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Now the story of the dog my ex-husband and I owned together for 18 months before he (the ex) ended our marriage.
When Bob and I first got Ozzie (Sept. 2011) he was about three years old and full of puppyish energy. One day Ozzie and I were in an enclosed park that was two blocks from our building, so I let him off his leash. I didn’t know the soil had eroded in one corner so there was a gap between the ground and the iron gate fencing.
He found the hole and took off. I panicked and went after him, but he’d been running, so I didn’t have a chance. After 30 minutes or so I got a call from Bob. A man had found Ozzie and called the number on the dog ID tag. Bob had directed him to our apartment, but I wasn’t there, so I hurried over.
He was a very neighborly Black man and he had Ozzie’s collar attached to his own belt which he’d taken off his pants. He told me Ozzie had been on a street near our apartment, but it was one with heavy foot traffic. Because Ozzie was an energetic, black pit bull mix people were afraid and had started throwing things at him. This man told me he’d stepped in and said, “Hey, stop it! This is someone’s pet.” He alone had recognized that Ozzie was perfectly friendly, so he grabbed him and called Bob’s number.
After I thanked him many times, I asked him to wait while I took Ozzie inside (damn dog). I was SO grateful that I came back with all the cash in my purse: $60. The man was happy, I was relieved and I imagine the dog enjoyed his run. Many times I wished we’d never gotten him and that was definitely one of them.
As much exasperation, exhaustion and pain as that dog has caused me, I very much regret to write that Ozzie is now dying. He’s been weakening for over a year and stopped eating a week ago. Tomorrow (Wednesday) afternoon Bob is taking him to the vet to be put down.
Ozzie was “a runner” as they called him when we first got him. He was also a jumper and could reach shelves in our apartment that astonished me. We’ve never known what breeds he is; he looks like a pit bull mixed with Dog-knows-what. Ozzie looks like he might have labrador retriever in him, but he just gazes after anything you throw for him. He also has no hunting instinct as we can see from his indifference to mice and insects in the house. He used to pull at the leash for cats and racoons, but that didn’t last long. Neither has he shown much interest in toys and he doesn’t have any herding tendencies. Finally, Ozzie wouldn’t do well as a guard dog because he dislikes being outside. He needs to be where the humans are.
What is he good for? Well, Ozzie hasn’t needed retrieving, hunting, herding or guarding skills because we really just got him to be Bob’s companion and for that Ozzie has been perfect. From the beginning he was capable of giving and receiving any amount of affection. In that way he has earned his keep.
I was never a dog person, so when Bob ended our marriage in 2013 I was glad he kept the dog. My role in Ozzie’s life has been small, but I have had him at my apartment many times over the past two years. I dog sit sometimes so he’s not so alone (Bob works long restaurant hours).
In fact, I’m visiting Ozzie as I blog this, while Bob’s at work, but I need to leave soon. At the moment Ozzie lays on his dog bed, splayed and relaxed as if asleep but with his eyes open. He stares at I-don’t-know-what. Can he see where he’s going?
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| June 21, 2020 |
I don’t know how upset Bob is about losing his best friend because Bob doesn’t share those emotions. All I can do is try to be there for him after Ozzie is gone. I offered to go with them to the vet tomorrow, but Bob declined.
Ozzie is the closest I’ve gotten to having a dog and I have had some good feelings for him. For those who’ve been reading this blog since 2011, you know my experiences with him have been good AND bad, but I’m still very sad to see him dying. Since the weekend, I’ve been grieving his death and doing a lot of crying. A LOT of crying. Jesus, is this really just about a dog?
No, it isn’t. I’m also grieving the end of what Ozzie represents to me. I’m mourning all over again the failure of the marriage and the broken household. Bob and I believed getting married meant we’d never be alone again. But in 2013 the marriage was over and I moved out and we returned to solitary lives, after just an eight-year interruption. Ozzie’s death reminds me of the things in my life that went completely wrong. It reminds me of how completely off track my personal life has become and how I just haven’t been able to fix it.
I think Ozzie had a very good life for a shelter dog. He certainly couldn’t have been more loved by Bob who completely spoiled him after I moved out. But I hope to never have a pet again. Millions of happy pet owners notwithstanding, for me a dog is a lot of stress and labor for not nearly a big enough payoff.
At the age of 53 I’m finally, for the first time ever, feeling grief over the end of a life. So this is why so many people dislike death.
NOTE: Ozzie died on Wednesday, June 24, 2020 and I actually felt relief and the end of my worry after he was gone. He was a good dog as they all are, I’ve learned.