Tag: puppy

It’s not the guy on the left, and for sure the one on the right. Lillian and Carmen were some of my favorites, but they definitely were not animals.

The one in my brother’s arms is.

Babe.

The Wonder Dog.

Went to the Chicago Humane Society to check out puppies. She was one of a litter of about six or seven, the only one with a bobbed tail. She crawled out to me. That pretty much sealed the deal.

She and I became very close. She followed the rules, learned to sit, stay, shake, smile, speak and even whisper. Nothing was eaten without saying “OK” and Babe did not need a leash. She stayed right next to me no matter the distractions.

Being very protective, she took out a larger dog that went after her and the stroller one of my children was in. The suture bill for the aggressor was well worth it.

She would go on runs with me, play frisbee and loved being in the car. You couldn’t say ‘Walk” around her. You couldn’t even spell it. You had to say “W-L-A-K” or else she would pester you until you acquiesced. Pretty much same with rides in the car. You could fake her out on a trip to the vet until she recognized the street, and curled up in the seat.

She did not beg around the dinner table, staying on the rug by the door. She liked peanuts, and would hold them in her front paws and crack it open, then leave the shell on the floor. If a burger was left over, she would eat around the pickle and leave that there too. Loved bananas, apples and especially oranges. If mom went to the crisper for one, Babe would be there at her feet instantaneously, putting on the puppy face to get a slice.

In college, she would hang out with Herman and Ajax. After house parties, those three would sneak out of the room, find the overflow buckets under the taps in the basement and lap up some beer. When we finally woke up, we would find them sleeping it off in the living room.

Babe just wanted to play catch, with someone or by herself. During the winter trimester, she invented a game of self-toss using frozen puppy turds in the yard. She would run laps with one in her muzzle, flip it in the air, catch it and run another lap.

On more than one occasion, a student passing by would see her playing like this, unaware of the toy she was using. They would bend down, clap their hands and say “Come here!”, so they could throw it to her. She would run over, drop it in their hands and assume the puppy play position, front legs down, butt in the air, tongue hanging out and eyes on fire. As soon as they realized what it was, they couldn’t let go of it fast enough, rub their hands and walk off somewhat irritated. Babe would just pick it up and begin the play anew.

Squirrels were her favorite target of the chase. Driving home one day, Babe in the passenger seat and windows down, she spotted a squirrel running in a yard on the driver’s side. No problem. When we got to the stop sign, she jumped across me, out the window and went after it, until it found a tree. They are lucky she couldn’t climb.

Despite this wild side to her, she lived a long life. To 17. She began to wander off, so we had to make a very difficult decision. When I took her to the park for the last time, she spent her time reminiscing. You could sense that she knew. She was calm when we drove to the vet. And stayed right by me. I held her as she went to puppy heaven.

Babe.

She was THE wonder dog.