Monday, January 10, 2005
Christmas of 1990 finally ended tonight. After 14 years and --what, 2-3 weeks is it?--December 25th, 1990 has passed, and with it a chapter in my life.
You see, my mother meant to make that Christmas my most memorable. So she arranged for us to take a train from Minneapolis to Chicagoa few days before Dec 25th, where we would stay at the Palmer House, and enjoy REAL CHICAGO pizza. ONce there, we would attend a Bears game (the first of my life), and eat at Ditka's (the reteraunt, not the coach's house). It was amazing. We road the train back to Minneapolis, and when we got back, we spent Christmas day with a good friend of hers.
Having spent time in Chicago watching my favorite team,and meeting my favorite coach at his resteraunt, I had enough memories to last me a lifetime. But it wasn't over just yet. From a back bedroom, they brought out a small silver/tan furball with a big black snoot. It had a red ribbon tied around it, and I remember thinking "Well, some lucky kid here is getting a memorable Christmas, they're getting a really cute puppy."
That lucky kid was me. He was adorable. I picked him up right away, and promised in a little kid way that I'd never let him go. And then I dropped him. On the floor. On his nose.
It was a complete , with a wiggly puppy and all, and I felt completely embarrassed by it, but the only people who heard my promise was those who could read my thoughts. And MAYBE that little puppy.
I named him Payton, after Walter Payton, my childhood role . Payton Hampton Nelson. He would go to the lake cabin we had and get lost in the weeds,a nd romp and play, and get dirty, and smell like any other dog does when they roll around in the mud, or swim in a lake. Everyone at some point gets introduced to the wet dog smell. It's right up there with Deviled-egg farts from "Crazy Uncle Roy" or "burning pile of tires", or "crazy-hippy-girl who hasn't showered in 3 days but is 'in the mood'" or "Tacoma". And if you haven't ever had the chance to smell wet dog...I pity you.
There was one time we were riding in the back seat of a car, and the window was rolled down. We pulled into the lake cabin, which has a large wide open field next to it. In the middle of that field was a large groundchuck, or some similar rodent. He saw this, and jumped out the window of a moving car to chase it down to the waters edge. As we got out of the car, we heard a large yelp, and 5 minutes later, he came back happy as could be, but with a large gash across his nose.
Payton was a gentle dog, who never hurt anyone. He liked to chase the cats about the house when he was a young puppy, and as my family grew, he came to love them as well. Better than most dogs, he tolerated young Restory's hands pulling at his fur, or pushes and pulls at him.
He watched over my mother as she died, staying at her side as she succumbed to cancer.
And tonight, they are re-joined. I had to put him to sleep today, and I miss him already. I have lost my best friend. He never judged me. He never criticized me. There were no conditions with him. I feel as if I have betrayed him. I stayed with him until the end. He passed quietly. He was relaxed thanks to a sedative, and then they administered the medication to stop his heart.
Stopped his heart. Feh. Maybe in a physical sense. But not in an emotional way. I'll admit that he wasn't teh smartest dog, or the best dog. He didn't know any tricks. BUt he was a dumb goofy dog with alot of heart. He deserved better than I gave him.
All good things come to an end. No good thing lasts as long as we want it to. So enjoy the good things that you have in your life while you can.
I apologize for the rambling. I wanted to wax poetic about my puppy, but instead I seem to be blubbering online. SO much to say, so little time. Not nearly enough time to share all of the memories he has brought me. It's one door closing in my life, and I am waiting for another to open.
You see, my mother meant to make that Christmas my most memorable. So she arranged for us to take a train from Minneapolis to Chicagoa few days before Dec 25th, where we would stay at the Palmer House, and enjoy REAL CHICAGO pizza. ONce there, we would attend a Bears game (the first of my life), and eat at Ditka's (the reteraunt, not the coach's house). It was amazing. We road the train back to Minneapolis, and when we got back, we spent Christmas day with a good friend of hers.
Having spent time in Chicago watching my favorite team,and meeting my favorite coach at his resteraunt, I had enough memories to last me a lifetime. But it wasn't over just yet. From a back bedroom, they brought out a small silver/tan furball with a big black snoot. It had a red ribbon tied around it, and I remember thinking "Well, some lucky kid here is getting a memorable Christmas, they're getting a really cute puppy."
That lucky kid was me. He was adorable. I picked him up right away, and promised in a little kid way that I'd never let him go. And then I dropped him. On the floor. On his nose.
It was a complete , with a wiggly puppy and all, and I felt completely embarrassed by it, but the only people who heard my promise was those who could read my thoughts. And MAYBE that little puppy.
I named him Payton, after Walter Payton, my childhood role . Payton Hampton Nelson. He would go to the lake cabin we had and get lost in the weeds,a nd romp and play, and get dirty, and smell like any other dog does when they roll around in the mud, or swim in a lake. Everyone at some point gets introduced to the wet dog smell. It's right up there with Deviled-egg farts from "Crazy Uncle Roy" or "burning pile of tires", or "crazy-hippy-girl who hasn't showered in 3 days but is 'in the mood'" or "Tacoma". And if you haven't ever had the chance to smell wet dog...I pity you.
There was one time we were riding in the back seat of a car, and the window was rolled down. We pulled into the lake cabin, which has a large wide open field next to it. In the middle of that field was a large groundchuck, or some similar rodent. He saw this, and jumped out the window of a moving car to chase it down to the waters edge. As we got out of the car, we heard a large yelp, and 5 minutes later, he came back happy as could be, but with a large gash across his nose.
Payton was a gentle dog, who never hurt anyone. He liked to chase the cats about the house when he was a young puppy, and as my family grew, he came to love them as well. Better than most dogs, he tolerated young Restory's hands pulling at his fur, or pushes and pulls at him.
He watched over my mother as she died, staying at her side as she succumbed to cancer.
And tonight, they are re-joined. I had to put him to sleep today, and I miss him already. I have lost my best friend. He never judged me. He never criticized me. There were no conditions with him. I feel as if I have betrayed him. I stayed with him until the end. He passed quietly. He was relaxed thanks to a sedative, and then they administered the medication to stop his heart.
Stopped his heart. Feh. Maybe in a physical sense. But not in an emotional way. I'll admit that he wasn't teh smartest dog, or the best dog. He didn't know any tricks. BUt he was a dumb goofy dog with alot of heart. He deserved better than I gave him.
All good things come to an end. No good thing lasts as long as we want it to. So enjoy the good things that you have in your life while you can.
I apologize for the rambling. I wanted to wax poetic about my puppy, but instead I seem to be blubbering online. SO much to say, so little time. Not nearly enough time to share all of the memories he has brought me. It's one door closing in my life, and I am waiting for another to open.
Comments:
Post a Comment
