Marley and Me and Casey
A neighbour dropped off a copy of the book Marley & Me, knowing I would enjoy it since I was a dog owner like her. I have to say it didn't interest me much. I had heard it was terribly sad, about a guy and his dog and the dog died at the end. Since that pretty much summed it up, I didn't feel the need to read it.
Day ten of sitting with my foot up from an injury, I finally gave in and reached for the book. A day later having finished it, I'm sitting at the computer red-eyed and sniffing, trying to put my feelings into words. Between typing and blowing my nose, I'm reaching down to stroke Casey who's sound asleep at my feet.
âCasey' is my Marley. A thirteen-year-old Brittany Spaniel, whom I've always loved, but must admit, have a much deeper appreciation for since reading the book.
"That dog really was psycho!"
Everyone has his or her own reasons for getting a dog. Ours was to help our daughter through a difficult time. She was eight years old and had come through an illness that involved grueling tests and a couple of surgeries. Although it was behind her, the trauma she experienced took its toll. She was so fearful of getting sick again, she developed a fear of germs. She began to scrub her hands continually and clean her room incessantly. Everything had to be in its' place before she could fall asleep each night. I watched the behaviour worsen and when nothing the doctors recommended seemed to help, I knew I had to do something.
"Let's get her a dog." I suggested to my husband. "It would give her something to love and focus on other than germs." "I think it could work."
He recalled how attached she had become to Charlie, a crayfish she had adopted at the cottage, and how distraught she was the day I opened the porch door and sent him flying in his bucket, only to fall and disappear between the cracks of the deck.
"Anyone who could care so much for a crayfish, would love a dog, " my husband agreed. The hunt was on for a puppy!
My husband and daughter went to see a Brittany Spaniel that was up for adoption. We agreed they would take a look and come home and discuss it before any decision was made.
So much for that! The decision had been made. I looked out the window later to see them pulling into the driveway, a white tail wagging in the back seat.
âCasey, ' whom they named after the restaurant they had lunch in, was adorable! She had big brown eyes, a white coat with orange spots, and big floppy ears.
When they first saw her, she came walking out from under a truck in the yard with a high-heeled shoe in her mouth and grease marks on her face. They couldn't say no. They fell in love with the mischievous pup instantly!
And so it began, thirteen years of our own version of Marley & Me.
Casey was a chewer and within no time the fabric along the front of our sofa was gone, along with many pairs of expensive running shoes. She dug up flowerbeds and escaped from the yard on many occasions.
One evening we had gone into the living room after dinner and were deep in discussion when I realized Casey was missing. We found her standing on the middle of the kitchen table with her nose in the butter.
Once my in-laws had brought several couples to our home for a visit. We had just sat down with drinks and appetizers when Casey made an appearance. Everyone smiled at just how sweet she was. Casey walked to the centre of the room and with all eyes on her, puked her guts out. My mother-in-law shook her head having heard our stories about Casey and sympathetically said, "Oh Brianna."
We'll never forget the day my husband was barbequing on the deck with his brother. He came back into the kitchen and his brother followed, having left five steaks on a plate next to the barbeque.
"Who's out there with Casey?" my husband asked. His brother, who never owned a dog, shrugged his shoulders. They both ran to the yard.
Only one steak remained, and it was half buried in the flowerbed. Casey had taken the others out to the corner of the yard where she lay chewing like never before.
Another time my husband had left for a walk with Casey only to return shortly after looking defeated, and covered in mud. He'd been walking through the park and noticed a German Sheppard running loose. He tightened his grip on Casey and yelled at the kids playing there, to get their dog on a leash, but they just ignored him. Suddenly the German Sheppard ran towards them, Casey took off, wrapping the leash around my husband's feet knocking him to the ground. Casey kept running down the hill, which was mud from the rain the day before, my husband got dragged along. The German Sheppard sniffed Casey for a few seconds and took off. Furious, my husband yelled once again at the kids to put their dog on a leash, and this time they hollered back, "It's not our dog."
Casey was not easy to train. We didn't know if we were the problem or if she just had a mind of her own. Although she learned to âshake a paw' and to âsit', she never mastered the âheel' command, (she drags us on walks even in her old age), and when you say, "come, " she looks at you and runs the other way.
There are a few commands she's learned.
"Want to go for a car ride?" gets her attention every time and she runs to the front door.
"Let's go hurry, " gets her out in the backyard to do her business.
"Night, night, " guarantees she'll lie down in her bed and settle in for the night.
Despite her mischievous habits, Casey has become a beloved member of our family. As parents, we feel guilt for never having taken our children to Disney World. With Casey we feel guilty for never having taken her to doggy-day care, for not having made âplay dates' with other dogs and for not dressing her up in cute little coats, which seems to be the rage these days. But we've done our best and in return we are greeted each day with sloppy kisses and a wagging tail. When one of us is sick or sad she lays by our side.
Like a third child Casey has grown up along with our children and now with them gone, she's growing old along with us. As the days pass she wheezes a bit more and moves a little slower.
I've started to break some rules. Always on a strict diet of dog food, Casey is enjoying our new ritual of sitting beside me as I have breakfast, sharing my crusts with her. At dinner my husband scolds me for sneaking her bites of food from the table, and sneakily does the same when he thinks I'm not looking. I work out of my home, so she and I spend every day together. She sits at my feet as I tap away on my computer and every now and then I'll reach down to give her a good rub. I sometimes share my lunch with her and we enjoy a walk most days.
As for the initial reason we got Casey, our daughter was cured within a week. But we've discovered, like John Grogan and his family with Marley, Casey has brought more to our lives than we could have imagined. She's shown us what unconditional love and loyalty is. We each have our own special memories of Casey, and I know we'll hold on to them long after she's gone.
Observations and reflections on life, and the people around me; written as a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour, co-worker, or whatever else anyone needs me to be.
Artist. Writer. Woman. - Struggling to re-appear after years of confinement in a suburban prison.
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