Cody, The Golden Boy, A Perfect Companion

The other day I walked into my parents' house, and for the first time in 13 years, I was not greeted by a playful bark, a wagging tail, and a joyful mass of golden fur pressing against my legs. That’s when it really hit me. Cody is gone.

Cody was my parents’ dog, a Golden Retriever/Chow Chow mix, and he was beautiful. Long, soft golden hair, with curls around the ears, and a purple spotted tongue usually hanging out of his smiling mouth. He was exactly the type of dog you imagine when you want to get a dog. Loyal, loving, playful, chill, obedient, handsome, sweet, friendly, fluffy. A perfect companion.  

He was the first dog my parents got after I moved out, so I never lived with him, but he always made their house feel like it was still home. Soon after they got him, it was like he had always been a part of our family. He would get so excited when I visited, rushing to the door and positioning himself between my legs so I would rub his head and butt at the same time.

Last year, he was diagnosed with cancer. I was sure he was going to die, because it was 2020 and nothing good could possibly happen. I was preparing for the heartbreak, but I was really more concerned about my parents, especially my Dad. With the pandemic, my mom in a wheelchair and suffering from Parkinson’s, and a cold winter setting in, this was the last thing he needed. It was too cruel. But my dad didn’t give up, and neither did Cody. He underwent treatment for the cancer, and although it wasn’t easy—he lost some weight, he coughed stuff up—he made it.

It took a lot out of him, though, and he was almost 14 years old. His hind legs had been bothering him for a while, and by mid-May, they had completely given out. He couldn’t walk. He deserved comfort and peace. It was time to let him go. So my Dad, merciful as always, brought him to the vet and let him transition.

My family always had great dogs. Ramses, a Golden Retriever, died a couple years after I was born. All I remember is that he was a good boy. Tuffy, another Golden, was there for my entire childhood and helped shape who I am almost as much as my parents did. He was anything but “tuff”, by the way. A sweet, fluffy boy. A real good dog. We got Dakota soon after we moved to West Hartford, when I was living at home, going to high school, and my brother was away at college. I was in a new town, in a new school, by myself. And I was a teenager. It was a time of great change, and Dakota helped me through it. He was a giant white horse of a pooch who would chase deer all over the golf course. A handsome, independently minded, but needy and loving pooch. Another good boy. He was too much for his previous owners’ to handle, but perfect for us. 

While we had Dakota, my parents raised a Fidelco guide dog for a year. Rachel was a good dog. It was an interesting experience because we had to (try to) maintain an emotional distance since she wasn’t staying long. That didn’t stop us from loving her. When she was done with training, she provided her services to an elderly woman with bad sight. After many years, Rachel retired, and she actually came back to live with my parents. Sadly, she passed away soon after. That entire experience taught me a lot about the process of fostering and doing something for the greater good. And it really made me admire my parents. Not many people are willing to sacrifice their time and efforts for others. Although, they did get all the benefits of a kind, loving dog for a year, so they made out pretty well, too.

Dakota and Rachel, before she started working.

Cody and Rachel, after her retirement, with Sophie, my brother's dog. She was a good girl, too.

Then there was Cody. The sweetest dog. He did more in his life than most people. Literally. My dad brought him to nursing homes to volunteer as a comfort dog. And of course, he worked as an unofficial comfort pet at home, helping to get my parents through some tough years. He was a constant presence, always by my Dad’s side.

Even on vacation in Florida.

At the beginning of this year, as the fear of Cody dying from cancer started to subside, we were blindsided by the sudden sickness and death of our kitty, Nola. It was devastating. She was only 11 months old, but the impact she made on our lives was immeasurable. Not having any other pets to comfort us only made it worse. Thankfully, Cody was there whenever I visited my parents, or when they visited us. It was almost as if he stayed around to get my parents though the winter and to help me through Nola’s death. Even in the short moments I saw him, he brought such great comfort.

We also took some comfort in remembering the two encounters between Cody and Nola. He was the one dog she ever met, and no surprise, Cody was great with her. He let her get close and sniff, and he didn’t even mind when she stalked the floor by my mom, looking for scraps of food. Nola had never met any other animals, and very few people, but she met Cody, the best the world had to offer. 

One of my favorite pics. Their first meeting, during our Christmas celebration at our new house. 

It’s hard to believe that Cody and Nola are both gone. I don’t believe in an afterlife so I won't say, “they’re playing together in Heaven now,” or something like that. I have nothing against people who say or believe that. I wish I could believe it! It’s just not how I view the world, or how I envision death. But Cody and Nola will always be connected in my memories, and even though it is heartbreaking that they are only memories now, I’m happy they are together in my mind and in my heart. 

Cody also met our new kitties, Zoli and Bijoux. I'd like to think there was some kind of transference of energy from Nola to Cody to them. Like, she met him, then he met them, and there was a connection established through Cody, as if he was a conduit of life that let her spirit continue on in them. I'd like to think that. That's my vision of the afterlife.

Cody also met our dragon, Puff! And guess what? He was great with him, and the kitties, too. Because Cody was great with everybody, and everything. Old people, kids, other animals. He was just a real good boy.

Miss you buddy.

What a beautiful boy. 

I Love You All...Class Dismissed. 

Doggie Dreams

Redman - "Doggz II"

As you may know, I recently went to Africa (and if you don't know, why aren't you taking more interest in my life?). Before going, I had to get several immunizations. I also had to take malaria pills every day, starting two days before my trip. One of the possible side effects for the pills was "weird dreams". To me, that seemed more like an added bonus than a side effect. I enjoy dreams, even weird ones (especially weird ones). I'm fascinated by the way our minds work, and dreams are simply our subconscious minds expressing themselves. Even nightmares are fascinating to me. The fact that something happening in the unconscious mind can have an impact on our physical bodies (sweating, chills, sense of fear) is incredible; it shows how little we know about our own brains, and furthermore, our own existence.

I didn't have too many weird dreams in Africa because I didn't sleep too well with the heat and an awful bed, but I did have a few very vivid, very strange dreams. One in particular felt intensely realistic, and it created in my mind a certainty of future events. Let me explain:

About a week into my trip to Tanzania, I started to sleep a little better. One night, I must have slept for a solid 4 hours straight (a mini-miracle at that point). When I awoke, I remembered my dream clearly. As with all of my dreams, the chronology was off; I don't know where things started or ended, they just happened. All I know is, I ended up with a dog in my car as I drove to my home at Corbin Frat in New Britain. The dog was a pit-bull mix with a grayish(almost blue)/black coat. He was short but thick and muscular, like most pits. I remembered thinking in my dream ("thinking" inside of a dream is pretty weird in itself; it's like multiple levels of your consciousness working at once) that I would have to somehow convince my roommate/ landlord (J-Rocka) to keep the dog. That was an odd thought, because I know he loves dogs. However, in real life, we had previously talked about having a dog at our place and always came to the same conclusion: we didn't have work schedules that would allow us to properly care for a dog. So in my dream, I was a little nervous about how he would react.

After a long drive with the dog (or a quick one, time is meaningless in dream) I finally reached home. As I entered, everything seemed very strange. There was paint (blood maybe) all over the walls and things were knocked over. J-Rocka came downstairs with 2 other friends. They had very focused, serious looks on their faces, and it looked like they were prepared for war. I told J-Rockefeller about the dog and he approved, but it seemed like he barely heard because he was still focused on something else. I asked what was going on and he explained that some people had robbed/trashed the house. My friends were now going after the people who had done it. As they left, I asked if I could help. Then I remembered that I had a deadly weapon on a leash, and I took the dog with me. We started out on our revenge mission...and then I woke up.

It didn't make much sense, but I had the overwhelming feeling that we would be getting a dog soon after I returned from Africa. I just hoped the rest of it wouldn't come true.

When I finally got home on a Friday afternoon, one of the first things Jay said to me was, "I might be getting a dog." Friends of his couldn't take care of their dog anymore and they were looking for a good home.

I laughed to myself. After my dream, I was truly convinced we would be getting a dog, but it's one of those things that is still very strange when it happens. I didn't want to jinx anything so I decided to tell him about the dream after we physically had the dog.

The next day, J-RockaFlocka told me how there had been several burglaries in the area and we should be extra careful about locking doors and windows. Getting a dog now was good timing because it would be extra security.

Now it was just bizarre. I looked at him and laughed before telling him about the dream.

I love how the mind works. I don't exactly know how it works, but I love it. A simple explanation for the similarities between my dream and reality is that the idea of getting a dog was already in my mind, so dreaming about getting one wasn't a stretch. Then, after I heard about the burglaries, I just made a mental connection to the events in my dream to give them meaning. I guess it's not really that mysterious, but it is pretty cool.

Anyways, here's some pics of Bay, the proud mascot of Corbin Frat. He's 5 years old, and we think he's a mix of a pitbull and a black lab. Besides his coat being dark brownish/black instead of greyish/black, he's the exact dog from my dream: well-behaved, friendly, and ready to help us catch burglars.

Bay.

Hipsterized Bay.

Bay on a walk. He's a thick son of a bitch. What? That's the proper term.

IT Bay.

Hey Bay! (Bay!)

Bay's favorite activity...maybe he wouldn't do so good with burglars.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.