All Dogs Go to Heaven

When I was a kid I wanted a chocolate lab so bad I couldn't stand it.  My parents wouldn't let me have one because they knew I'd never take care of it.  Well, when I was 17, right before Christmas, I got in the shower and when I got out there was the cutest black lab puppy sitting in a box in my room. (imagine a really cute picture of a black lab puppy)  I was smitten from the get go.  My aunt got her for me and my mom was less than thrilled.  I'm pretty sure I spent all my Christmas money that year on Gracie.  I was 17 and had no idea what I was getting myself into.  I don't remember much about her as a puppy.  I think she slept in a crate in my room.  I don't know what she did while I was at school.  I do know that she was always waiting on me when I got home from school.  In fact, when she was about 5 months old, she was so excited for us to get home from school she came barreling down the driveway at the same time as I was turning to go up the driveway and we collided.  I panicked.  She ran off wimpering.  I was hysterical.  I tried to call my mom on my cellphone from the driveway and luckily my little brother (who was around 11 at the time and had the most level head and handled the whole situation) was coming in the back door at the same time I called so my mom knew we were ok.  We took her to the vet.  Her leg was broken but because it was so close to her growth plate we had to see a specialist.  You can imagine how expensive that was.  She had a cast on her leg and I'd have to wrap a grocery sack around it every time I took her out. 

 

(I'm going to have to dig out some cute puppy pictures to add here)

 

My first year of college she had to stay home with my parents because I lived in the dorm.  I missed her.  She was always so happy to see me when I came home.

She came to live with me my sophomore year when I lived in a house.  The first tailgate party we hosted happened to fall around my aunt's birthday.  Gracie was never to be left in the house loose alone.  Well everyone got a ticket to the game last minute and the last person out left Gracie in the house.  When I got back there was cake and icing everywhere.  She had gotten the birthday cake off the table and had her own little party.  She was so bad.  She would get food off the counter all the time.  Once she got chicken fingers out of the toaster oven while they were cooking.  That's talent. 

She loved the lake.  She would swim out and try to get on your float with you.  Most people hated that.  When we would all go out to ski or tube, I never could go right in front of the house because she would swim out and chase me.  I think the lake was one of her favorite places. 

When Patrick and I got married she came with me to Morris.  Patrick already had Sam, his yellow lab and they were best buds from the beginning.  She had puppies that year too (they weren't Sam's, we don't know who the daddy was).  She was a good little mama.  She was so proud of her babies.  Last week she started moving slow.  We thought nothing of it.  She was almost 14 years old.  Well by Wednesday she wasn't eating.  Friday I had to go out in the yard and find her when I got home from work to get her in out of the rain.  She could only take 2 or 3 steps before she would fall and I'd have to pick her up again.  It was heartbreaking.  I got her in and she plopped down right in front of the door.  She was in the same place when Patrick got home 5 hours later.  We got her moved closer to her bed but she wouldn't eat or drink.  We decided we would take her to the vet Saturday morning.  When we got up Saturday morning Patrick went down to check on her and she was still in the same place we'd left her.  We got her loaded in the car and headed to the vet.  It was packed, Patrick stayed in the car with her while I went and told them we were there.  I broke down talking to the poor receptionist.  They came out to get us and we went back to the room.  The vet came in and examined her.  She said her liver was enlarged and that was probably what was causing her symptoms.  She gave us a few options.  She let us know that it could possibly be infection or something else causing her liver to struggle but most likely at her age it was probably just giving out.  She was so kind and told us she supported what ever we decided.  We decided that moving forward with treatment was not worth putting her through for maybe another week with her.  The vet was so kind and reassuring to us.  They let us hold her and say good bye.  As I was sitting there I was so mad at myself for not spending more time with her.  For not taking her to the lake again, not laying out in the yard on a blanket with her.  I was just so sad I took the time I thought we had for granted.  I know she was just a dog but that dog saw me through some of my life's biggest accomplishments.  She was there when I went to prom, graduated from high school, went off to college, moved in to the first place where I paid bills, when Patrick and I went on our first date, got engaged, when I finally graduated from college and got married.  She was there when we got home from our honeymoon and we moved in together.  She was there when we brought Barrett home and she was there for every day in between.  She was a food thief and an escape artist.  She got in the trash and was a little bit racist (which was odd since she was black).  She was the only reason I've ever had the police called on me.  She was the best bad dog I've even known and she will be greatly missed.

Being a Grown-up

I have been an official grown-up for a little over 3 years now.  I considered myself an official grown-up in December of 2007 when I graduated from The University of Alabama.  I was a pretend grown-up for most of those 4.5 years.  I had a job and I payed bills.  I spent most of my time going to class and complaining about how unfair it was that my parents made me work and pay bills when all these other kids were just handed wads of cash and had no worries of how the payment on their cute little BMW was going to get paid.  Daddy would make sure they had the cutest dresses for football games and that they always had a place on the beach for Spring Break.  (I mean my Daddy had to sell our condo on the beach to buy my house in Tuscaloosa. I can't believe I was such a brat!) 

I got a car when I turned 16 (1990 Geo Tracker with a rag top).  It was a great car for driving around Gardendale as a teenager but it didn't handle so well on the interstate.  To say I hated driving that car to college would be an understatement.  I didn't exactly hide my feelings about it either.  My mom got a new car for Christmas my freshmen year.  I was okay with it.  She needed it badly.  My sister turned 16 the summer between my freshmen and sophomore years at Bama and she got a "new"car.  It was a few years old but compared to my tracker it was new.  I was jealous.  I was angry.  How could my parents give her this nice "new" car for her to drive 2 miles back and forth to school and let me drive a death trap 120 miles roundtrip from Tuscaloosa to Gardendale.  It was like they didn't care at all that my little car nearly blew over if an 18 wheeler passed me on 20/59. To add insult to injury, they went to great lengths to surprise her which included a personalized airbrushed tag and giant red bow!  I mean, yes I got a car when I turned 16 but it was a car my dad bad bought two years prior and it evolved into my car.  There was no bow involved.  {Can you imagine how bitter I was when it was happening?  I mean we're talking 6 years ago!} 

In my defense I really was happy for her to have a dependable vehicle in fact I'd told my parents if they were going to buy her a car to buy her something that will last through college.  I just thought they'd get me something more reliable first.  I've always been the selfish one. I'm not proud of it but it is a fact.

Fast Forward about six months...I'd been having trouble with the battery on my car so I took my car to AutoZone and had them test it.  They told me I need a new battery.  I called my dad and I thought I understood him to say if the AZ guys thinks you can make it home to bring it home and he'd get the battery.  He, in fact, said to get a new battery before I come home.  Well I headed home with the old battery broke down in a not-so-great part of town right at dark.  My dad and brothers came to the rescue and got the car home and fixed.  A few weeks later the car dies, I had to be jumped off twice on the way home from work.  My dad had to come down and tow it home.  My mom declared I was not driving that car back to school.  I had a job waiting tables and made a little money. I knew my parents couldn't afford to buy me a car, they had just bought 2 cars in a year.  They said they could help me if I made most of the payment each month.  So the very next day my mom, sister, and I headed out to buy my sister a dress for something and we stopped in the Honda dealership.  I just knew I wanted an accord.  My roommate had one and I loved it.  Then I went into the Used Car showroom and there was my future car.  A 2003 Nissan Altima.  It was green though and I didn't really want green but it had a price tag we couldn't walk away from.  I drove it home to show my daddy and he thought it was a good deal and would be a great car for me.  He wasn't wrong.  I have loved it.  It's made numerous roadtrips.  It's the car the boys decorated at our wedding and the one we took on our honeymoon.

 And as of Today

...it's paid for. 

It has taken me forever but I've never been more proud.  I know my parents paid a lot of it when I was in school but I wrote the check every month.  It is one lesson that I am so grateful to my parents for.  The value of a dollar and the fact that money doesn't grow on trees.  I'm also thankful for my first car, the Tracker.  I learned a lot about taking care of cars.  I learned how to check the oil, transmission fluid and power steering fluid. 

Being a grown-up has its ups and downs.  I'm not going to lie..I'd go back to waiting tables if it meant I could still be in college whining about how I had to pay for everything.  I've never been prouder to be a grown-up as I was today dropping that final payment in the mailbox.

Thanks Mom and Dad for not giving me everything I thought I needed!  Can you imagine how bratty I'd turned our if you did? Ha!
Sister, it's no secret I felt that way about your 16th birthday.  Looking back, you deserved that car way more than I did. (Even if you didn't know you had to check the oil for the first year you drove it!)  I needed to learn that I wasn't the most important person in this family. 

My little brother actually drove the Tracker when he turned 16.  He eventually got a nice truck and never looked back.