THE DOG, THE DOG, SHE'S AT IT AGAIN!

A Gentle RANT About The Passing of Miss Nikki

“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.” Josh Billings

Much has been written that dogs are people's best friends. YES!!! With tears in my eyes, I will preach it from the mountaintops, or at least, from my pulpit here on the Ridge in New Concord. Dogs are a joy, or as a friend on my Facebook page posted on Saturday night: "Our four-footed children enrich our lives in immeasurable ways." Amen. I grew up with dogs (allergic to cats) in Ohio and have had three dogs since moving to New York in the eighties. 

Earlier that day, we had to put down our beloved 15-year-old adopted Llewellin Setter, Miss Nikki. (Three years to the date that my father-in-law Jack passed away.) My family got to do it together. Some of my readers have had to do it with their cherished companions. It is a heartbreaking moment in life. Some may scoff and say, "Well, it's just a dog." No, it's another sentient being that possesses a soul, and that is part of the fabric of this universe, a universe teaming with life and filled with endless vibrations of love. Love that it reflects to us when we reflect our love to them. A constant companion that never complains (unless hungry) and is always by your side (unless chasing squirrels).

And they dream. Have you ever watched a dog dream?

When we were looking to adopt a puppy fifteen years ago, my seven-year-old daughter asked me if we could name our new pup Nikki. We hadn't even met her yet, so we didn't know her name. And who knows if that name would fit with her personality. As fate would have it, the previous owner had already named her Nikki. Kismet! As soon as we met her, we knew she had "found" us. 

As we processed our grief, my daughter shared a song on her iPhone about a dog by one of our favorite singer-songwriters, Chris Stapleton. "Maggie's Song" opened up the floodgate of tears for all of us. I knew I had heard the song before but was too emotional to recall where. I quickly checked my vinyl collection and found it on Stapleton's album Starting Over. I don't know how he did it, but he captured every fiber of a "dog" into 3:31 seconds of music—devastatingly heart-wrenching. After multiple spins, I told my daughter we should re-record it using Nikki's name. Well, my daughter did just that the next day and sent it to me.

Music, especially music about dogs and animals, has been so helpful during these last few days in allowing me to relive some of the moments we shared with our precious pup. As I cleaned the house, I found some of her old toys and balls she had discarded, the well-worn blanket she would curl into, and an old cushion with her fur and slobber all over it. It was an empty house now. She was no longer there to follow me into every room I entered. And even though her body was flooded with pain last week, she still managed to follow me to my studio and rested at my feet as I recorded a new song. It would be our final session together. Her spirit and memories remain now and forever in that song.

She was a loyal, sweet dog. She had a "nose" for food—after all, the breed is a hunting dog known for its "nose," and hers was extraordinary. I will miss her begging at every meal. Yes, I indulged in that bothersome behavior. I always shared my meals with her.

She was our "Arrow," as in the Harry Nilsson song, "Me and My Arrow," from his album, The Point. His 1971 animated film was played many times for my children, even before Nikki found us. (Here's a YouTube link to it.) As that song rattled around in my brain, I read with tears in my eyes what my son Luca had posted on Instagram about her:

"My beloved dog Nikki was put to sleep this afternoon. She was the sweetest, kindest, and craziest dog you've ever known. Nikki lived 15 happy years with our family. From day one, she loved us; we loved her with all our hearts. Those who met her know she did whatever she could to get food—begging at the table, jumping on the counter when you were not looking, and opening the fridge when we weren't home. Over the years, Nikki got into fresh brownie batches, whole chickens, and a bag of chocolate and destroyed an English Trifle during a Christmas dinner."

"Nikki was riddled with anxiety the moment we adopted her. If you left her alone in the apartment, she'd bark until you got home, terrified that you'd never return. Nikki's anxiety also fueled her will to keep fighting. When she was 7 years old, she needed hip surgery after trying to jump up on our counter to get to some baked goods. Well, she nearly died when she had an allergic reaction to propofol. The vet said she probably wouldn't live through the night, but Nikki's refusal to leave her family kept her going. There was nothing that could take her down. She taught me responsibility and helped me grow up. Nikki was a spaz just like me, and I'll never forget her."

She was special, and she made us all feel better being around her. Even our friends or strangers who met her would comment on how sweet and gentle she was. 

Moreover, I was gobsmacked when my wife informed me yesterday that two of our friends donated money in Nikki's memory to the ASPCA. If anyone else cares to do so, here's the link.

I know we will adopt another dog in the near future. Or perhaps that dog will adopt us. And we will all be better for it.

If you feel compelled, please leave a quick story or picture of your dog or pet in the comment section below.