His name was Karly, an English Springer Spaniel puppy.
I loved this dog. I loved him so much.
We briefly owned a teacup poodle, named Ashley. It didn't work out with her... She was just annoying and didn't work out well with Karly. We ended up giving her away to family; and she ended up having puppies, which were distributed among more family! Every time we go to visit someone, I always hear stuff like "he's Ashley's pup!" or "she's a descendant of Ashley!" Kind of neat.
I also got to get close to my Grandma's dog, Rocky - a mixed breed who looked mostly like an Irish Setter.
He was very loving, and was incredibly well-trained! He could sense my Grandma coming home from down the street, and would have her slippers ready at the door. Unfortunately, he got sick and suffered somewhat the same fate as Karly...
Karly had to be put down two days after Christmas in 1997, when I was 11. He'd eaten something bad (I was told), and he got sick and developed an autoimmune disease. At Christmas, he'd stopped playing, was always sleeping, and hardly ate. I was so devastated. This dog had been a part of my family for the majority of my young life.
To ease the pain of his parting, my step-dad thought to immediately get another dog to take our minds off Karly (I was 11, my brother was 3, my sister was 5). So he got a Dalmation, named Chloe.
She was an unruly dog - vain and stupid are the best adjectives for her. She was just so dumb! She would sit in front of the oven and stare at her reflection. She wouldn't listen to commands, and had a tendency to destroy things. I think they could tell she wasn't going to work out, because soon after, we got another dog. We came home one night, and Chloe had destroyed her kennel throw pillow - cotton everywhere. She was gone within the week.
And then there was Max.
As much as I loved Karly, I truly feel Max was my puppy soul mate. He was protective of me. Caring, concerned, and totally lovable. My mom insists he was intended to be "her dog", but in the end, I think that dog loved me most. I still have dreams about him. I never had to deal with losing Max the way I lost Karly, but not long after I moved in with my grandparents (at 15), my mom decided to get rid of Max. She ended up giving him to one of my brother's friends, and I saw him once years later (and he seemed to remember me!). I still miss him, a lot.
I love Spaniels. I love Beagles. I love Pugs and Blood Hounds and Yorkies and Irish Setters. But, when it comes time to get a dog of my own - though Wes pay protest - I think I'm going to have to search for a black Pomeranian. <3
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