PJ's Planet

Reebok, my sister's dog, died Friday at the age of 12-and-a-half. Plagued with cataracts and hip dysplasia, he hadn't been doing too well for the last few months. The family took him to the coastal town of Rockport late last week and noticed his erratic pacing and quivering. They held him close, and quietly -- with just a tremble and a sigh -- he passed away, looking out at the water he loved.

At the family birthday dinner last weekend (my birthday was Saturday, Mom's was Sunday), we all shared happy memories of a dog who "got personality":

• He was a purebred yellow lab, but you'd never know it to look at him. He was bigger and beefier than most labs, with a massive, pit-bull-like head. During Reebok's early digging stages, my brother-in-law installed some electric fencing around his property, so the puppy wouldn't dig his way out of the yard. No such luck. Reebok thought the current vibration from the fence was a delightful massage.
• He reduced a three-piece wood patio set to slivers and sawdust. Not surprising, really; his daddy's favorite toy was a two-by-four.
• My mother once caught Reebok gnawing on one of my nephew's tennis balls. She put the ball back on the dresser. Moments later, she caught Reebok in the act again. And again, the ball went back on the dresser. Not swayed in the least, Reebok got the ball again. But this time, when Mom put the ball back, she noticed that Reebok left a baseball on the dresser in its place. Now that's a dog with personality.

# posted by Peggy @ 5:24 PM