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Spooker Pup was a nervous little guy who could never be caught with his eyes shut. In the 14 years that he was with us, family members tried numerous times to sneak up on him, trying to catch him with his eyes closed but instead, he would be found staring at us with a look of, "Again? Won't you people ever give it up??" Several years before moving to Sebastopol, Manny and I had decided that we wanted a dog, specifically a Miniature German Schnauzer because I had seen one and fell in love with not only the personality traits of the breed, but with their appealing little bearded faces. By searching the pet columns in the newspapers, we found a breeder about 120 miles away. We didn't have a clue about checking out breeder's credentials or even know that it was an important first step, so off we went to acquire a puppy, trusting in humankind and naive to the ghastly world of puppy mill dog breeders. Arriving at a very large barn-like structure in San Jose, CA, we were greeted by a man who must have "seen us coming". He told us "There's only one Schnauzer puppy remaining". With that curt remark, he turned and disappeared into the depths of the building to fetch the "last remaining puppy". When the man returned, he was carrying a salt and pepper-colored ball of fur that had a very black nose and two frightened eyes peeking at us. The man placed the furball on the floor and it immediately slid into a prone position with all four legs sticking straight out. Picking up the puppy and rearranging it's feet, the man tried once again to have the puppy stand, only to have it slide again into a prone position, legs splayed awkwardly, with his little chin resting on the cold concrete floor. "He's a little frightened", said the man. Manny said, "He sure looks spooked, to me".
Growing into adulthood, Spooker was a little taller than normal for a mini Schnauzer, but he was none-the-less the pet for us. We loved him at first sight and still think of him today with extreme fondness. The strongest memory I have of Spooker's life is not one that some people are comfortable with (or would even believe), but it demonstrated to me the bond that can develop between a human and an animal. What I am about to tell you is exactly the way it happened, and even after all the years that have passed, I can still feel the emotion and see in my mind, the events as they occured and that memory will stay with me forever. The years took their toll on Spooker as pain and weakness crept in. His once muscular hips lost their firmness, becoming almost emaciated and when he tried to run, his back legs moved at the same time in sort of a hopping motion with one leg almost useless and held in close to his body. While standing, he swayed slightly back and forth in an effort to keep his balance, while his weakened hips strained to hold him up. One day while out in the field, Spook fell into a very shallow hole and was struggling to get out; it was a hole that just a few years earlier, wouldn't have caused him any problems. After that incident, I was ever on the alert to watch over him when he was outside to "do his business". Returning home from work one day, I saw Manny puttering around in the shed at the entrance to our field. I waved to him and he called out, asking me if I wanted to go to town for dinner (which was an unusual invitation for mid-week). Not thinking anything of it at the time, I declined because I was tired and just wanted to get in the house and relax with a cup of coffee. Entering the house, all seemed too quiet. I called, "Spooker?" He didn't come to greet me with his odd little swaying, foot-dragging walk. I called again more loudly, but still no Spooker. My first thought was that he had fallen and was stuck someplace in another part of the house. I kept calling his name while searching all the rooms. I went outside, calling to Manny, "Is Spooker down at the shed with you?". I didn't hear Manny's answer, so I went out into the field, shouting over and over for my Spooker Pup. Because I had reached a semi-hysterical state, worried that my old dog was lost and hurting and that I wouldn't be able to find him, I didn't realize at the time that Manny was acting strange. He wasn't joining me in the search; instead, he remained down at the shed, his back turned as if he didn't hear me calling for our dog. I ran back into the house, and stood in the middle of the living room shouting, "SPOOKER, WHERE ARE YOU"???? Suddenly, out of the kitchen ran my Spooker! I was SO relieved and started to bend down to grab him up and hold him, saying, "There you are, my Spooker Pup!" He was like a teenager again, running fast, back legs working in perfect rhythm, his head up, mouth open in his funny little smile, his eyes focused on mine! He wasn't slipping on the linoleum floor as he would normally do in his fraility, and as he ran out of the kitchen, around the corner of the room divider to the dining room area, he had a bright golden light around him! .. and then... then he just disappeared.. gone.. I stood there a moment, trying to take in what had just happened, but then suddenly, I knew. I turned and fled out the front door, running down to the shed to confront Manny. I screamed at him, "WHERE'S MY DOG??" My husband had tears in his eyes as he softly said, "I took him to the Vet, and ....."
Manny said that he just couldn't tell me that he had taken it upon himself that morning to have Spooker "put to sleep" because of Spook's pain and ailments. In his loving way, Manny wanted to protect me from the anguish of being the one to have to tell the Vet that it "was time". Crying, I told Manny that because of my intensity of worry, Spooker had come back for just a moment to tell me good bye and that he was healthy once again, full of vim and vigor, and to let me know that he was now okay. What did I learn from that experience? It created in me a new awareness of life and death.. that even though our bodies may wear out, be filled with aches and pains, there will come a day with freedom from care. We will be with all of our loved ones, human AND animal companions, somewhere on the other side of this time that we now call "life". Resource by Willow Miranda, WilloWorld
- Wonderful Poetry, definitely worth a visit. |
In the 70's, life was much quieter
here in the country just outside the city limits of Sebastopol, a small
town north of San Francisco. Our house was newly built and was situated
in a former pear orchard/cow pasture; there were only six baby Mulberry
trees, one very old and lonely pear tree and a winding dirt driveway.
Moving into our new home with my husband, Manny and I, were two Miniature
German Schnauzers, Spooker Pup (male), and Oly (female). They were the
extent of our animal family. 
The
man tried once more to more to place the puppy in a standing position,
only to have the little guy collapse again. This was too much for me.
I grabbed the puppy and held him close, telling him he was such a sweetie,
and asking him if he wanted to go home with us. The puppy melted into
my arms. Manny scratched the doggie's head and talked to him. It only
took a minute or two until we told the man that we would take the puppy..
and I said that his name would be "Spook". The car ride home was uneventful
for little Spookie, with no tummy upset, no whining.. just a pleasant
trip to "home". Within a matter of days, Spook was a dedicated family
member, fun-loving and extremely playful. As I have said over the years
about all our pets, he was just waiting for us to find him. 
"I
KNOW he's gone, because I just saw him in the house, RUNNING, with a
BRIGHT GOLDEN LIGHT around him. WHY didn't you tell me??"