In Memoriam: Dusty

Dusty was my dog. He died last week. He was 16 years old. He lived a long dog-life. He was a good dog, my Mom picked him up from the pound when he was just a puppy. He was a poodle and yorkshire terrier mix. Despite his name, he was black.

Dusty has lived with my uncle and my mamaw Walker for the past, I dunno, ten years. It's a different life from when he lived with me in the apartments and houses we resided in those years in Florida. In West Virgina, where he lived most of his life, he was tied up on the front porch out in the country. Since he was a city-dog he didn't know not to run into the street, so he was tied up. He lived in the house a lot too. He wasn't used to the cold, being a city-dog from Florida, so when it got that way, in the house he would go.

When Dusy lived with me, I was a boy. He travelled with me when I was 18, to West Virginia, and there he stayed while I went to college, and New York City. When I was a boy he would sleep in my room, in his little bed that was made for cats, under my desk beside the door. Anyone, except my Mom, who tried to go into the bedroom would hear a growl from Dusty. He was mean. Not mean to me though. Nor my Mom or Step-Dad. He bit my baby cousin, Eli when he wandered into my room. Dusty was in big trouble then.

When we lived in Barley's Club apartments in Florida, a cheap place to live, we also had a cat. Baby was his name. We were given him by my Step-Aunt and Step-Uncle... they named him. He was de-clawed and neutered, but before that happened he was as vicious as he was playful. Eventually he and Dusty where friends. Baby would clean Dusty with his tongue, rough though it was, it probably felt great to Dusty. My Mom would claim that they were like two men in prison who started a relationship to deal with their surroundings. Like the film Midnight Express. Once, my girlfriend was over, we were watching a film, and Baby was lying in the middle of the floor grooming himself. Suddenly he snapped his head towards the hallway. Dusty came barrelling into the livingroom, a missle. Baby jumped straight up in the air and Dusty went under him, kung-fu movie style. Then they took off in a chase out of sight. We laughed.

I loved that dog and it makes me sad that he is no longer around and that it has been years since I had seen him.