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He Sang I Love You
HE SANG I LOVE YOU
BY: MARY PURDY
Chapter 1
A Halloween Christmas
The most loyal being in my life, was born on Halloween, 2014. He was killed the day after The Fourth of July, 2021. He was 49 years old.
We called him,” The Amazing Chirottiweenie”! Titled this due to his breed, a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix, and his coloring, which perfectly matched that of a Rottweiler. Born the runt of his litter, and tough from birth seemingly added to his huge Napoleon complex. He acted like he really WAS a Rottweiler for most of his life, and none of us thought to tell him any different.
He was our daughters dog, but all of us, were his people. And he was our dog, though so much more. He’d had the soul deeper and much more or equal to that of any pure souled human being. We loved him as much as any person that would be a part of your family…We were his pack.
“There is no such thing as a bad dog, only bad owners”, I’ve heard. That, in my opinion, is mostly true. But, there are such things as bad, even terrible, or evil dogs. Every species has this. Humans, canines, squirrel’s, fish- they all have it. Weather it’s due to a mental defect, or absolutely no conscious, basically a psychopath, it in fact happens.
Dogs that eat their own young, or attack other animals, or people once, then again, with no provocation, just for the kill and out of pure evil inside it. Dogs that had good gentle owners, and were loved, at first, but still turned on their masters, because they could. And once they did attack, or kill their intended target, they immediately went on to hunting the next.
This is what happened to Boomer This is a true story. This is Boomers story..
***
“Hey! Do you guys wanna come see the puppies!?”, Santa yelled at us from across the street.
“Awww!, Can we mom!?”, my 13 year old daughter, Ivy- Nickol asked, with of course, pleading puppy dogs eyes.
“No more dog’s,” her father, Ron said, though without much conviction. I could tell he was a bit interested, even though what he said was something we both had agreed on. We already had two dogs, both rescued from owners who were irresponsible, and had basically abandoned them.
“Hooligan”, was our Shepard/ Chow, mix, and my husband’s dog. He was a large, golden, playful dog, with wonderful manners. He would play fetch for hours untill the point we would have to hide his tennis balls, just so we could rest. He would actually drop his balls over our front fence for passing neighbors, and even some strangers to hopefully get them to toss it back over so he could fetch them.
We also had Lue-Lue, our 18 year old son, Ian’s, Scotti/Chihuahua mix. She was also a yellowish, but course haired, fuzzy little dog. We’d gotten her from Ron’s mother, who had gotten her from a neighbor who basically abandoned her. This woman had kept her kenneled almost ninety nine percent of the time, with hardly any food or water, attention, and no training of any kind.
“Can we please just look at them, Mom?”, Ivy asked again. “I don’t have a pet, and you guys all do!”, she pointed out, determined frown lines closing on her brows. Shaking my head, I sighed. “Ok, we can just look”, I said. I pretty much figured we were about to be talked into another dog by her, or “Santa”, our neighbor across the street.
Of course we’d nick-named him this for the obvious reasons. Due to his long white beard, wire rimmed glasses, twinkling eyes, and large round belly, it was fitting. His real name was Gary but we all just called him Santa and he always responded to this.
It was a week after Halloween, 2014, and the hot afternoon air in Phoenix, was barely beginning to hint at Fall. We’d only lived in our house for a few months, but in the neighborhood for a couple of years. We knew a lot of people in the neighborhood, as my daughter went to school one block away, and I usually had walked her everyday. It was an extremely rough and dangerous part of downtown Phoenix, but not all people are bad, so I’d always tried to be polite while in the neighborhood and meeting new people.
I also had recently gotten a job two houses down from ours at a local Circle K, and that of course insured I and my family knew most of the parents, as well as their kids from our neighborhood.
We’d met “Santa”, and his partner, Bonnie, right after we’d moved in, and occasionally, my husband Ron and I, would go across the street with a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette and a chat with them. Ron mostly, but occasionally I joined them.
About two weeks before Halloween, a little black, very pregnant, and obviously abandoned chiweenie dog, had wandered up to Santa and Bonnie’s apartment, and literally invited herself in and adopted them, and their apartment.
Bonnie, a large and slightly disabled, but soft spoken black woman, who was very active in her community church, and always trying to help those in need, humans or otherwise, knew they had to keep her. Especially with the little dog, so obviously ready to have a litter of puppies!
They named her, “Mamma-Dog”, and on Halloween, she had a litter of mixed-up different breeds, of four pups. One female, and three males. All were healthy, including the runt, who was extremely outsized by his siblings, but proved right away, his...
BY: MARY PURDY
Chapter 1
A Halloween Christmas
The most loyal being in my life, was born on Halloween, 2014. He was killed the day after The Fourth of July, 2021. He was 49 years old.
We called him,” The Amazing Chirottiweenie”! Titled this due to his breed, a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix, and his coloring, which perfectly matched that of a Rottweiler. Born the runt of his litter, and tough from birth seemingly added to his huge Napoleon complex. He acted like he really WAS a Rottweiler for most of his life, and none of us thought to tell him any different.
He was our daughters dog, but all of us, were his people. And he was our dog, though so much more. He’d had the soul deeper and much more or equal to that of any pure souled human being. We loved him as much as any person that would be a part of your family…We were his pack.
“There is no such thing as a bad dog, only bad owners”, I’ve heard. That, in my opinion, is mostly true. But, there are such things as bad, even terrible, or evil dogs. Every species has this. Humans, canines, squirrel’s, fish- they all have it. Weather it’s due to a mental defect, or absolutely no conscious, basically a psychopath, it in fact happens.
Dogs that eat their own young, or attack other animals, or people once, then again, with no provocation, just for the kill and out of pure evil inside it. Dogs that had good gentle owners, and were loved, at first, but still turned on their masters, because they could. And once they did attack, or kill their intended target, they immediately went on to hunting the next.
This is what happened to Boomer This is a true story. This is Boomers story..
***
“Hey! Do you guys wanna come see the puppies!?”, Santa yelled at us from across the street.
“Awww!, Can we mom!?”, my 13 year old daughter, Ivy- Nickol asked, with of course, pleading puppy dogs eyes.
“No more dog’s,” her father, Ron said, though without much conviction. I could tell he was a bit interested, even though what he said was something we both had agreed on. We already had two dogs, both rescued from owners who were irresponsible, and had basically abandoned them.
“Hooligan”, was our Shepard/ Chow, mix, and my husband’s dog. He was a large, golden, playful dog, with wonderful manners. He would play fetch for hours untill the point we would have to hide his tennis balls, just so we could rest. He would actually drop his balls over our front fence for passing neighbors, and even some strangers to hopefully get them to toss it back over so he could fetch them.
We also had Lue-Lue, our 18 year old son, Ian’s, Scotti/Chihuahua mix. She was also a yellowish, but course haired, fuzzy little dog. We’d gotten her from Ron’s mother, who had gotten her from a neighbor who basically abandoned her. This woman had kept her kenneled almost ninety nine percent of the time, with hardly any food or water, attention, and no training of any kind.
“Can we please just look at them, Mom?”, Ivy asked again. “I don’t have a pet, and you guys all do!”, she pointed out, determined frown lines closing on her brows. Shaking my head, I sighed. “Ok, we can just look”, I said. I pretty much figured we were about to be talked into another dog by her, or “Santa”, our neighbor across the street.
Of course we’d nick-named him this for the obvious reasons. Due to his long white beard, wire rimmed glasses, twinkling eyes, and large round belly, it was fitting. His real name was Gary but we all just called him Santa and he always responded to this.
It was a week after Halloween, 2014, and the hot afternoon air in Phoenix, was barely beginning to hint at Fall. We’d only lived in our house for a few months, but in the neighborhood for a couple of years. We knew a lot of people in the neighborhood, as my daughter went to school one block away, and I usually had walked her everyday. It was an extremely rough and dangerous part of downtown Phoenix, but not all people are bad, so I’d always tried to be polite while in the neighborhood and meeting new people.
I also had recently gotten a job two houses down from ours at a local Circle K, and that of course insured I and my family knew most of the parents, as well as their kids from our neighborhood.
We’d met “Santa”, and his partner, Bonnie, right after we’d moved in, and occasionally, my husband Ron and I, would go across the street with a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette and a chat with them. Ron mostly, but occasionally I joined them.
About two weeks before Halloween, a little black, very pregnant, and obviously abandoned chiweenie dog, had wandered up to Santa and Bonnie’s apartment, and literally invited herself in and adopted them, and their apartment.
Bonnie, a large and slightly disabled, but soft spoken black woman, who was very active in her community church, and always trying to help those in need, humans or otherwise, knew they had to keep her. Especially with the little dog, so obviously ready to have a litter of puppies!
They named her, “Mamma-Dog”, and on Halloween, she had a litter of mixed-up different breeds, of four pups. One female, and three males. All were healthy, including the runt, who was extremely outsized by his siblings, but proved right away, his...
