Sheba

This is a story on the installment plan. I have started it years ago and will add to it when I can.

A dog’s dog

I buried my dog today. She lived 15 years and 11 days. That’s not shabby as doggies go.

We never thought she’d get very old. She kind of lived on the edge, as doggies go. Jumped from driving car windows, got bit by a rattle snake, chomped on a porcupine, landed with all 4 in a cactus patch, got her ears stapled together by Cholla cactus. That’s just the stuff I remember off the top of my head. With a little memory jogging I’ll come up with some more stuff. Like the bone that got stuck in her gut, and the tooth she broke on the vets contraption meant to catch dogs. As I said, given time I’ll remember more reasons why she didn’t seem like the type to die peacefully on her bed of old age.

Not that she died on her bed. She never had one. Not that one wasn’t available. She was a DOG. She laid on the floor or in the dirt when camping, like you expect a dog to do. Not that most spoiled dogs lay on anything less than a doggy bed or the couch. Better yet – your bed. Like her buddies the Whites.

But the Whites didn’t show up until late in Sheba’s life. Sheba was my dog’s name. She got that name on highway 60 right after Harcuvar and before Brenda on her way home to California. Her new home.

00709_p_9ae5fxv2w1062 (Copy)Sheba was born on August 14th, 1983 in Phoenix, Arizona to Shena and the neighbors Short Haired Pointer. Something in liver color and brown, we were told. Shena now is another story. A neat freak. She would drag her dog blankets out off the doghouse when she felt they needed washing. Shena was a people lover. Her owners did infant babysitting. And Shena loved all the little kids. Though she didn’t like the pizza delivery man who put his foot in the door. I imagine he had second thoughts, given that Shena was one mean looking Pitbull.

So there it is! Sheba was half Pitbull. A facts we took great pains all her life to avoid mentioning. One vet at some point said, she looked to be having Visla in her. So Visla it was. Visla and something. Who knows. Just a mutt. Uncertain parentage is easy to claim with a dog.

So anyways. Sheba was born in Phoenix, where we first laid eyes on her. We, that is my former husband and I. Ryaan was visiting the Olivers, friends from his youth, while I stayed at his mother’s house. Why I would stay at his mothers instead of fleeing to see anybody at all, I can’t remember. Anyhow. Ryaan returns to tell me about that cuuute puppy he has seen. Did I want to see it? Now, we were strictly cat people. We had four no less. But yes, I wanted to see the puppy. Number one, I subscribe to the theory that one can never have too many animals. Number two, this seemed really dear to Ryaan’s heart.

So we get there. And I immediately fall in love with another puppy. Ryaan held this cute thing with brown eyes and chocolate color fur. I am eyeballing this yellow eyed dog. Well, Ryaan was in the mood for a puppy, I wanted that particular puppy. The rest is history.

This is how we started our love affair. Sheba, Ryaan and I.

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