I wish I didn't have to share this story with you. As much as it hurts to talk about it, I need to tell you what happened a week ago. We lost a member of our family last week. It was very sudden and it took a while to get over the shock. Although, it took me a week to write this post and I feel that it has helped me get through this very sad moment. Here is the story of Malcolm Reynolds, our beloved doberman pinscher.
It was a sunny morning on January 12, 2012. The Hub called me and said, "I just got a call from my buddy at Gwinnett Animal Control. A black and tan male doberman pinscher just came in. He was an 'owner drop off.' They think he's about 2 years old. You need to get over there and look at him. I want him." At the time, our rescue pit bull, Bailey Grace, was 7 months old. She was full of puppy energy and in a major chewing phase. Couple that with the energy of our (then) 2 year old daughter, B, and you've got a lot of running around and broken things in the house. It took a second for me to comprehend what he was telling me to do. Did he just tell me to pick up another dog?! The Hub never calls me with urgent requests. The Hub likes to mull things over. I'm the urgent one. But, The Hub has always wanted a doberman for as long as I could remember. When we started dating, 14 years ago, he was a vet tech at our local animal clinic. He loved working with the dobermans. He took pictures of each one when they would come in for a check-up. He knew each one by name. We have doberman mugs, stuffed animal toys, knickknacks all over the house. The Hub wanted a doberman and there was one waiting for him at the pound. I told him I would check the pup out and let him know what I thought.
How's that for role reversal?
Three hours later, I drove Malcolm Reynolds home. He calmly sat in the front seat of our little Saturn Coupe and would casually glance out the passenger side window. His head brushed the roof of the car and he looked like a giant next to me. I was a little nervous. He appeared to be very gentle and calm, but in the back of my mind, I half expected him to lean down and tear off my face. I didn't know this dog. I was used to silly little dogs that try to knock you down and assault you with their tongues. Malcolm did not do that. He didn't even pant or wag his little stub for a tail. He didn't sniff or question what was happening or where he was going. He just sat there in the seat while B shouted from her car seat, "He's so big, mama! His ears are pointy, mama!" I just remember looking into his little brown eyes and saying, "You're coming home with us, buddy. I hope that's okay." He squinted and his long pointy ears went back a little. Perhaps that meant, "Okay."
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| Malcolm Reynolds on Adoption Day 01/12/2012 |
Bailey Grace and Malcolm Reynolds were instant friends. They sniffed each other and ran around the back yard. Bailey would walk under Malcolm, making him look even taller than before.
How is this big dog going to fit in this small house? He's huge! How much will this guy eat? Oh man, that's going to be a lot of dog bombs in the yard. I don't know how this is going to work. My God, he is handsome. I've never seen such a shiny coat. And Bailey seems to like him. He really is a nice dog. He must have had a lot of training in his last home. Okay. We can make this work.
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They're plotting to take over the world.
Or how to get into the dog food bag.
Either way, they're up to something. |
The first few weeks, Malcolm was the golden child. He could do no wrong. We believed his previous owner sent him to obedience school because he followed basic commands. We also believed the original owner spent a lot of money on him. Malcolm's ears were perfectly cropped. He got along with Bailey and they seemed to really balance each other out. Bailey got Malcolm to play and Malcolm mellowed Bailey out. He was so sweet to his "little fur sister." He was sweet to his human family, too. He was the sweetest massive beast to walk this earth, if you ask me. It seemed like the perfect situation. Then strange little habits began to show up. Malcolm was obsessed with The Hub. As soon as he walked through the door, Malcolm would turn circles and pace the house. When The Hub left for work, Malcolm would sulk and lay on the couch for a while.
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| Daddy is at work. I has a sad. |
Whenever The Hub worked on his laptop on the couch, Malcolm would lay down near by. As soon as The Hub would pick up his laptop and put it aside so he could get up, Malcolm would jump up in a panic and run to the back door for a potty break. He would do this every single time. We decided that his first owner worked a lot and Malcolm would only get potty breaks when his first owner took a break from work.
Malcolm would also inhale his food. I've never seen anything like it. I've heard that dogs will continue to eat even after they are physically full. Malcolm was a bottomless pit and he would eat so fast that he would gag every now and then. He was able to eat a super nyla bone in less than three minutes. Those things are supposed to last weeks, even months. Because he would eat so fast, he had the worst gas. Malcolm would rip farts every time he stood up. He would fart in his sleep. He would fart while walking down the hall. There was a constant malodorous cloud hovering around him. A true super fan of potty humor, The Hub would push Malcolm's belly, laugh at the sounds trumpeting from the dog's butt and say, "My dog rules!"
Malcolm would eat things he wasn't supposed to as well. I could write a book just about the things this pup consumed.
You can read about Malcolm's sophisticated palate here:
I Can't Have Nice Things and
I Can't Have Nice Things, Part II. We always feared one day something would get stuck in his digestive tract. Surgery to remove items from a dog's belly is not only expensive, it's pretty intensive. The Hub told me horror stories about all the items retrieved from pooches and the procedure to repair the damaged intestines. I'll spare you the details... just know it's pretty awful. To combat his bad eating habits, I was a cleaning freak. Ne'er a day pass that I didn't collect a sock or a toy left on the floor. Before we would leave the house, I would inspect all the rooms to make sure nothing was within Malcolm's reach. For a large dog with long legs, that included items left on kitchen counter tops and tables. But, Malcolm was a clever dog and much to my chagrin, he would find something extra to eat almost every week. It was his mission. He was an addict and he was playing Russian Roulette with every pair of dirty underwear or stuffed animal he swallowed. I couldn't keep up.
A funny thing happened. Even though Malcolm was driving me insane with his weird and dangerous habits, I fell in love. I came to adore looking into his chocolate brown eyes. I beamed with pride whenever someone would gush over our handsome boy. At night, Malcolm would curl up on the couch next to me. I would prop my feet on him while I watched TV and I could feel his body relax under my legs. I loved his low grunts when he slept. I loved it when he smiled. He would smile when we caught him doing something wrong, but he would show a bigger smile when we praised him for good behavior. Malcolm followed me everywhere. He was my shadow. He was the little lamb to my Mary. He was supposed to be The Hub's dog, but he knew I was his mommy.
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| Is it dinner time yet?? |
On Sunday afternoon, October 28, 2012, Malcolm became sick. He started vomiting all over the house. He would whine a little and look at me and then run to the back door. Malcolm tried so hard to make it outside each time and I could tell he was upset when he got sick on the carpet. He was still drinking water although it didn't stay down as long as we wanted. Monday morning, he stopped eating all together. That is when we knew we were in trouble. The Hub felt around his belly and found a large bulge toward the end of his large intestine. We gave Malcolm a few tablespoons of mineral oil with the hope that maybe whatever was stuck just needed a little lubrication to get moving again. The oil came back up within minutes. My heart sank.
Before Malcolm left for the vet, I looked him in the eyes and said, "We are going to do everything we can do to make you feel better. Okay?" He squinted and his long pointy ears went back a little. Perhaps that meant, "Okay." The Hub took him to the same vet clinic he worked at years before and met with the head veterinarian. Malcolm was becoming septic and he was in a lot of pain. The surgery needed to save him involved removing most of his large intestine. The Hub and I loved Malcolm very much but we knew that he did not deserve the pain he was in nor the pain he would be in if we elected for surgery.
Our beautiful Malcolm Reynolds passed away Monday, October 29, 2012 at 1:30 pm. We buried him under an oak tree in our yard.
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| The girls saying good-bye to Malcolm |
I'm sad that the story ends here. I thought I would have years and years of Malcolm antics to share with you. He was supposed to be in the picture for our Christmas cards this December. Malcolm would have worn a Santa hat. He was always so patient when I wanted a funny picture with props. I was going to make him a Christmas stocking. I wanted to make him a cake for the anniversary of his adoption.
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| I take stupid picture mama if I can has food? |
For the first time in 9 months, my feet are cold. He isn't curled up on his spot on the couch. I don't have this gentle giant snuggling with my feet and making deep grunts. He doesn't poke me with his nose in the morning to wake me up for breakfast. He doesn't get in my way when I walk down the hall. He isn't behind me when I walk through the house. When I open the bathroom door, he's not waiting for me. He's not laying on the floor in the office while I write this. As big as he was, his absence is bigger. This little house feels too big now.
As I mourn the loss of a pet, I come to find that I am also mourning an end of an era. S is in school and B is getting close to starting school. Bailey is out of her puppy phase and is pretty well behaved for the most part. I am nearing the end of my adventure of being a stay at home mom. The one doubt that whispered in my ear whenever I thought about going back to work was always about Malcolm. Would Malcolm be able to be home without me all day? Would he freak out and tear up the house? Will he think I've left him like his last owner left him? How would this affect his separation anxiety? Malcolm was my "last baby." He needed me. My children are becoming more and more self-sufficient. They can do the little things now. But, Malcolm, he really needed me. He needed my love and comfort all the time. He needed my constant attention. But, now that a week has come and gone since he passed, I realize that maybe I needed him more. Maybe he thought he was protecting me. Maybe he knew that I needed someone to watch over us while The Hub was away at work. He made me feel safe. He kept me busy during the quiet and lonely moments that a stay at home mom faces on a regular basis. Malcolm became one of my children and I just lost a very precious member of my family.
Everyday is a little lighter and I'm getting used to just the kids and Bailey running around. Life goes on. The laughter is coming back and the pain is slowly being replaced with funny memories of our dobie. We joke that Malcolm was our scapegoat for the family's farts. Poor guy... I'm sure he was only to blame for 50% of the toots emitted since January. We know that we'll get another doberman one day. I look forward to the day when The Hub calls me with an urgent request to run to the pound. Until then, we'll be fine. I promise.
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You were a good boy, Malcolm. We love you.
(Rescued) 01/12/2012 - 10/29/2012
"I aim to misbehave." -Malcolm Reynolds, Serenity |
At this very moment, B is singing a bluesy song called, "Malcolm Please Come Back."
"There are more squirrels here. I'll give you my pizza, if you come back. I miss your faarrrrttttsssss!"
That pretty much sums up the mourning process for the Lavallee family.
