In August 2010, my life changed forever. That’s when I met Snoopy, as he was called then.
As cute as they come, but too much of a handful for a home with a tween and a new baby, my boyfriend at the time begged me to let this 10 month old Beagle mix come live with us. I was already a fur mom to a 12 year old diabetic cat called Navin R. Johnson after the movie “The Jerk,” and he required constant monitoring and twice-daily shots of insulin. I was hesitant to get a puppy, let alone an extra challenging one, but ultimately I agreed. He was immediately renamed Doozer after the tiny characters who loved to work on the 80’s show “Fraggle Rock,” because that was hilarious to my boyfriend, and we already knew this dog was the dictionary definition of mischievous. An ironic name for what has turned out to be an iconic dog.
I knew I met my match very early on. We got him a large metal kennel for the daytime when we were at work, containing all the comforts a dog could need while we were away. After less than a week of use, however, I came home one evening to find him perched on the back of the armchair in the window, furiously wagging his tail and smiling at me. Sometime during the day he had collapsed the kennel and broken out. He hadn’t chewed or damaged anything, so the kennel became immediately obsolete. Did I mention he’s as smart as he is difficult?
He’s also a connoisseur of food that isn’t his. A few days after he moved in, he ate my painstakingly prepared steak off the counter. He once ate an entire bag of jalapeno bagels with no ill after-effects. He ate my probiotics (that one proved disastrous for both his pride and our mudroom floor). He ate a bag of baker’s chocolate we didn’t know we had out of the back of a cabinet he opened on his own (a stunt that very nearly killed him). A whole sleeve of Oreos at my brother’s house (my brother still holds a slight grudge). Countless chicken bones he grabs and gobbles before I can get them away. Garbage of all types off the street. Socks and underwear from the laundry basket. This dog will eat anything, and has somehow survived all of it.
In the beginning, he would escape from his tie-down we’d use to put him outside. I’d wander the neighborhood crying and calling for him. I’d be inconsolable, thinking he was gone forever, but inevitably he never went further than the nearest trash can in a neighboring yard.
Just shy of his first birthday, he jumped out of a moving car to chase a squirrel. I slammed on the brakes, and jumped out of the car, terrified and expecting to find a dead or injured dog. What I found was Doozer, uninjured but confused, sitting behind my car and staring at me as if to ask “what the heck just happened?”
You get the point. My dog has never been a cakewalk to keep alive. And yet, here we are, just past his 13th birthday. His face is white, and he moves slowly, but the spirit of mischief is alive and well in Doozer.
He has not been easy or cheap. He frustrates me daily. But, ever since the first time he jumped into my lap and nuzzled his face into my armpit, effectively letting me know in that moment that I was his person, he has been the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve walked countless miles, taken epic road trips, snuggled, played, become close friends with veterinarians, and argued (he’s extremely vocal) our way through over a decade together, and, despite times when I am exasperated to the brink of a breakdown, there is not a second of it I would trade. There is no love like the love from a dog.
I could go on forever about all things Doozer, but for today I want to share the most important lesson he’s taught me. My life would certainly have been easier without him, but had I said no to taking in this adorable trainwreck, I would have missed out on one of the greatest loves I’ve ever known and some of the funniest stories I will ever tell. None of the best things in life come easy, and the struggle, more than anything, makes us appreciate what we have even more.
Sara Middleton is a correspondent and columnist for Mid-America Publishing and resident artist/owner of Studio Sol Gallery & Creative Space in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Email her at sara.studiosol@gmail.com or find her at http://studiosolllc.com
