Then there was Sadie the 1st--old faithful yellow lab. Loved Sadie. We had her when we lived in Wisconsin, with the woods and the Yellow River in our back yard. Sadie had the run of the land--never on a leash or anything like that. Didn't need it out there in the middle of nowhere. And it was quite humorous when she decided to corner a skunk into our garage--enough said about that adventure. It smelled forever.
I can't forget about Pepper--although I would like to. I never liked Pepper. She was this black poodle, who was a pain in the ass. Not a fan. But there was that one day, when I was hating on my sisters, and good ole' Pepper decided to crap in their bed. Pepper was pretty smart too because she then pulled the covers over her poo. It wasn't discovered until they jumped on in and the brown covered their toes. Their screams were hilarious! I grew a new respect for Pepper that day, and will admit I was sad when she became sick and had to be put down. That was a sad drive to Marshfield in our brown paneled station wagon. Especially since the vet's office was on Pepper Street--something we hadn't noticed until that day. Funny the things I remember.
When I moved out to Colorado in my early 20s, I went to the Denver Dumb Friends League and fell in love with a little dog. She was a mutt, and I named her Sadie the 2nd. What a pain in the ass she was. Mostly because I had no real idea on how to train a dog. She destroyed furniture, killed birds--was just a mess. Nothing like her namesake, so eventually she had to go.
And then there was the day I was at the Aurora Mall, and saw this cute little Brittany. My parents had one named KoKo--short for Kokopelli--and thought they'd make great friends. After the purchase I named her Antigone Sophocles, calling her Tiggy for short. Oh my good god almighty. Tiggy was the most horrific animal ever. She barked non-stop, ate my shoes, thought throw pillows were her toys to destroy. I would come home to something new ruined every single day. I'd have to go to work with one shoe donning bite marks. She was Satan. So like any good daughter, I gifted Tiggy to my parents. She showed up on their front porch one evening, with me singing her praises. And then the phone calls began. They threatened to give her back to me on a daily basis. I think the turning point for them was when Tiggy decided to eat their dry wall--literally began chewing off the walls of their home. Yeah, not good. She had to go.
I loved Buddy Love. He was a 100 pound chocolate lab who loved me. He was protective and sweet. He thought he was a lap dog--sitting on my lap as though he were one of the kids. But he was lonely, so we went on back and found Sissy--another chocolate lab mix, who was cute and filled with energy. Too much energy, turns out, and was a nightmare to contend with. After building a dog run for the two of them, Sissy decided to break out. She had terrible separation anxiety, along with claustrophobia, and we were afraid she'd eventually hurt herself. The dog literally broke through a steel locked fence. Sissy needed the farm life, where she could run free. We found her a new owner that owned property--no enclosed space for her. Buddy was still in need of a partner and a friend of mine had a yellow lab that was having puppies. So the kids and I went and picked one out. I named him Lewey (after Louis Vuitton--I was in that stage with the bags), and he became mine. There was the time when Lewey, who was a blonde in every sense of the word, decided to jump out of a speeding car to try to catch a rabbit. Luckily he didn't get too severely hurt, although the poor thing was quite banged up. Buddy and Lewey were inseparable, and with the divorce even though it broke my heart, I couldn't separate them. The kids were upset, but it wouldn't be fair. These dogs loved each other and needed to be together. Besides, they were both HUGE and wouldn't be okay in apartment living.