|
 She was named after Stella Kowalski from Tennessee Williams’ “A Streetcar Named Desire.” Not for her looks or demeanor, nor was it because it was my favorite movie of all time, it wasn’t. I always enjoyed it, but that was not the reason. It was that something tickled me about calling my dog in a plaintive wail like Stanley Kowalski did from the street in that immortal scene from the movie.
Sometimes, in the beginning, I would attempt to call her giving it my best Marlon Brando. But Brando is not one of the impressions I can do, so I quickly abandoned it to avoid further embarrassment. But it was still fun to shout out her name at the top of my lungs when her dinnertime came. If nobody else got the joke it didn’t make any difference, my wife Stacey, Stella, and I did, and that’s all that mattered.
We got her at the San Gabriel Humane Society over 15 years ago when she was a newborn pup of about 6 weeks. The sign on the cage said “Lab Mix.” She was dark brown at that point with little white paws. She was sleeping soundly surrounded by the other members of the litter squeezed so tightly together that you would have thought they were one. We picked her out of the group and took her home. We didn’t have kids yet, so for the time being, she would be our baby.
A few days after we got her home our baby got sick. We quickly became acquainted with one of the biggest rip offs on the face of the planet, the animal health care industry. The problem was minor and a couple of hundred dollars later we had the proper medicines and our girl was on the mend. My wife spent all of her waking hours curled up next to that little fur ball until she was completely well.
As time passed and our little pup grew it became evident as to what our lab mix was mixed with. As she grew, her dark brown color began to change into a brindle color and her body became more muscular by the day. Our little lab mix was mixed with, as the veterinarian confirmed, a pit bull. Oh great, what was this dog going to be like when we did have kids?
And what about the cats? At that point in our lives we were also cat people, to the tune of four felines. Would Stella, once she was substantially bigger than the cats, start using them as chew toys? Nope. As they grew together it was the cats, especially the older two, who ruled the roost. On more than one occasion Stella took a couple of cat paw jabs to the snout when she invaded their territory.
This gentle trend continued throughout her life. That is, until someone invaded her territory. When that happened she would be fierce, at least to those who did not know her. She was the perfect blend of the lab demeanor and a pit bull’s protective nature. That protective nature made her one of the most valuable assets to our family because the one area that belonged to Stella, lock, stock, and barrel was the backyard. Nobody ever entered our yard unannounced, and if they attempted to, their stay was brief.
Southern California Edison had a notation in their little hand held computers warning of Stella’s existence. Our mail carrier, Robert, developed serious respect and fear of Stella early in her life. One day my wife opened the front door just as Robert was putting the mail in the box. Stella bolted pass my wife and straight for Robert. Being much younger then, Robert was fleet of foot and took off running backwards, mace in hand, with Stella right on his heels.
We finally caught up to Stella halfway down the driveway. Robert never took his eyes off of Stella, and ran the rest of the way down the driveway backwards. For over a decade he always approached our home with caution with one hand full of mail and the other on his mace.
What Edison and Robert didn’t know was that it was all an act, a defense mechanism on Stella’s part. This dog was such a big baby that whenever a human male, who was obviously a friend, would come to our house she would pee on the floor. A dog, despite all of her fierce bravado, never bit anything short of Milk Bones and Kibbles in her life.
But time finally caught up to Stella like it eventually does with all of us. She was now 105 dog years old. The shine of her brindle coat was gone and it was falling out in clumps. The spring in her step had been replaced by arthritis. Even when she wanted to show her excitement with a little hop it would generally wind up with her falling to the ground unable to get back up. Her once sharp and clear eyes were now gray and lifeless.
My wife and I made the heartbreaking decision to end her pain by taking her to the local animal hospital. So on this past Monday, my wife and daughter took Stella on the short little walk up the street. On the walk up to the animal hospital, for the first time in a long time, she acted a little bit like the old Stella. She was showing a little more spring in her step and stopped along the way to smell the flowers.
At one point my wife thought it may be too soon to take her and thought about turning back. But Stella wasn’t going to get better or younger and it was better to go out peacefully and with less pain. No, now was the time.
On June 23rd 2003, Stella Dunn passed over quickly and peacefully and we will all miss her very much.
If you believe in the afterlife as described by John Edward, I have to think that she is still with me, sleeping outside of my office door as she always did. It’s just that now I don’t have to step over her.
The Shrub Speaks: We said loud and clear [to corporate scoundrels], if you cheat the shareholder and your employees, you will be held responsible for those decisions. The world is now more peaceful because we acted. Fridley, Minnesota, Jun. 19, 2003
Bd’s response: If only we had known that having a stricter economic policy would have brought peace to the world, we never would have gone to war in Iraq.
|
