Gene's Blog

I didn’t know he was for me

I put this on the Rainbow Bridge website a bit ago. I’d been sent, again, a story about an old man who was walking along a road with a dog when he suddenly realized he was dead and so had been, for many years, the dog at his side. He approached a place with pearly gates that looked wonderful, there was a person sitting at the gate. He asked what the place was and was told it was Heaven. He asked if he could come in and get a drink, the person said sure, then he asked if his friend could come too, and the person said, sorry, we don’t allow pets in here. He decided to keep walking. After another long spell, he came upon another gate, no fence this time, and again there was someone sitting at the gate, he asked if he could get a drink, the person said, yes, so then he asked if his friend could come in too, and the person said sure, there’s a bowl by the pump. He got himself a drink of cold water, filled the bowl for his dog, then walked back to the gate and asked what this place was. This is Heaven, he was told. He said he’d been told another place back down the road was Heaven, and the person said no, that’s Hell, and we thank them for weeding out the people who would leave their best friend behind.

That got me to thinking about my Cisco so I went back to the Rainbow Bridge site and posted this:

My youngest son, Brandon, wanted a dog for his 20th birthday so we went to the local Humane Society to get one. As we walked in, there was this one tiny little guy, out front in a huge cage all by himself, he yapped hello to us and the front counter people told us he was too young to be back with the others.

So my son and I went in the back and looked at all the marvelous dogs but he couldn’t really decide, there were two beautiful Shepherd mixes, brothers, but we couldn’t have two and I wouldn’t have wanted to be the one to separate them anyway. So we went back out front to look at that little guy again. I knelt down and stuck my finger in the cage and he bit me, then sat down and smirked. He was jet black, but for a splash of white across his hind toes and a little splash on his chest. He was half Lab, half Shepherd, they told us, though he looked like a Lab but with the long black hair of a Shepherd only thick as a Lab. No dog on earth has ever shed like Cisco!

He was 7 pounds, 7 ounces and 7 weeks old, and we decided to take him home. AFTER I signed the paperwork and wrote the check, they said we might notice he was a little noisy at night. A little? That first night he slept, well he didn’t sleep but he was IN a box by my son’s bed. He cried ALL night long, he’d cry till his little voice would give out in a squawk, he’d be quiet a couple minutes then start crying again. The next morning, my son told me, “Dad, I don’t think I can handle another night like that.” I told him I couldn’t either, from then on Cisco slept with my son, quietly and contentedly.

For just 13 months, then when Brandon took his life, Cisco became mine. For the next 13 years we shared everything together. They said he’d get to be about 65 pounds, he stopped growing at 120, not fat, tall and strong. We walked our suburb at all hours of the day and night, often very early so I could let him off leash, a dog that big needs room to run, and he loved running. He’d run with me with that perfectly efficient movement all dogs have for 5 miles, then I’d be done, and we’d stop at a park and he’d race around by himself for another half hour while I cooled down.

The first time he saw water, he was about 7 months old, he and I were walking through a park near us, a good-sized creek ran through it. About halfway through the creek had a big bend, on the other side a huge old tree hung out over the water and two boys, maybe 10 or 11, had a rope tied there and were swinging out and dropping into the water. Cisco and I were about 5 feet above the water on a ledge, he looked up at me his Lab instincts at full alert, somehow we were ALWAYS able to read each other’s mind, and I knew he was asking, “can I?”. I said, sure, buddy. Well, he took off running in the OTHER direction and I thought oh-oh, but 20 yards out he turned and circled back, and leapt off that ledge all the way out to where those boys were dropping in. He came up sputtering and looking at me like “WHAT did I just do?”, clambered up the bank and did it again. The two kids were as amazed as I was at what he did and were literally rolling on the ground laughing. We had many such experiences.

He wasn’t a typical anything, certainly not a Lab since he didn’t like to play fetch. Occasionally, he’d bring me a ball, I’d toss it for him, EVERY time he’d give me this look like “WHAT did you do THAT for?”, go get it, bring it back, I’d toss it, get the look, and after 3 or 4 tosses he was done with that. But he NEVER did that without giving me that “Are you crazy, I just GAVE you that, look.”

He had horrible separation anxiety his first three years as do many Labs. My internet research found that Labs will often chew when anxious for the first three years of their lives. The first year he only ate my son’s shoes and such, when Brandon would leave him alone while I was at work. But when my son died and we became each other’s, he turned to MY stuff, he ate furniture, woodwork, wallboard, a couch, lounge chair, how I have no idea. But I’d hear him as I left in the morning for work and got into the car in my garage, a heart breaking howl. On his 3rd birthday, I told him, okay, buddy, now you’re 3 and that chewing stops! He quit on his own terms the way he did everything about three months later.

If I had known when we got him that he was going to be mine alone in a year, I couldn’t have borne the thought. But when my son died, Cisco was the only reason I got out of bed many days, because he needed me. He was the best friend I’ve ever had for 13 blessed years. He passed in August, 2009, age and arthritis, tumors, he couldn’t always get to his feet by himself, couldn’t manage stairs anymore, would sometimes fall while outside and meet my eyes with what I KNEW was a “please help me” look. It was his time and now all I have left of the two of them are a small rock Brandon gave me when he was 5, an old piece of tar he brought in all excited to give me, it was multi colored and I asked what it was, and he said, its a beauty rock, Dad, for you. It’s been on my kitchen counter ever since and next to it now rests a clay paw print of our beloved Cisco. An angel sent to me straight from God to guide me through the grief and sorrow of the years following my son’s death, who ultimately meant more to me than any dog I’ve ever known. He better be waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge, or some entity will be dealing with one very unhappy spirit, because no afterlife would be complete without him, as is my life now incomplete without him. Cisco, love of my life, the bestest puppy boy the world ever saw, who loved everyone he met after first scaring them witless with his size, and who gave me his whole being for so many blessed years. I didn’t know he was really meant for me, but I’m glad he was. I don’t know that I would have survived the blow of Brandon’s suicide but for him. He made my life mean something again, he gave all he had to me, every day and I only wanted to do the same for him. I really want to see him again, Brandon too, of course, but this piece is for Cisco, my rock and my best friend forever.

I still miss them both with all my heart. I live, but life is a bit emptier than it should be without them. If there were “A” thing I could change here in this wondrous universe, it would be to expand the life span of our fur babies. I realize that could be difficult, but for me? I’d still be surrounded by a small menagerie of wonderful friends from Bullet, who protected me, to King who raised me, to Cisco who saved me. That would be close enough to heaven for me. :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene