The Misadventures of Levi

Unless you’re a dog owner you probably won’t understand how embarrassing it was to have Levi bring me his ball and ever so politely drop it at my feet while I was sitting on the toilet. Embarrassing because: 1) who really wants their privacy invaded at a time like that---even by your dog; 2) how neglected does your dog have to feel when the only time he can find you sitting still long enough to throw a ball is when you’re in the bathroom; and 3) granted his life is more boring than mine but, really, who does he think he is bossing me around like that? As I sat there I imagined drawing a cartoon of the situation and wondering what kinds of things I could write in the word balloon above Levi’s head. Maybe something like: “You humans claim to be good at multi-tasking. Prove it,” or “if you didn’t want me in here then you should have closed the door,” or “you’re always watching me poop. What’s the big deal if I watch you?”

That afternoon guilt drove me to arrange a play date for Levi with his cousin Ted and when we all got to the dog park there was a giant Doberman pinscher running in the large dog pen. Ted’s mom and I put our two babies in the small dog area but all the three dogs did was chase each other up and down the common fence. So we decide to put them together and see what developed. It was no small leap of faith to pair these dogs up. The Doberman weighed 178 pounds to Levi’s 27 and Ted’s 20. But as I looked the Doberman over for battle scarred from fighting, and to see if he had blood dripping from his chin from easting a kitten for lunch, his owner assured us that when his sleek, black giant was wearing his shock collar he wouldn’t dare misbehave. And he didn’t. He seemed to take great delight at getting Ted to chase him around, the giant staying just out of his reach while he looked back with a silly grin on his canine face. Levi, for the most part, ignored the other two dogs while he went off to the weedy end of the park to find some poison ivy he could bring home on his fur. Last summer he went weed walking and it cost me over a $150 in doctor bills. I don’t just get poison ivy, I’m allergic to it.

Today I was packing an e-Bay box for Fedex and Levi started in with his mind reading parlor tricks, parking himself in front of the door to the garage and barking excitedly. The message couldn’t have been clearer. It was if one of those cartoonist’s word balloons appeared over his head saying, “Fedex is right next door to the pet store and I want to go shopping!” So off we went to a place where Levi can touch noses with the rabbits and cats in cages, pick out his own treats after a great deal of deliberation, and get the best darn cooing pets and hugs in the city from the cashiers. Chow Hound is Levi’s Planet Hollywood.

After Planet Hollywood I took Levi down to the ‘Plaza of Recognition’ to find the memorial brick placed there recently in Don’s memory. It was the first time I’d seen it and I know Don would have been pleased with its location. I sat there for the longest time listening to the water going over the near-by dam, smelling the flowers all around me, and feeling the sun warm on my skin. With a smile in my heart I replayed in my mind all the times I’d brought Don and his wheelchair to that river side park---the outdoor concerts, the art shows and near-by farmer’s market or to just watch the fly fisherman standing in the water on the down side of the dam. I did good, taking care of him, gave him a good quality of life despite his disabilities.

In a few days it will be exactly five months since Don’s passing, one month short of the supposed half way point in the mourning process. Life goes on. I am going on one foot in front of the other, one dog walk after another and one e-Bay sale after another. Levi still tells me he wants a puppy to “replace Don”---his words, not mine---and I keep telling him he has to wait until our year of mourning is up to see if he still feels the same way then. In the meantime I think I’ll start closing the bathroom door in the mornings.  ©