With heavy hearts, Charlie and I said our goodbyes yesterday to the finest dog we have ever known and let Booger, our 13-year-old Boston Terrier, take her final walk, alone, over the Rainbow Bridge.
Poor Booger seemed to run out of gas this past month, laboring to walk, huffing and puffing after minimal exercise, and sleeping most of the day. She stopped eating. And then, she showed no interest in “going for a walk”, which was always her top priority. Today, Booger didn’t want to harass the vacuum cleaner, which is her all-time favorite indoor game.
Alas, she was done; it was time. A dog owner knows the signs. As do her “sister” Boston Terriers, Baby and BonBon, who have been walking around like zombies for a couple of days.
My wife Charlie was not a “dog person” early in our marriage. She had endured a dog (her husband’s) in her earlier, failed marriage, and our four sons had a mixed breed dog (“Chewy”) when they were teens, but my wife never warmed up to that animal. Then, we went a long time, almost twenty years, before Booger came into our lives.
Charlie surprised me on my 60th birthday with a tiny Boston Terrier puppy. I was bowled over by the living gift, just what I needed at the time (early retirement). I had been spending quite a bit of time babysitting our grandchild Craig for about 5 years, and now he was off to kindergarten. There was a hole in my life…and Charlie filled it.
“Booger”…Where did that name come from? Not from Charlie, that’s for sure. Actually, she would have preferred a more traditional, feminine name like Bella, or something. However, something in my gut told me that this little perky puppy was going to be a Hell on wheels mischief maker, so she needed a one-of-a-kind name. “Booger” popped into my mind, and that was it.
We both fell hard for our new family member. Booger was smart, full of life, and affectionate. She loved to go on walks, ride in the car, play with toys, socialize, and follow me everywhere. She aced Obedience School, Parts 1 and 2, embarrassing the other dogs with her learning speed.
We knew we had a winner.
Booger was quite the athlete for most of her years. She was fast and agile, and absolutely loved chasing and retrieving objects in the house, at the park, or on the beach. She became notorious, at the Bear Creek park, for dominating the place which was typically populated by many larger dogs chasing things thrown by their masters. When little Booger came into the park, I would hear, “Uh, oh, here comes Booger!”, because she would set about dominating the chase and retrieve games. She would even take the ball out of larger dogs’ mouths, like Thor, the 150-pound Mastiff.
Booger was a ball-retrieving machine. I could throw a ball one hundred yards, she would race off at break-neck speed, grab it, and return it, and every single time drop it at my feet. She would do this even in a crowded park or at Dog Beach in Del Mar, California…with fifty other dogs in her path. Other dog owners would say, “How did you train her to do that?” I would answer, “She trained herself.”(Later in her life, Booger trained our third Boston Terrier “Baby” to do the very same thing.)
When Booger was a 2-year-old, Charlie and I decided to adopt a 3-year-old Boston Terrier named JayJay. Those two bonded immediately and became inseparable best buddies. They loved riding in the car, protecting us from dangerous noises (like the trash truck or FedEx deliveryman at the door), playing noisy tug of war, getting sprayed by the garden hose, lounging in their infant swimming pool, cuddling with us on the couch, and sleeping with us at night. They were opposites that attracted. Booger loved JayJay.
One of our favorite memories was the very first time that Booger and JayJay went to the ocean. It was in Ventura, where we were staying for a couple of days. We took the dogs across the sand toward the surf and it was like, “Oh my God, we’re at Disneyland!”…they were so excited. We let them off leash and they ran around like crazy fools, digging in the sand, chasing each other in circles, and then running headlong into the surf. Oh, they liked that!
Booger’s favorite place in the world was the beach at Oceanside RV Resort in Charleston, Oregon. There she could run up and down the strand, chase thrown objects, run into the ocean, play “keep away” with her adopted brother JayJay, and investigate the distinctive smells of seaweed, shells, driftwood, dead fish, and whatnot. There is a rocky spit that juts out into the Pacific Ocean at that location, and Booger loved to examine all of the tide pools with crabs and sea anenomies.
I was always proud to take Booger on walks around the neighborhood. She was a beautiful specimen of a dog and always enjoyed meeting other dogs and their owners. Booger had a very wonderful disposition which got better as she aged; she always gave strange dogs the benefit of the doubt by being open to a friendly sniff.
However, she refused to be punked by any dog. A chihuahua named Rambo picked on her a couple of times, sneaking up behind Booger and nipping her hind legs while she was walking on leash with Charlie. The next time it happened, Booger body-slammed the asshole Rambo and he acted like he was mortally wounded. “I’m not taking any shit from you!” was Booger’s attitude.
Booger was a sun worshipper: she loved to sunbathe on real grass or on the artificial stuff. For about ten years, she had to satisfy her urge on a tiny area of fake grass in our small backyard at Bear Creek. But she was in Hound Dog Heaven when we moved to Mesquite, Nevada and landscaped a 5,000 s.f. backyard with all manner of interesting plants, trees, cacti, walking paths, and a 250 square foot artificial grass lounging area for her sunbathing pleasure. Booger loved to access the backyard via her doggie door and wander the property at her leisure. And occasionally take a dip in the pool with friends.
We got into the RV life later in our marriage, and Booger loved to travel with us. At every stop she found new smells, friends, and experiences.
Booger performed an errand of mercy in her later years, helping our friends, the Quinn’s, get over the loss of their two Boston Terriers. We allowed Booger to do “sleepovers” in the Quinn’s RV when we would meet them during our annual RV road trip and I think that Booger’s compassionate and fun-loving disposition perhaps encouraged the Quinn’s to give dog ownership another go. They now have a young Boston Terrier named Katie and seem to be very much in love with her.
Time rolls on and, sadly, our furry friends don’t live forever. When our male dog JayJay was in his final years, we brought a third Boston Terrier into the house. Her name is Baby, and we named her that because Booger had never had a puppy of her own. Booger was about 9 years old at that time, and she set about teaching little Baby how to be a dog.
The experience was a success, and Baby is now “paying it forward” with our newest addition, “BonBon”.
It all started with Booger, the best little dog in the world.
We will miss her immensely.