Shelby

This is a picture of me and the dog I grew up with, Shelby. She's a pomeranian/miniature poodle mix that my dad just randomly brought home one day back in 1996 when I was 11 and my sister was 9. We had never had a dog before, and needless to say, we were ecstatic to have this cute, crazy ball of fuzz!



Shelby was a typical puppy at first, always getting into trouble. It only lasted for a few years, and after that, she was the perfect little dog. She wasn't the type to bark excessively, though we always knew if someone was walking on the sidewalk outside our house. She went through a short phase of ripping apart trash, but she would always come apologize to us in her special way before we would even find it.

She almost got hit by a car once, back in the first year we had her. She escaped from the front door when we were leaving and ran across the street toward the light pole, a popular place for neighborhood dogs, and she darted out in front of a blue car. The driver slammed on his brakes, and Shelby came running right back to us. I think she was as scared as we were. I've never forgotten it.

You know how it is when you have an animal in your life for years, and you seem to have your own language between the two of you? That's how Shelby was with our family. And you know how animals have weird little personality quirks that you only notice once you get to know them really well? We had that in Shelby too.

For example, she always dug the carrots out of my mom's garden and ate them during the summer. After awhile, my mom didn't fight it anymore and instead just gave Shelby carrots as she harvested the other vegetables. Shelby would spend hours in the backyard with my mom, either "helping" in the garden or just laying in the grass, sniffing the air and soaking up the sun.

Every summer, Shelby had an ongoing war with the squirrels. They would team up on her, teasing her and running around, staying at a spot on the tree just out of Shelby's reach. After about the fourth summer, Shelby finally got one. My sister came home from school just in time to see Shelby swinging the squirrel around by its tail, its broken legs flailing. Horrified, she ran outside to save the squirrel from Shelby, only to be bitten by it and having to get a rabies shot. We only found out later that squirrels don't technically carry rabies. Better safe than sorry, I guess.

Another summer, we took Shelby out to our grandparents' cabin at Lake Guernsey for a weekend, where we hiked trails and played on the dock. My sister and I got on our floaties and swam out toward the center of the lake as Shelby watched us from the dock. She began to bark like she wanted to come with us, but we were already too far out to go back and get her. That was when she jumped into the water off the dock, only to start sinking to the bottom. Of course, we started screaming, and my mom basically jumped in to save her. After that, we always took Shelby with us on the floaties. She eventually learned to swim.

Shelby on the dock at Lake Guernsey. This was one of her favorite places to be!


Shelby eventually got to the age where she settled down, and we never had any problems with her. We could take her on walks in the park without her leash because we knew she wouldn't run too far from us. We could even let her go out in the front yard with us, and she'd never leave our property.

She had a lot of joy in her life, thanks to our big yards and the many outdoors areas at Guernsey and on my grandparents' ranch. Everytime we had to leave town as a family, Shelby would go out to the ranch, and I think she'd just barely miss us more than she loved it out there. We'd also take her with us on car rides, and she'd happily stick her head out the window. I remember laughing so many times at seeing her reflection in the sideview mirror of the car, the wind blowing her hair into a frenzy, her little tongue hanging out of her mouth.

I moved out of my parents' house when I was 18, but it was only a few blocks away, so I still saw Shelby on a regular basis and would take her to the parks with me when the weather was nice. Then I moved to Kearney, four hours away from home, and I saw Shelby less and less. It was always a happy reunion when I went back, though, and my parents would always bring her with them when they came to visit me.

Shelby's getting old now. A couple of summers ago, she began having heart problems. She's always kind of had a weird hacking cough due to the murmur in her heart, but then her little heart started to get bigger and bigger. According to the x-rays, her heart is the same size as a grown adult human! According to the vet, her heart could fail at any time.

The last time I saw her was over Thanksgiving, and I had to give her pills twice a day wrapped in cheese. One night, as we were sleeping together in my bed, I woke up to her having a siezure. I didn't know what it was at the time, but when I explained it to my mom, she told me about it and said, "Oh, that happens to her sometimes."

Shelby can't come visit me anymore because the four-hour drive is too much for her little body to handle. When my sister or I go back home, we have to try to keep her calm so she won't have a heart attack, or as my dad says, so she doesn't "explode."

She can't run too much, and her walks are much shorter. What used to be a dark black coat of fur is now partly grey. When you think about it, she's now 13 years old, which puts her somewhere in the 60s as far as dog years go. The average life expectancy of small dog is about 15 years, though, so she might still have a ways to go. But even if she did die today, I'd consider it a good run for the money.