Sir Fig Newton Bernard Smith - Our Puppy

I am not even sure where to start this………… just a few hours ago we made the decision that ended our little puppy’s suffering.  Bride and I have laughed and cried most of the afternoon and evening, remembering his idiosyncratic behaviors.  He has been not well for some time but we made him a promise, as we have with all our pets, that we would not make them suffer at the end to satisfy our own conscience - We promised to keep his best interests at heart, not our own.  This was the third pet that we had to make that decision and surprisingly to me – it has gotten harder with each one.

Newton led the most idyllic life that any dog could, from the moment Bride picked him up from the breeder all the way through this afternoon.   Bride and one of her best friends tracked him down in Georgia.  He was a malshapened mess as far as the AKC standards for his breed, which is a non-sporting class.  We would tease him about that all the time.  Bride sold me on the idea of a dog, we were cat people, because he was supposed to be only 12 pounds.  A friend of ours Parents had a Boston called Cookie and I said, well if we get one it can’t be a cookie, it has to be a Newton.  That was how his name came about.  He was 8 pounds at age 8 weeks so when he brought him home I knew we were in trouble.  Bride kept telling me that the max they ever get is 24 pounds, well that is the largest they can be and still show them, it is NOT how big they can get.  Newton shot past 24 pounds like a rocket on his way to 45, where he topped out.

Newton went by many names over the years, Newton of course but there were many iterations of his name we used.   The was the Bomber, the neutron Bomber, burnsey, nubes, nubie-dean, butt ugly shitbird (only I called him that).   There was Nubie-dubie, but we never did anything with fig part of his name.  And we wonder why he never listened, I guess I understand that a little better now.    

I remember the one time he got out, the door was cracked just an inch or two and he rammed through and out he went.  I chased that damn dog for nearly two hours, running through people’s front yards, through their back yards and all over the place.  He would not listen to me, I suspect he knew he was going get spanked for that transgression so he wanted to prolong it.  He was smart like that, he knew when he was doing something wrong.  It makes me laugh because there were a million times he would do that, only the once outside the back yard.  When I would ask him to come in, he would stop what he was doing and then look at me for a few seconds, then he would just on about what he was doing.  It was a conscience decision to disobey.      

I remember once when he did make me proud, no keep in mind he is a Boston Terrier, a large Boston but a Boston all the same.  The neighbor kid was walking their dog, who stood taller than the little boy who was walking him.  We had our front door open and all the blocked Newton from Max, the neighbor’s dog, was a thin and flimsy screen door.  Well Max came hauling ass across our front yard, dragging the boy with him.  When he hit the bottom of the front door he came right through into our foyer.  Well Newton tore Max’s ass up, ripped his ear nearly off and had bite marks in various places, Newton was completely unscathed.  I was proud of him for protecting his home.  

One of the things that made me laugh is when he would turning his back on us.  If for some reason he was not getting his way he would walk across the room and turn his back to us and then occasionally look over his shoulder and whimper.  if he did not get enough of a treat, he would do it.  If we would not let him under the covers, he would do it.  If he thought he was not getting any and everything he was due, that little punk would do that.  It was hilarious and most times I suppose it worked because he usually got what he wanted.   

When we were at the Vet’s office all the folks there were crying as much as we were, they loved and he loved going there.  He made that trip at least once a month to get a bath, nails trimmed, ear cleaned and his anal glands expressed.   He was always happy to see them and they were happy to see him.  There have been lots of adjectives over the years that were used to describe him, by the folks at the Vet and all our friends as well. 

I saw a woman on the beach this morning, I see her all the time.  She walks her three little dogs every morning.  A few day ago when I saw her she only had two, I asked what had happened and she told me he was misbehaving and was in timeout - that made me laugh.  Anyway, I saw her this morning and she was all bundled up and had all three dogs.  They were each bundled up as well, little matching sweaters that covered them up.  It reminded me of one time when Bride got one of those for Newton.  He hated it and when she made him wear it he would look at me with the look of – really, come on Dad save me from this embarrassment.  Eventually I made sure that it disappeared when it was warm out so the next time it got cold, it was just gone. 

I went to the beach this morning and it was cold, 39 degrees.  As I sat in the dark starting at 5:30 I just remembered Newton and his life.  There I was sitting on the beach in a lawn chair, alone, bundled up in multiple layers, in the dark, missing my dog and crying to myself.  I am not sure what someone would have thought if they came up me but then again, I really didn’t care.  Newton was a great dog and brought more joy to our lives then should have been allowed.  He was spoiled rotten and he knew it, but as Bride says, we did not get a dog to show him what disciplinarians we are.  As the skies lightened, it was mostly gray, I realized that I just wanted to be sad for a while and got up and left.