How Could I Forget About Max?

     Last week I crafted a blog about the dogs that have enlightened my life.  My wife however asked me why I did not include a very special and beautiful huskie dog that we only knew for a very short amount of time.  Allow me to introduce everyone to Max.

     It was New Year's Eve several years ago.  We had a group of friends and family over to the house to celebrate the changing of the calendar.  After partying, cheering and partying a little bit longer, we were out front saying goodbye to the last of our guests.  As we were standing there, an absolutely beautiful creature approached us.  As I'm sure you can guess, it was the afore mentioned husky dog, Max.  Max had a beautiful coat, was very well groomed and was obviously very well taken care of.  He also had something else.  A leash.  A leash that did not have a human counterpart at the other end.  I began hoping that there was not someone passed out in snowbank or ditch close by.

     We figured that this beautiful animal must belong to someone, so checked his tags.  They said that he lived in Brantford, Ontario, Canada.  A good two hour drive from where we stood.  Without any other leads to his owner, I called the number on the tag.  Worst case scenario I will contact someone who knows Max and can contact the person who should have Max.  I got an answering machine and left my name and phone number, and of course, the fact that I had their dog.

     I came up with the plan, without any assistance from alcohol, that I would take Max for a walk and maybe he would instinctively take me back from where he came.  Sounds odd I know, but the other option was to hold onto Max overnight.  I pictured Max at around four n the morning letting out a "You guys are great and all, but I wanna go home.  Aaaaaaa Ewwwww!!!"  So, off for a walk we went.  Just as we started our trek, a police car flew around the corner.  It briefly stopped, but then sped past us.

     Now Max was no help at all.  I don't really blame him, he wasn't from the area after all.  As we aimlessly walked around, I heard a really faint call for "Maaaax."  It was faint and I asked my wife if she heard it too.  She agreed that someone was saying something.  We then heard "Maaaaax." a little louder.  As we turned around, we saw a woman running towards us, again calling out "Maaaax."  Obviously, we had found someone who knew out four legged friend.  Before the lady got to us, the police officer stopped by us and asked if we had found the dog.  We said we had and he drove off.

 

     The lady reached us and could not thank us enough for finding him.  She asked I we lived in the area.  At this point, we were standing directly in front of our house and pointed it out.  After a couple more minutes of thanks, she again asked if we lived close by.  Again, we pointed out that we lived in the house right in front of us.  After a couple more minutes, she asked if we had far to get home.  Obviously, it was a good new year.

     A couple weeks later there was a knock on our door.  The lady at the door asked if I was Matthew, which of course I was.  She said she wanted to thank me for everything I did for Max.  I drew a blank.  My wife works in a daycare and my only thought was it was a parent of one of her kids.  My wife walked over and I repeated that she wanted to thank us for everything we did for Max.  My wife, who is the smartest person I know on Earth, knew what the lady was talking about, but could tell I didn't.  After reminding me about out New Year's friend, I clued in.  The lady gave us a Tim Horton's card to say thank you.

   Even after several days, I find myself still thinking of that poor dog that got dropped in the Welland Canal with his legs hog tied and two bullet wounds in his head.  Last I heard, not one single lead had been given to the proper authorities.  I write these stories of past pooches in my life as a dedication to a dog who left in a completely wrong way.

     Just so we're not leaving each other on a sour note.  The story as I understand it was that there was a New Years party.  Someone thought it would be a good idea to take Max for a walk.  Some time later, that person returned to the party, without Max.  When asked where the dog was, this person simply responded with "I don't know."  This caused the owners to start banging on doors around the neighbourhood looking for the dog.  Keep in mind that this is around one-thirty, two o'clock in the morning.  Hence, the reason neighbours were annoyed.  Annoyed enough to call the police.

     By the way, The Shin Kicker says take the Q-Tip out of your ear.

- Matthew Terry

A Man And His Dogs

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     I know, I know, I'm trying to get away from the negativity.  But when something so negative consumes you, you become negative yourself.  Rather than wait until Monday when my passion, and frankly disgust, dissipates, I'm going to address this today.

http://www.niagarafallsreview.ca/2015/04/30/dog-hog-tied-shot-and-dumped-in-wellands-recreational-canal

     The Reader's Digest version of the above article is that someone, or a group of people, hog tied a dog and then shot her in the head with a small caliber weapon.  Obviously to most people, this is disgusting.  Most people I say, because obviously there is at least one person that thinks this is without issue.  I can go on and on and on about how disgusted this makes me feel, but I won't.  Everyone else already is and will be over the next little while.  Instead, I choose to honor the memory of a dog that, to my knowledge, I have never encountered.  I would like to introduce you to the dogs that have enlightened my life.

    I cannot start anywhere else other than Sam.  Sam was my childhood dog.  She was a schnauzer that my family, by some means, inherited.  Sam fell in love with both my brother and I and was very protective of us both.  My mom tells the story that at night Sam would walk into my room, then my brother's, then would sleep right between our two doors once she knew we were safe in bed.  My mom jokes that she could never lose me because all she needed to do was drive around town and wherever Sam was sitting on the front step, she knew that I must be inside.  Sam used to run alongside my bike when I rode around town.  Over time and as she got older, she couldn't keep up and would walk home when her body couldn't take her any further.  One day I rode to the store to pick up a wrestling magazine and as I sat and read it in front of the store, Sam began moaning.  She had made it all the way to the store this time.  By the time I was able to find help, Sam was gone.  That was over twenty years ago but it still makes me cry while I write this.

     I had two dogs in my early twenties.  I have absolutely no recollection of what the first dog's name was.  My girlfriend and I were given the dog because someone didn't want their dog.  A few months later we were all outside, the dog was tied up by a rope.  After some time we looked around and realized the dog was nowhere to be found.  He had somehow escaped the rope.  We looked and looked and looked for the dog with no luck whatsoever.  As my girlfriend was out looking, I took the initiative of calling the Humane Society.  As it turned out, they indeed had our dog and told me that it would cost some sum of money to get him back.  When I informed my girlfriend that they had the dog and we would need to pay this money, she decided that the dog was not worth it.  I was of the opinion that he was.  I lost.

     My second early twenties dog was Hershey.  My girlfriend decided that we should get a dog for her two kids.  We went to a flea market to look at a poodle which was advertised as a puppy, but upon review was nowhere close to puppy status.  While she went off to argue with the vendor if "reserving" the dog meant we were "taking" the dog, her son and I looked at other litters.  I started playing around with a group of puppies, when the little guy asked what kind of dogs they were.  I told him they were schnauzers and that I had had one as a kid.  Instantly he wanted one of them and ultimately we did get one, which was the afore mentioned, Hershey.  Now we got this dog because the kids begged to have one.  There was nothing more, according to them, that they wanted.  The dog, according to them, would be taken care of by them without any help from their mother or myself.  However, over time, according to them, they did not have time to feed, bathe, walk or even interact with the dog.  So, with my girlfriend not being a dog person, Hershey became my dog.  Which I was fine with truth be told.  Couple years later, the girlfriend and I went through a rather difficult breakup.  I insisted that I take Hershey with me because she had no use for the dog and the children had lost interest a long time before.  She responded by saying that the dog belonged to the kids and that there was no way I could have the dog.  I told her that if she ever changed her mind and wanted the dog gone, to get a hold of me.  ( See where this is going? )  Three months later I stopped by to pick up some items I had forgotten.  Things were okay with her and I.  We sat and chatted, I hung out with the kids.  It wasn't a terrible visit.  Until I asked where the dog was.  I was told that she gave the dog away about two weeks after I walked out the door.  I asked why she never told me she was getting rid of the dog.  She told me with a laugh "What do you expect, I was mad at you at the time."  I walked out the door again and never walked back through.

     I'm trying my best to think of a justifiable reason why this dog ended up in the canal.  I'm having a very hard time coming up with any type of answer.  The only thing that keeps crossing my mind is that there must have been another option.  Put an ad in the paper.  Bring the dog to the Humane Society.  If the dog was ill, take them to the vet and humanely have them put down.  I would prefer that they bring the dog to my store and allow me or someone else to do something.  I'll even take cats.  Contrary to what my wife says, I am not a cat person.  But no animal deserves to leave this world in such a way.  Sorry if I went backwards on the happy scale.  Monday will be better, I promise.

     Shin Kicker says take the Q-Tip out of your ear.

- Matthew Terry

That One Person In Australia

     The past couple days I have taken in some concern that I am not in a "good place".  Apparently, my last couple BLOGS have not been very happy ones.  Frankly, I thought the one with Alan Carter ( @ACarterglobal ) was pretty funny, but others saw it as being down on myself and the things I've done.  Then yesterday, I wrote about how I get down when everyone doesn't like me.  So, it would seem I need to prove to my friends, family, someone in the United Kingdom and one person in Australia, that I'm doing just fine.

     So, allow me to address that one person in Australia.  Well, at least who I think that one person is.  I tend to believe that the one person is Aaron Berry.  Who is Aaron Berry you may ask?  Aaron Berry went to St. Leonard's Catholic School with me.  I think it was for only one year, maybe two.  But for someone who had such a small sample period, I seem to remember a lot about Aaron.

     Aaron came from Australia to Canada.  I don't remember if it was a student exchange, or maybe his parents were transferred here for business.  I was somewhere in the range of eight to, maybe, eleven years old, so the circumstances were not priority to me.  Regardless, I do remember him coming from Australia.  I remember him explaining to the class how long it took for his family to go from there to here.  However, I do not remember how long it took them, but I do remember a chorus of "Woa's" that the time brought from everyone.

     I remember Aaron being able to spell Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.  The word from Mary Poppins.  I know I couldn't spell the damn thing at the time.  Heck, I couldn't spell it now.  I had to find it on Google, then copy and paste it into here.  That in itself makes it impressive when twenty-five years later, I can't do what he did.  Think of how impressed the class was when he wrote it on the blackboard and the teacher told him that he was right.  I remember someone saying that no one could write a bigger word.  To which I retorted that anyone could if they wrote the same word with only bigger lettering.  I still think that's funny.  But, no one did then.

     I remember Aaron was close friends with Chris Hilliard.  I don't really have anything funny or insightful to write about their friendship, but I may never get the chance to tell this story again, so here goes.  I had a huge crush on Rochelle O'Hearn (sp?).  Chris Hilliard had a crush on Rochelle O'Hearn (sp?).  Chris Hilliard was 100% more popular, 100% more athlete and 100% more likely to impress Rochelle then I was.  However, on a school skiing trip we had to take a skiing class before they would allow us on the bigger hills.  If you failed, you were relegated to the bunny hill.  Chris passed with flying colors.  I failed in a blaze of glory.  Guess who else failed.  Rochelle O'Hearn (sp?).  So Matthew got to ski with Rochelle on the bunny hill all day long.  Nothing ever came of Rochelle and I and I don't believe anything came of Chris and her either.  But for one day, fluke as it may have been, I got one instance over the popular kid.

     Oh yea, Aaron.  I may or may not remember correctly, but I think his girlfriend for a time was Kelly O'Brien.  Or maybe Kelly O'Brien had a crush on him.  Then again, maybe someone else had a crush on him and twenty-five years of filing away memories inexplicably put Kelly O'Brien in that role.  No matter.  I do remember that the general consensus was that Aaron Berry was "cute".  I didn't think he was that cute myself.  But that's born out of not being able to judge the attractiveness of a fellow boy at such a young age.  I hope it was not a case that I was void of the masculine security I enjoy now.  In fact, thanks to FACEBOOK, I can report that Aaron Berry is indeed a very attractive man today.  Very well conditioned with a very handsome look to him.  So, if that translates to him being an attractive elementary student, then so be it.

     Then, before I knew it, Aaron was gone.  Him and his family returned to Australia.  The circumstances of which I do not remember, but again, were probably not priority at the time.  I think a lot about my past.  About the people I went to school with and grew up alongside.  The smallest things set my memory in motion.  Today, it was a small shading on a map that indicated that one single person from Australia reads my BLOG.  With no other explanation, I would assume it is Aaron.  If it is, then I appreciate my old friend taking the time to check it out.  If it happens to not be him.  Apparently, I'm starting to get over in the Land Down Under.  It puzzles me who that one person in the UK is, though.

    The Shin Kicker says take the Q-Tip ofof your ear.

- Matthew Terry