On December 24, 1998, I was rushing through the Acadiana Mall in Lafayette, LA, trying to get some very last minute Christmas shopping done after a long day at the clinic. I ran into Durel's Pet Shop to get Higgins a dog bone for his stocking, and in the back, I noticed a lonely looking, tiny black cocker spaniel puppy in a cage. I asked the teenaged clerk how old it was.
"He was born on November 10th, so that would make him about 6 weeks old", she said, looking at her watch. "You wanna hold him while you look around?" November 10th was Higgins' birthday too.
And I held him. He fell asleep on my shoulder as I shopped, and I was still holding him as I got to the front register.
"It's $4.19 for the bone, and $412 for the puppy", a different clerk told me.
"OK", I said. And I walked out of the store with Baxter.
I ran into my friend Mindy's husband as I was leaving the mall, carrying a cardboard box with holes in it.
"Is that a puppy?", asked Kirk. "Steve's gonna be pissed!" The enormous responsibility of my impulse buy occured to me at that very moment.
And Kirk was right. I got drove home as the puppy howled in the box. I left him in the car, went inside, and told Steve that I had a surprise for him.
"If it's a puppy, I don't want it. Don't even bring it inside. One dog is enough." He did not even look up from his computer. Steve had been working on his PhD thesis for one year too long. Our marriage was on the rocks. Higgins nodded in agreement from across the room. "I'm serious, Kris, Bring it back."
But it was Christmas Eve, and I could not bring him back, Instead, I made him a little nest in the game room, and whispered in his black, floppy ear. "I promise. I promise that I will always be here for you."
I promised. And I reminded Baxter of this promise every day for almost 14 years.
Baxter was a handful. It took Steve 4 weeks to come around to the idea of another canine mouth to feed, and Higgins 2 years to accept his baby brother. Two months after he joined the family, he came down with sarcoptic mange- or canine scabies - which we ALL got, lost most of his hair, and popped out a Cherry Eye. He was quite possibly the ugliest puppy I have ever seen. The Promise held true, though. The dip that the vet prescribed was not noticeable on his black fur, but it turned Higgins' blond hair a lime green color. Higgins was disgusted. He laid facing the wall, growling, sulking, and GREEN, for the next 2 weeks. Baxter was hyperactive, destructive, needy, and often inconsolable. He clung to me like a wet, smelly blanket.
The following Christmas, I was in the process of making Louisiana gift baskets for my friends and family, and had the supplies stashed in the spare bedroom closet. This included 4 large canisters of Tony Chachere's Cajun Seasoning. Baby B opened the closet and gnawed through several of the canisters, somehow eating cup after cup of very spicy seasoning.. and then proceeded to have explosive diarrhea throughout the entire, carpeted, house. This was just one of his capers.
And then Steve and I separated.
I was gone for several months while we worked out details of our divorce. It was mostly amicable, and I eventually relocated to Nashville. Steve decided to return to Australia, where we had met, and could not take the dogs with him, so we decided that he bring them to me in Nashville. It was one of the most difficult times in my life. At the time, I had just moved here and had no job, was staying on a friend's couch, and was totally broke. Add 2 very active dogs to the equation, dropped off my an ex-husband I was actually starting to mix - but who already had a baby on the way with his new girlfriend - and it was almost more than I could bear. That afternoon, I sat in the bathtub and wept. Both dogs perched their chins on the corner of the tub and looked at me longingly. Baxter, despite his new aversion to water, actually tried to get IN the tub with me. I made another promise that afternoon- we were going to make this work, no matter what. and we did. I found a job the next day, moved into my own place with a best friend the following week, a place that was dog-friendly and comfortable. We were across the street from Love Circle, a beautiful park overlooking Nashville's skyline. My new roommate, Gary, was very kind to The Boys and helped me take care of them. We settled into our new life.
Those of you who know me are aware that I have a dememted sense of humor, and I could not help but personify Baxter and Higgins' lives. While we were roommates, Gary helped me come up with the details. Higgins, more quiet and serious, was an accountant. He drove a Saab, wore a bowtie and smoked a pipe. He listened to Barry Manilow and showtunes, and dated a pom-pom poodle named Lady. They regularly played bridge with her grandmother. Higgins made a good living and was constantly having to bail his delinquent brother Baxter out of jail. Baxter was unemployed, drove a '79 Cutless Supreme dropped low with spinning rims, loved Rick James and Snoop Doggy Dogg, and was dating a mutt named Misty, who worked at the Discount Tobacco and Beer Store. She would answer the phone "D. T. and B!!" Baxter wore FUBU clothes and a gold fang. But he would help out his brother Higgins in a minute, digging in the Taco Bell dumpster for scraps when they were broke. He wasn't proud. We had so much fun coming up with these stories.
Over the next 9 or 10 years, I made Nashville my new home. I moved 4 times, always to someplace nicer. I made some awesome friends, and had a few relationships, some good, some not. The dogs were a big part of my life. They slept with me, or next to the bed when they got too old to hop up with me. They definitely had their moments... Higgins digging in the trash and Baxter howling if he was ever left alone. One visitor we had years ago left a very large joint on the coffee tabnle and Baxter ate it down in one gulp. For the next 3 days, he was asleep on the kitchen floor, his legs moving like he was running as he dreamed. He got the nickname "Dream Pony" that weekend. Baxter was also quite adept at snatching a hot dog or hamburger out of a bun while you were looking the other way. They kept me grounded, though. I needed a rock to hold me in one place for awhile, because I definitely am a vagabond by nature, and they kept me where I needed to be. In 2009, Lowell and I decided that we were serious enough to buy a home together, and The Boys finally had their own backyard again. The following year, Higgins - almost 16 years old, died in the backyard while I was at work. I had just had surgery to remove a melanoma on my right arm, and Lowell was away on business in California. As it was April, the ground was hard and cold, and as I began to dig his grave, one armed, in approximately the spot where I had found him, my friend Doug came to my rescue and helped me to put him in his final resting place. As sad as I was to lose Higgins, the niggling thought in my mind was... how could I handle losing Baxter? He had always been my favorite. I'd heard how dogs who are close would die of grief, closely together. I worked a lot of hours away from the house, and Baxter hated being alone. So, we rescued 2 little gray tabby kittens to keep him company. Hops and Barley quickly became B's new best friends.
Two weeks ago, after I returned from a trip to Mardi Gras, I noticed that Baxter was ageing very quickly. He had gone deaf last year, had runny eyes and a perpetual stink that even the groomer and a dental procedure could not control. His vision also seemed to be failing. He slept most of the time, and wobbled when he walked. He stopped eating solid kibble, so we found a mixture of wet food and canned pumpkin that we spoon fed him. He always perked up when he saw me, though, tail a-wagging, licking my hand. I whispered the Promise in his black, curly-haired ear every day.
Five nights ago, I instinctively knew it was Time. He had had a particularly good day earlier, eating and sunning himself on the patio. I'd even given him a bath outside with some peppermint doggie shampoo. But that night, he was at the door, asking for me. We both just knew. I made myself a bed on the couch next to him, kept my hand on his belly, and prayed as his breathing became more labored. About 15 minutes later, he took his last breath as I had him scooped in my arms. I held onto him for about 20 minutes more, crying and telling him everything would be ok. I hope I am right.
We buried Baxter next to Higgins the following morning. I've ordered some headstones online, and we will plant some rosemary for rememberance in the same spot, too. He was buried with the dog bowl I made for him, 2 hotdogs, his brush, his leash, his collar, a photo of me and Higgins, some cookies, and a cat turd. (Yes, he ate cat turds. Shut up.) Higgins is buried with similar things, and some bubbles, which he loved to snap out of the air.
Hops and Barley have been looking for Baxter for the past few days. I donated his brass dog bed to my friend Michelle's dog Bailey, along with some other goodies for my friend Brandi's girl Lizzie. I cannot handle the responsibility of another dog right now, and I am not about to repeat another impulse buy! But I am so very glad to have known these beautiful, loving creatures, who gave to me so much more than I gave them.
I will miss you always, my Boys.
