’t have to.

Putting her in the basement was painful for my brother and me because she so obviously disliked it. Trixie was always able to pick up on our energy and knew when we were getting ready to leave. She would try to hide. She’d cower, curl in her head to her chest and tremble. It was awful. Our parents insisted it was for her safety. We did not understand and would plead to let her stay upstairs.

It was even worse going to the kennel. On the way there she would know where she was going by sticking her head out the window and scoping the directions out by smell. We felt so bad for her because she would whine and cry and pace. Once we got there she would plant herself in the car and refuse to get out. It would break my heart when my family had to drag her into the kennel. I couldn’t wait to get home and claim her as ours again. I always expected Trixie to be just as excited upon our return, but she was just worn out from all the kennel mysteries.

Overall, Trixie was a very happy dog in those first few years. She got lots of attention from my brother and I and she seldom got into any real trouble. Trixie was a typical family dog, a good girl. It didn’t appear to take too long for her to grow into an adult and although she lost some of that fresh new life puppy appeal, we still thought she was the cutest dog ever and we loved her. Trixie was part of our family and was there to stay.

CHAPTER 2

Trixie II

Trixie was a good, healthy, adult dog and she had a good home. My parents had Trixie spayed, washed and brushed her coat, and took her for her regular veterinarian visits. My brother and I fed her, gave her water, and plenty of affection. The tradition of taking her for walks faded as the weather turned colder and it wasn’t long before our father found an easier way for all of us to let her out for short spurts of time.

Dad fastened a hook to a rope and tied it to the stair railing, making a dog run, of sorts. We were all taught to carefully lay the hook by the back door when the dog came in so none of would have to go out to get Trixie or her rope. We simply had to kneel down by the door, open it a crack and lift the hook to the dog’s collar and off she went. Once she was hooked, she took off down the stairs and made her rounds. Everyone knew how important it was to leave the hook close enough to the door to reach from inside. Our family got so used to doing this, that we would become perturbed if the hook was more than five feet from the doorstep. Sometimes the hook would fall down the stairs to the second, third, or bottom step. This was tough on those wintry New England nights, especially when the hook was frozen in the ice and snow and we had to pry it out.

Dad eventually put up a privacy fence in the backyard where the kids and dog can run. Boy, did we ever run! My brother and I ran circles around that yard with Trixie. We loved it. It was so exciting to take the dog off a leash and watch her race across the yard. What fun we had! Trixie loved to try and elude us. We would chase after her and she would change direction without stopping, like a cattle dog on the job. We would fall down when we tried to change direction without stopping and this would throw us into endless giggles. Our dog was just playing more tricks on us and she was good at it.

Life went on in this same fashion until my grandmother died and a thick fog engulfed our atmosphere. It got sad, quieter and more stressful in our home, especially when mom had to run to take care of grandpa all the time. Eventually, we had to move to a bigger home so grandpa could come and live with us. My brother and I were closing in on the teen years at ten and twelve so a bigger house would give us all more space too. As luck turned out, my parents found a house just two blocks away so we got to stay in the same neighborhood and schools.

The new house did not have a fenced in yard, so we went back to the hook and rope method of letting out the dog. The hook was getting old. It was a little rusty and didn’t always hold. Sometimes Trixie would get loose and sprint away. She always went back to the old house, ran up the back steps to sit down, and waited to be let in.

It took a long time to sell the old house and we traveled back there often to retrieve Trixie. I didn’t mind because I wanted to be back there with her, I wasn’t happy about moving. After some time we all adjusted and Trixie and I stopped going to the old house.

My brother and I would still occasionally take Trixie for walks or go outside with her to play around, but as we grew into teenagers and our lives got busier we did this less and less often. Life just got in the way. It seemed okay because Trixie spent the majority of her time indoors anyway. That is where she liked to be.

As Trixie aged along with us she became a little less playful and more content to just be with us. She would lie on the floor beside me as I did homework, listened to music, or read a book, pressing her side against me. It was so warm and cozy.

One day, Trixie started to scratch her ears and they became irritated and red. Off to the vet we went. The veterinarian told us that she had an allergy to the carpeting in our home. He gave us some eardrops for her and told us to keep her off the carpets. Sounds simple enough, but it was not.

Mom and dad bought a dog gate for the kitchen doorway, and Trixie was sentenced to kitchen duty to keep her off the carpets. Of course she didn’t understand what was happening, she just wanted to be with us. The poor dog would whine, cry and bark. I missed having her in my room for company and felt bad about locking her in the kitchen. I knew she didn’t understand and that was hard for me.

The gate also made it inconvenient to get in and out of the kitchen. We would have to straddle and climb over the gate to enter the kitchen. This practice often ended up with a crash as we knocked down the gate. Trixie would run from the kitchen in fear of the startling noise of the crashing gate. This meant we would have to go get her, coax her back into the kitchen and refasten the gate. I don’t remember how long this went on, but I’m pretty sure it was short-lived. It ended up being way too impractical and inconvenient.

To keep Trixie off the carpets at night time, I let her sleep in bed with me. Curled up like a ball at the end of my bed, we both slept contentedly. I loved having her with me and she liked being there, especially since our house was an old drafty one. We kept each other warm at night.

The first thing I did when I came home from school every day was take the dog out, let her in again and play with her. I spent many of my teenage afternoons and evenings with Trixie as