Where does one even begin to describe a dog like Armstrong? I could tell you the funny story about my partner, Lauri picking him out at the pound, how she'll swear she heard him calling to her the runt of an abandoned litter. How he wasn't there when I went to check him out because he was at the front desk staying warm in a drawer, but already taken. I asked who had adopted him only to find out - it was me! I just needed to pay the $70!
About how he weighed less than a pound when we brought him home and looked more like a rottweiler colored hamster than a dog. How the vets didn't think he'd make it and we had to make his dog food in the blender. How I used to get up in the middle of the night and put him in the pocket of my robe, or the hood of a sweatshirt I wore backwards just to get him to go back to sleep. How we carried him around so much the first 6 months of his life that he still thinks he is a lap dog to this day.
Or I could regale you with Marley and Me like tales of his destructiveness, tearing the flooring out of the bathroom of a house we rented, and completely destroying the landscaping, and eating only my favorite books. How he stole my visiting nephew's pacifier and refused to give it back, ensuring that he finally got as much attention as the new baby.
Or I could tell you about his quirky control issues. How when he was young we lived close enough to a "illegal" dog park for him to hear the other dogs barking. So every night at about 9pm he would start pulling at our pant legs to take him over there. He didn't bark he pulled. It was very clear what he wanted and he got it. How he trained us to take him out when he rang a bell hanging from the front door. How he never liked walking with a leash unless he could carry it in his mouth and then he would walk right next to us, because that is where he always wants to be. How he climbed into bed with my sisters visiting father in law (we were living in Hawaii with her at the time). He said he didn't notice until the morning, It was a twin bed!
Or I could tell you how very fierce (looking) he was, how people on capitol hill especially the most criminal looking would cross the street to get away from us on our walks. But how he would roll over on his back to let the kids at the bus stop pet him.
I could talk about his stoicism, about how you'd never know that his dysplagic hips must have been causing him pain his whole life. He was hit by a slowing car once that pushed him 180 degrees' he didn't even look up at it, just stood there waiting for me to finish getting the groceries out of the car and then bounded up the stairs like nothing had happened. I've watched small dogs sink their teeth into his ankles with out so much as making him flinch or turn to give them any attention at all.
But Armstrong's biggest gift has always just been his presence. Sure he demands affection and his big head has not always been welcome on every lap he has plunked it on. But in the long run his big silent love has helped many get through a long night.
When my partners mother was dying of breast cancer in 1999, Armstrong came with us to live with her. He would just sit there next to her chair for hours, her swollen hand patting his head now and then. She wasn't one for big showy sentiment and she didn't really like dogs, not in the house anyway. But day after day and late into the night they would sit, her in her chair watching TV, he right next to it, her hand resting on his head.
The next year when my own Mother fell ill, Armstrong stayed behind in Seattle with my grieving partner while I spent most of my time in Florida. I don't know what that time was like for them. But I imagine he suffered his lack of play time and swims as stoically as he suffered getting smacked by that car, no big deal. I know he was a comfort to Lauri. And I can see him sitting by her spot on the couch while she clicked away on the computer awaiting my return.
Now it is Armstrong and I who await her return. She is working In Taipei, we are in Seattle. He is at my feet softly growling at our other dog Angus who is playing tug of war with a guest (dog) Gracy. He's still the boss but he doesn't make a fuss about it. He's sick, he has Cushings disease. I've stayed here to build my practice and take care of him.
He gets acupuncture twice a month from Lena McCollough and takes herbs for his digestion, pain, and to balance out his systems. He takes Chemo for his adrenals (Vetoryl) and L-Thyroxine for his Thyroid. Its been a great combination and he is such a healthy happy dog compared to the sick old dog he was a year ago.
The story continues for now, one sweet funny day after another and I treasure them.
Things will surely shift and Armstrong's exit will leave a rotweiler sized hole in the hearts of those who have loved him and been lucky enough to be loved by him.
PS this picture was taken right before the little guy let his bladder go all over Lauri's desk and laptop.
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