Frosty died on November 9th. I didn't feel like updating this saying that because I wanted to write more than "he died. rip." because he was in my life for 12 years.
I wanted a dog. Always. And my parents said no. Always. Until one day they got me to shut up by saying "We'll get a dog when we buy a house." I believe it was a few months (mom, you can correct here, since you read this) later that they were buying the house we had been renting. In my AWESOME eavesdropping skillz I had when I was five I was like (paraphrase here) "OMGZ I gets a puppeh nowzzz!" And I wanted a white dog and I was going to name him Frosty. So a bit later, we went to the pound, and BAM! White dog is there and ready to be named Frosty. At this point we only had the truck (1969 Ford) so we all (Dad, Mom, Frosty, and me) pile into thetruck. Frosty was sitting on mom and I 's laps and I remember saying something about how gross it was because he was wet.
Frosty, up until the last five years, was always afraid of the hose. If you went near it, he'd run. We attributed this to them spraying both him and his cage clean at the pound. But he get over it and did a 180 and soon loved the hose. Seriously. Dog was a hose hound. I grew up with him, so I guess he felt really protective of me. He would always bark louder when I was around a stranger (which was like, all the time). He was a protector, but he also dragged my dumbass 7 year old self down the driveway when I thought it'd be an A+ idea to put the leash on him. He was also a better garbage disposal than the kind you can buy at Lowes. Seriously, he once ate like, four cobs of corn we had left in the trash. Whole. He finished them all.
When I got Thumper (about two years after we got him) he would sit at the back door and whine while I took care of Thumper. He soon got over that, and in another 180, him and Thumper became buds. I knew I could let Thumper run around outside with Frosty and they would both be safe. This is one of the things I will miss, being able to see my two old guys outside together. I'm not sure how Thumper feels about it, but I do know he liked to run around Frosty.
I looked through old photographs last night of everything. I was mainly looking for Frosty pictures, though. I found them, and a few were of him jumping. It's hard remembering him like that. That last few years he developed hip problems to where he couldn't jump off the porch, yet in these pictures he was two feet off the ground (or four feet if you want to be a smartass). It's now that I realize all of what he had gone through starting in 2002 and ending in November 9, 2007. His hips declined to where he could not lay in his favorites spots anymore, his voice box became paralyzed in the last year or two which he had breathing problems from. And then, that day, the throwing up and not recovering, throwing up, not recovering, throwing up, not recovering, etc. We learned at the vet's office that this was a sign his organs were failing.
I could not be there. I was not strong enough. But my parents, and more so Frosty, were strong enough. My parents said they took him through the park before taking him the vet's office. Frosty loved rides, and this was the best they had seen him in weeks. But that didn't last long, at the vet he threw up. They said he went easily and peacefully, which is amazing to hear because of how much he had suffered, I was glad he was at peace. I was also terribly said I had lost my first best friend.
I don't think it has truly set in. It may not ever. And it sure as hell hasn't set in that my dog that I had had since I was five is now in a 3 inch by 3 inch by 3 inch box inside a Paris-themed gift bag (seriously, funeral home, A GIFT BAG?)
1995 - 2007