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Dexter Maximillian

11.04.01 ~ 02.17.14

Pics above: top left, July 2006, Cammie’s birthday; bottom right, April 2013, Old Man, turned grey {I would post pics of his early days but I’m not ready to dig those up yet.}

Days like this aren’t usually in the forefront of the mind when you first bring a dog home. December of 2001 I had many thoughts not the least of which was how in the round world am “I” going to train this dog?

You should know up front that I am not much of an animal person. I didn’t grow up with lots of pets. We had a Pekingese named Prissy when I was little. I remember her well and I loved her. But aside from the number of pets in my life, God simply did not make me a person that would be drawn to animals. This is difficult for some people to understand. Please see my Maker about it.

My cousin the horse lover trains and races horses. I spent many summers with her in Pensacola and I loved every bit of it including the horses. {But not the horse poop.} What some naturally born animal lovers don’t understand about us not naturally born animal lovers is that it’s not that we don’t love animals. Perhaps just that we aren’t naturally inclined to be drawn to them.

Dexter was really Cammie’s and Courtney’s dog. Cammie found the litter of puppies for sale in the paper. The girls willingly spent their Christmas money and Joe and I drove to Albany. All I knew was those puppies looked awfully needy. Joe picked Dexter by the size of his paws. How was I supposed to know this indicated how large he would grow?

How was I supposed to know how large he would grow in my heart?

I didn’t think about a dog’s life expectancy compared to their size back then. This puppy was going to spend the better part of his days with me. Oh! And the children I would Nanny throughout the years. I can potty train a toddler like nobody’s business. I knew nothing about training a puppy. Those early days were torture, I tell you! I’m sure they weren’t easy on Dexter either. But I was determined. I’ve said in recent years that had I known now what I knew then I might’ve trained Dexter to have his own little dog yard to use. All the A-type animal people are saying, “YES, and AMEN!” All the rest of you are shaking your heads.

I successfully trained Dexter in spite of the fact that I was the least of the animal people in my then four-person family. Dexter grew and in spite of my lack of understanding for a large dog being primarily indoors, he spent a great deal of his days inside. And always, he slept in our master bedroom. It wasn’t long before I realized what those big paws meant. The children that have come and gone in our home throughout the years have enjoyed the equivalent of free pony rides.

We lost Dexter once. Sorta’. At our old house we had an iron gate. It wasn’t automatic unless you count the girls jumping out of the vehicles to open or shut it. Often when Joe was due to arrive home for work, I would have one of the girls put Dexter inside and go open the gate. On one particular Friday when we had plans to go to Joe’s brother’s for a crawfish boil, I did just that. Only I had not much earlier asked one of the girls to feed Dexter. Somehow in my haste to have us ready to roll when Joe came in, I realized that the gate was open and I had forgotten about Dexter. I ran outside to find an empty backyard. Panic quickly set in and I sent the girls on a hunt in the neighborhood. We must’ve screamed Dexter’s name to the top of our lungs from our front yard ten or thirty times. Neighborhood kids were on the lookout. I hoped against all hope that he would return before Joe. That wasn’t looking good so I called Joe and prepared him. He said not a word when he arrived home and started his own hunt. I jumped in the truck with him and we took to the streets adjacent to our neighborhood, Joe tight jawed. “What a lousy dog person I am,” I thought. Just when we turned back into our neighborhood, Cammie called. I could hardly make out what she was saying. She must’ve been bawling, so I thought, and I clutched my chest, fearing the news.

“What’s wrong?!? Did you find him?” I asked not sure I wanted the answer.

Laughter. Hysterical laughter from the other end of the phone. She was laughing? “YES! He was in your room!!!”

Well. That explains it. The door was shut to my bedroom and he was in there all along. Yep. Right where he was supposed to be. Only probably standing next to the door because he heard us yelling his name like crazy people. Bless our hearts. We called Joe’s brother to tell him we found him and were on our way. He asked where he was. “Well. I’m a little embarrassed,” I told him.

“He was in the house wasn’t he?” he asked. Bingo! {Well, that’s another dog. But yes. Yes, he was.}

Throughout the past 12 1/2 years, Dexter has spent more time with me than any other family member. Me. The one who struggled to maintain composure once we’d moved to our current home when I was in the last trimester of my pregnancy with Sophie. Our family was growing. My belly was growing and Dexter insisted on sprawling out right smack in front of the french doors leading to our master bathroom. Half awake, I’d shove my eyemask on my forehead, squinting to see my way to the bathroom eight or eighty times each night, only to nearly trip my pregnant self over Dexter’s massive frame. If my stumbling upon him wasn’t enough to scare him back to his dog bed, my fussing was.

I’d like to say he learned quickly. But up until a couple months ago, he still blocked the way to the bathroom door. I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose. And I don’t care what Joe says, I’m telling you that he rolled his eyes at me all the time.

Dexter has been part of Sophie’s life since the day she was born. I’ll never forget preparing him when we came in with her. He pouted a bit at first. But it wasn’t long before that protective nature took over. At times like this I wish I had a recording of Sophie making the sound of a dog barking when she was not even two years old. It’s sure to be unlike anything you’ve ever heard. Just place your teeth over your lower lip, suck in air, jerk your head backward, and say, “FFFFTTTTT, FFFTTTT!!!” Yes, a dog bark exactly!!!

The past twelve plus years with Dexter, for me, haven’t been like many of the stories I’ve heard. I haven’t been the one to compare the love of our dog to the love of people, or lack thereof. I haven’t compared him to people who may have hurt me or my family. I suppose I understand that many people do. Because the pain inflicted by others can be unbearable. But for me, Dexter wasn’t compared to other animals because I’d had very few of them. He wasn’t compared to people because I could separate the love of people from the love of animals. But perhaps because of all of these things I can truly say that I understand the unconditional love of a dog. I have known it. He loved me in spite of my animal inabilities. He loved all of us. But he loved me.

He truly was a good dog. He filled the hearts of many who’ve known him. And now I am more aware than ever of just how much he filled mine.

There is a huge empty spot on the rug beside my bed. This is where he stayed most of the past two months. It’s a little ironic to me. There’s still so much I don’t understand about animals. But I know this: Dexter was more than our dog. He was part of our family. I hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t anticipated it. And I never thought I’d say this. But he really was my friend.

The kind that sometimes rolled his eyes at me.

My nephew Jordon once said, “I wish I were a dog so I could be naked and run free.”

Yes. This is what dogs do, right? Dexter no longer could. The past several months have given me great insight. Prolonging the life of an animal is such a complex thing. The days of pain meds and prayer have taught me much. Letting go is hard. It would be much easier, so I’ve thought, for the LORD to just let Dexter pass in his sleep. Or heal him. Perhaps the way in which things have unfolded are most difficult for me to fathom. I don’t understand it. But I know that God is good. He gave us Dexter. And He’s taught me more than I ever could’ve imagined through him. One day I’ll find out why He created me without this animal instinct and yet chose to teach me through one.

I’ll miss you, Dexter. Thank you just doesn’t seem enough. But thank you for the many memories.

I love you.