THE TROUBLE WITH PUPPIES

my parents have a dog. his name is monty. 

monty came into our lives in the summer of 2003. brandon and i were engaged and planning a wedding, and then one day my dad came home with this puppy. he was adorable. his ears were all floppy, he was incredibly fluffy, but also he had a terrible skin condition. my parents called the kennel for advice a few days in and the kennel said, well this other one doesn't have a skin condition, so let's trade? they were much better equipped to care for a dog with special skin needs, and so. that is the story of monty one.

but here is the story of monty two; full name montague shannon macduff, because proper scottish dogs deserve a proper scottish name. 

monty two is a west highland white terrier, commonly called a westie for short. they are loyal companions and fierce hunters, and fluffy as the day is long. monty is no exception. though he was always a little scrawny, he was as proud as could be, ready to take up a tussle at any moment, and above all, always ready to jump on your lap the minute you sat on the couch.

because he was coming in just as i was going out, we joked that he was my replacement. and he was, in a lot of ways. monty was never just a dog. he's come along on every road trip and family reunion. he sits on my dad's lap while my dad takes conference calls in the office at home as if the operation couldn't go on without him.

when amanda graduated they replaced her with a second puppy, named mattie. she died in a really tragic accident, so then my parents wised up the next time around and replaced alex with a vintage stuffed goose, who lives on the fireplace mantle. this year when blake graduated from high school, they found themselves a nice antique four-pronged deer. he is currently mounted in the entry way.

when monty was around a year old or so, he was hit by a car. we are assuming it was a car, but actually we still don't know what happened. all we know is that one day my mom let monty out for a potty in the back yard, and then he mysteriously turned up a few hours later, completely covered in blood, with half of his face smashed in. he was rushed to the animal hospital and after a few surgeries to try and save his eye (they couldn't), he came home in need of a lot of TLC. my dad brought that puppy back to life. he fed him three times a day from a syringe and put eye drops in his eyes and carried him outside to carefully prop him up so he could use the restroom like a proper gentleman. (luckily he works from home!) it was touch and go there for a while, but thanks to my dad he made a full recovery. though for a long time monty didn't have much feeling or muscle control in his jaw, so whenever he'd eat, half of his food would slosh down the side of his face, and whenever he'd walk around his teeth would chatter. it kind of made a k-k-k-k-k-k-k sound. 

from then on he was known as one-eyed monty. my parents bought him an eye patch once, so then he was pirate monty.

this dog has not had an easy go of it, and somehow he takes beating after beating and always bounces back. once, when he was out on a walk, a neighborhood dog pushed through a loose slat in the fence, bit monty square on the nose, then pulled him through to the yard with his teeth. add that one to his tab at the vet. but the experience didn't scare monty a lick. to this day when he walks past that fence, he barks his brains off. 

monty has always had horrible seasonal allergies. he barely gets through a quarter of the year without a terrible show of snarfing and sneezing. these sneezes are huge. they shake his whole body head to tail and startle anyone in a twenty-foot radius. "bless you!" someone will always exclaim. not to mention his digestive issues. oh dear. and then one day a few years back, he up and went blind. occasionally he'd softly bump his head into a wall and we'd have to stifle our giggles. but that dog kept on trucking. 

he owes this to my dad. my dad is his reason for living, and the two of them are inseparable. sometimes i think there must be a monty-shaped indent on my dad's legs from all these years of lap sitting. where my dad goes, there goes monty. they even share the man chair in the living room, where they watch old cowboy movies or read some big old biography about some important old person. sometimes monty will switch it up and lay just behind my dad's head along the top of the arm chair. in his other life i'm convinced monty was an afghan. or perhaps a throw pillow.  

monty has been a fantastic uncle, to all of my babies. first to peter pan. he loved peter pan. (he sort of only tolerated barnaby macduff.) when i brought huck home to meet his uncle monty for the first time, he was just as gentle and calm as could be. he liked to snuggle up beside us whenever we'd sit down to nurse. he's always known his place in the family, he is like a brother to us. and when we're face timing with guapo and grandma jumie and monty hears our voices, he gets so so excited. he is just like my dad, he loves it best when all of his family is around him.

puppies are a certain kind of heart break, i know that truth intimately. we love them like our children, though it isn't a fair comparison. when we bring babies into our family, we have every reason to believe that they will survive us. we plan for eighteen years plus the rest of our lives to love them, and barring illness or accidents, we do. but puppies won't stay for long. ten years, fifteen at most. we bring these fur babies into our lives anyway, knowing full well that inevitably, they have to break our hearts. we willingly set ourselves up for this great, huge loss. we know the hole they are going to leave behind when they go. we know that puppies will always have to leave us too soon.

monty is ten years old now, and it was recently discovered that he is in kidney failure. the vet gave him a year or so before he would become too uncomfortable, but while my parents were away the last few weeks and he was staying with a family friend, he took a turn for the worse. he was checked into the puppy hospital for the last of my parents time in new york, where he got all the care the world could offer. my dad tried to schedule an earlier flight home to be with him, but airlines are just the worst. they got home saturday night and he was still hanging on. so they brought him home from the hospital to his favorite spot on the couch to spend a few quiet days with him before it was time to go.

heaven has a special place for our dogs, i just know it. and monty has been one of god's finest. and oh how my heart breaks for my dad, who will tell you if you ask that he's just fine and it's only a dog, but really i know that he is hurting. he will grieve this loss deeply. since he's been home monty has become weaker and weaker. bless his sweet heart, but he is ready to go. i'm just so glad that he was able to hold on long enough for my dad to be there with him. 

they will be bringing monty to the vet tonight to say their final goodbyes. 8pm pacific time. i so wish i could be there. i would love to pet that sweet, fractured little head of his and stroke those scruffy ears, and whisper to him, "monty, you are a good dog." 

i think that's all a dog ever hopes to hear. 

my thoughts and prayers are with my parents tonight as they face the hard task of letting him go. i am just heart sick for them, and so glad to have had the pleasure of knowing such a splendid little dude. monty is going to take heaven by storm tonight, both eyes intact, running as fast as could be and seeing everything there is to be seen. 

you're a good dog, monty. thanks for being such a pal.