For the Love of Callie
and the hard choice I made for her happiness.
In June of 2017, I adopted this beautiful girl named Callie.
Here she is on February 4th, 2019 on the same chair.
I’ve had big dogs before, but I was a lot younger. Also, I had no idea how big and strong yellow labs were. I am 65 years old. I don’t know what I was thinking. Actually I wasn’t thinking at all. I thought we’d walk every day. I tried to walk her twice and both times she dragged me around like a rag doll. I don’t have a fenced back yard so I had to set up a lead between two old laundry poles and attached a lead to that so she had room to run. It was a sorry substitute for a fenced-in yard. So then I thought I’d take her to a dog park so she could run and play. She couldn’t get in the car and I lifted her up and in — all 70 pounds of her. My back wasn’t the same for over a week.
I couldn’t turn my back on her in the kitchen or she’d have whatever I was making eaten when I turned back. One day, I had a bowl with spaghetti sauce on the counter and left the room briefly and when I came back, she was lapping it up with her tongue. I thought, oh well, it’s going to get cooked and I used it anyway.
We shared her first snow. She chased squirrels and rabbits and birds. I told her, “Callie, you’re never going to catch one of those bunnies!” She’d race through the apartment (all three rooms) from her chair in the living room to her crate in the kitchen and back again, and again, and again... I would pretend to chase her. She loved that game. And there was nothing she liked better than rawhide bones. A bone would occupy her for hours, sometimes days.
She always had to have something in her mouth and loved stuffed bears. First she’d eat the mouth, then the eyes, then she’d whip her head from side to side and then tear a hole and rip out the stuffing. See evidence below.
Even after she was spayed and had the cone, she still had a bear in her mouth. For two weeks, I had to keep her from running and jumping. I almost lost my mind.
She was my pre-washer which came in handy since I don’t have a dishwasher. The plates and bowls were so clean afterward, they looked like they’d never been used. She went crazy over pizza crusts. And every night she’s stand at attention waiting for her treat — I’d say, “Wait, wait…take” then she’d gently take the treat out of my hand.
She’d stand on my porch, paws on the railing and she and the next door neighbor’s dog would cry and whine at each other. A true love affair.
She demolished my book The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. She apparently doesn’t like Nazis. I’m with her.
Every day, she would give me the look. Mommy, when are we going to play? when are we going outside? when are we going to have some fun? when can I go outside and run like I do in my dreams?
My cat Leo, who is 16, hated her. She wanted to play with him and never gave up trying even when she got two claws embedded in her face. Leo would hide in the bedroom and when she walked by he’d do the sneak attack. I refereed all day long every day.
I had plans to move to a small house with a fenced-in yard and then I had a financial setback. That changed everything.
I made the hard decision. I asked a few dog loving friends if they knew anyone who would want a dog. I made it clear that the adopter had to have a fenced yard and another dog or kids so she’d be able to get all that energy out and have fun.
I found the perfect young couple who had a dog about the same age as Callie. We met at my apartment and then I packed up all her toys, food, bowls, stuffed animals, and treats. They left with four bags of stuff. Callie happily walked out my back door and into their SUV.
I cried for three weeks every single day. I still cry when I see something that reminds me of her. I’m crying now as I write this story.
Her new owners have been great, sending me updates and pictures for the last month. Here she is with her new doggie friend. And, of course, she has a bear in her mouth.
Sometimes I think I hear the tap tap of her nails on the hardwood floor or the sounds she’d make when she was happy.
Two weeks ago, I found one of her dead bears in a corner of my bedroom. I put it on my dresser next to Pete’s ashes. Pete, my kitty, died at 17 about two years ago. My pets are my children. Over the years, I’ve lost so many children. It’s a hard thing to put your pet’s needs above your own whether it’s helping them over the rainbow bridge, or in this case, finding Callie the home she needed.
My heart felt like it broke in half the day she left. Callie made me laugh everyday. She is the sweetest, happiest dog I’ve ever met. Nothing made her happier than a good belly rub. She is a great big bundle of joy. Now she’s in the right home with the right people. She will always be in my heart.
Oh, and Leo asked me to tell you he’s very happy now.