Gary MorrisMy life, a little at a time.

Feb
4thDaddy… All I want for my Birthday is a Spot Dog.

This is what I heard for around ten months before my daughter’s 5th birthday.

Every opportunity and every time she thought of it she would be sure to turn those baby blues on and look up at me with more sincerity than anyone could begin to hope to understand and say those words with a smile, hope and expectation of that Spot dog… “Daddy, all I want for my birthday is a spot dog.” Sometimes she would add “you don’t have to get me anything else… promise.” and “I promise I’ll take really good care of him.” and probably some other cute, adorable pleadings I don’t remember that any 4 year old girl would say that was dead set on getting a Spot Dog.

You might think that this affinity for a “spot dog” was the result of some extended 101 dalmatian movie time but in actuality, she had never seen the movie.

I never told her I would. I never promised her she would get a “Spot” dog. I thought about it a lot (she never let me forget). I had already made up my mind early on that she would get her spot dog for her birthday. She was so insistent and so sure that this was what she wanted, I had to get her that dog but I wanted it to be a surprise so I never let on that we were scouring the papers, pet stores and local shelters for that perfect “Spot Dog”.

My sister-in-law actually owned a pet store at the time and was also looking for a Spot Dog. We knew we didn’t want a Dalmatian  (even though they fit the description and are super cute, somehow we knew that wasn’t what she wanted.) We knew that we did not want to support the puppy mills either.

Time was running out for our search and we kept coming up empty handed. I started to feel that it just wasn’t going to happen. We just would not be able to find her that Spot Dog before her birthday.

10 days before her birthday and we are still empty handed. As fate would have it, I happened to be driving an eighteen wheeler for a short stent that year and I just happened to be in Blaine WA the weekend before her birthday (less than a week away now).

I decided to go walk about and see what the “big” town of Blaine had to offer and thought maybe I might run across something for my daughter (nothing like waiting to the last minute).

Again, as fate would have it, Petco (or some store like Petco, it has been too long for me to remember.) was hosting an adoption day and S.P.O.T. just happened to be the ones there. I am not sure how all of that works but I do remember the name of the shelter was S.P.O.T..

It was Sunday (I think) and I went in to see what they might have. I should have been surprised but I have to say that somehow, when I saw that they were having an adoption day, I knew I would find her Spot Dog there and find him I did.

There he was in all of his spotted glory. So small and cute and perfect. I knew instantly that he was the one. They only had two dogs left (actually only one, his sister was already spoken for). Why no one had snatched him up already can only be attributed to fate. He was so cute and well behaved.

Instantly I sealed the deal. I bought a crate, food, collar, leash, chew toy food and water bowls and arranged to pick him up the next day after I finished unloading (remember, I am in a big truck).

On the way home I knew we had a keeper, he was so good on a leash and would go relieve himself on command (the guy who brought him to me the next day had taught him this.)

I brought him home and snuck him in the house while my daughter was down at her Gran-pa’s. Then we came home and there he was, waiting for her when we walked in the door. She was so excited and so happy, she knew she was going to get him. She never doubted it. He was perfect and everything she wanted in every way.

You couldn’t ask for a better story in real life. This was the kind of story you read in a book that someone made up. How could you hope to find a more perfect match? You couldn’t, trust me.

My daughter started asking for a “Spot Dog” and continued asking for a “Spot Dog” for almost an entire year before her 5th birthday. less than a week before her birthday I happen to be some 2,300 miles from home and S.P.O.T. just happens to have one “Spot Dog” left, just in time for my daughter’s 5th birthday. What is the statistical probability of that equation? Anyone?

Now, almost 9 years later. We are taking our precious friend to the Veterinarian because he is sick and may not make it. He has lived a long life and has a very special place in our hearts. One that will never ever be filled or replaced should he not make it through this sickness.

The thought of loosing him is painful and brings our whole family to tears. We don’t want to loose him, he is part of the family now.

We trust that he will pull through like he did before back in 2005 when he was paralyzed from mid section down. He couldn’t walk and had no control of his bodily functions. The Vet we went to back then recommended that we put him down because there was nothing they could do and that he would only suffer and probably wouldn’t live another week.

We refused and brought him home. We started giving him a daily dose of aspirin and ice chips to hydrate him. After a few days we started seeing improvements and he started eating again. Within a few weeks he was walking again and had control of his functions again. Now, some 8 years later (take that Mr. negative Vet), we are faced again with mortality and all of it’s ugliness.

It made me want to find the people that made all of this possible and give them a big hug and a sincere Thank You from the bottoms of our hearts.

The prognoses is good that he will make it through this and we expect him to be home by Friday. But even still, we are faced with the possibility and it makes me thankful. Thankful that I have had the distinct honor of being his friend. That I have learned and loved, felt joy and peace, just from his friendship. He means the world to me and my family and when the day does eventually come, I will never forget him and will try my best to always remember the good and not dwell on the grief of his absence.

S.P.O.T. and everyone that makes S.P.O.T. possible… Thank you. Without you, we never would have known the joy of Spot (that’s his name, by the way).