My Golden Boy

Everyone has read the book about Marley the bad dog.  But I want to tell you about Elliott.  The kindest, most loving gentleman of a dog there ever was.  His soul shone through every day of his life.  He wanted to love and please you, comfort and console you.  Every time he looked at you the love in his eyes shone as bright as the stars.

Everyone called him a mama’s boy because from the day I brought him home, he was never to far from me.  As a puppy he attended Board Meetings at publicly traded corporations, got bored (no pun intended), and curled up under the Board Room table.

He was such a good puppy and only tore up paper.  Imagine my surprise when I came home to find my living room ankle deep in paper.  He had torn up the dictionary from A to Z.

We bought him a kiddie’s pool when we brought him home and he had the best time jumping in and out and playing in the water.  His favorite time was when I tested the sprinklers and he would run from one to the other jumping and biting and the water.  He would sit on them and than run like crazy.

He would greet everyone with a cheery hello, as only Golden’s can do and insist on walking people to their cars when they left.

Once when we went on vacation and I had to board him, I decided to pay the extra and have him trained, although he was already trained.  I figured that that way someone would be paying attention to him everyday.  When we went to pick him up, the trainer said he was a really smart dog.  First Lassie, then Rin Tin Tin and then Elliott.  I said well than he must have been easy to work with.  The trainer said yes and no.  He put Elliott in the training area (behind the two way mirror) and told him down.  Elliott immediately laid down.  The trainer put a biscuit in the middle of the room, left and came out to watch with us.  You could actually see Elliott thinking.  Still in the down position he crept across the room and ate the biscuit.  The trainer said “See, I didn’t tell him to stay so he out thought me”.

Elliott talked to his Grandfather on the phone and they carried on a pretty intense conversation.  After his Grandfather died he refused to talk on the phone.  He was like he knew that Grandpa was gone.

Elliott loved to play hide and seek.  You would take a little canvas bag and put a treat in it.  You had to take Elliott out of the room before you hid it because it would cheat.  Once you hid it you would tell him to fine it.  He actually would go to a different place when you told him he was cold and seek it aggressively when you told him it was hot.

Every day it was his job to bring in the paper.  He took that job seriously.  One day while he was working his friend CJ came running over.  Elliott would have nothing to do with him.  Elliott had this look in his eye and attitude, “Don’t bother me when I’m working.

When my father died, I would get up in the middle of the night crying.  Elliott would come with me and put his head in my lap and console me.  Walk the floor with me and snuggle me.  He would spoon like a person.

My sister Val taught him to swim in the ocean for a potato chip.  He was a food whore.  He taught himself to rescue people in the pool by jumping in, swimming to them, turning around, and letting them grab his tail pull them to the steps.  The only problem was if there was food out.  If you called for help, he would look at the food, look at you, look at the food, than he would jump in to save you.  He loved to swim but what he really loved was to climb up on a raft and have you push him around the pool.  We call it playing “King of the Nile” and when you asked him if he wanted to play, he would immediately get up on the raft, cross his front paw, hold his head up high in a regal pose and wait for you to start pushing.

Elliott loved to dress up for Halloween.  When the kid would come and open their bags for a treat Elliott would stick his head in to see if there was anything in the bag that he wanted.  Then he would carry his little bag door to door and get dog treats from the neighbors.

When we brought Ginger home, he was 6 years old and use to being an only child.  He would have nothing to do with her.  She of course loved him and only wanted to be close to him.  If by chance and much creeping and sneaking, she managed to achieve it.  She would lie down next to him and than start giving him little love bite.  With a huff, he would get up and leave.  He would squeeze himself through an opening between the chair and door just so he wouldn’t have to walk next to her.  Than my father died suddenly, and we had to leave them both to the care of friends, Dean would come over at noon to let them out, and Gary come after work, feed them and spend the night, take care of them in the morning.  Elliott would not leave the bed and Ginger would not leave the bedroom.  Gary had to physically carry Elliott outside to go to the bathroom.  When we got back somehow they were best friends.

Everyone thought Ginger (the pushy woman) was the dominant dog, but it was Elliott that was the king of the household.  He was so easy going that he let Ginger do her own thing, but than he would lay down the law, with a look and a special WOO WOO he would let her know that enough was enough.  She would immediately go lie down and tuck her nose between her paws.

They were like little bookends, lying back to back in the same position.  Ginger would mimic Elliott.  If he had his paws crossed, she would cross hers.  If his head was between his paws, she would have hers there.

He was never mean, always happy and kind and thoughtful.  He was wagging his tail right to the end and the love in his eyes was still there even when I went in to say goodbye, he knew me and knew my touch and my love for him.  Before he went into surgery, I told him that if he didn’t make it to look for his Grandpa at the Rainbow Bridge, that Grandpa would take care of him until I got there.  He wagged his tail and gave me a look that said “Don’t worry, I will be ok”.

My Golden Boy is gone now and a big piece of my heart went with him.  That place is empty now, and it seems as if the light of joy has now grown a little dimmer and the world is not quite the same.