My Dog Fred

Fred entered my life when I was a freshman in High School, around October of 2005 I believe. He was a beautiful Boston Terrier, with an adorable round head, and a very delicate manner about him. He quickly absorbed the neuroticism of his new family, & by the time of his death, was a very nervous, particular, loud, & pretty much obnoxious dog. He would bark constantly to go outside, & we would give him treats when he went to the bathroom outside. This was how we originally trained him. Fred knew what he was doing, & he knew what he liked, which was treats. In & out he went, all day! If he did not get what he want, he knew what to do! Bark! & all day you would hear him. Not for just reasons of wanting to get a treat, but also responding to other dogs, people walking by the house, or any of his family members coming home.

This is typical-- Fred with his head out the
 window, & Coco in her own world

He was such a delicate little dog. He was mostly a black-brindle mix over his entire body, with a streak through the front down his head, & then also white on his belly and tipping the bottom of each of his feet. He had a walk that was more like a prance, so much different from the clobbing thump of our French Bulldog, Coco-T. She was named after the Reality Star with fake boobs, the wife of rapper Ice-T. I'm still not really sure why this was the namesake my family bestowed upon her.

We often found them in this position.
Coco has lost her friend & companion

                            I talked with my mom & she said that Coco is clearly, visibly sad after his absence. She walks around the house, looking for her friend that had been here her entire life. This must be a severe trauma for her. Even when they were boarded & we went on trips, they would be together. She may be quite dense, but it seems she is realizing he is not coming back. It is such a shame, especially because friends of mine have dogs that are thriving at age 11, age 14. I was going to visit Maryland in just a little over a month to host a birthday party for myself & engage in a whirlwind tour of friends & acquaintances up there. I keep thinking that if he could have held on just a bit longer, I would have been able to spend some time with him. Even more regrettably for me, I did have a few hours where I could have used the Facetime programme on my iphone to see him alive, one last time. Or I could have just called. Instead, I went on living my life. I have recently begun an attempted re-invigoration of my social life here in Jacksonville, but also of my professional life creating podcasts. The night before he died, this past Monday, I went over to a new friends house to review a film. I stayed there quite late, & then came home & started editing the audio. It was then I first started to receive notices that Fred was not doing so well. As of late, he had lost control of his bowels & was starting to contort due to spinal disk issues. I can only imagine the horrific sight of my companion, unable to move from some painful spinal contraction. I could only imagine, as it is not something I have to have seen. I could have facetimed, or at least called & just spoke to him. I didn't because I really thought he could make it. I didn't take it as seriously as I should have, & I regret that. Unless there is some super-natural communion that happens, I will be unable to have said goodbye to him.

Summer 2010 (I believe). When Fred was 4 & I was 19

I can picture him in spirit, moving about the house that he lived in, unable to comprehend that his physical body is gone. Knowing him he would just bark & bark, trying to get his human family or Coco's attention. Coco cannot hear anything of even the physical realm, her gigantic, bat-like ears are for show only. Fred is persistent & obsessive and i'm sure he may never give up, always haunting the house where he grew up & lived.

Fred may have tried to extract any amount of treats from me constantly, but he was always there for me; especially when I was at my worst at that, experiencing the crippling symptoms of what at-the-time was considered Major Depression. I wanted to die, no, I felt like I was in fact dead. Fred & Coco can detect when my emotions are on the extreme low end. He would often come sit in my lap and stay with me. He was such a loud snorer I would hear him through the walls & ceilings. He cowered when thunder & lightning were even getting close to approaching. By the time it actually appeared he would be panting & shivering constantly. He was so scared.

It is so hard for me to conceive of him as dead. I still just can't believe it. I am still in the process of coming to terms with my dog's death. It is just so hard to believe that it is over. The last time I saw him was in early January, towards the end of my holiday visit. I don't remember the details of seeing him-- I probably thought it just another unremarkable visit. I don't remember the details; I didn't think I would have to remember the details. I just didn't know.

Here Fred was 6 & I was 21

Believe it or not, barring celebrities, this is the first major loss I have experienced since the death of my Great-Grandmother Florence in 2006. No matter how beloved my Flossy may be, my dog Fred was a much more immediate presence in my life, & really was a constant companion. Like I said, even though I lived in the basement of the house from late 2014 until October 2015, I always heard him-- barking, or running, or snoring & snorting. I simply cannot seem to really accept that he is dead yet. I still remember what his short, bristly hair feels like. It feels so alive in my memory. I cannot believe that he is dead, that he is being cremated, that at this point all of that beautiful fur is just dust. If I cannot accept the death, I can accept the certitude of that which we will all return: ashes to ashes, & dust to dust. The earth is that which we will all return to. Whatever religious belief you subscribe to, your body will decay & become dust & ashes. We will go back to which we have always came from. & in the certain comforting void of death I can take solace. For whatever reason, in my nihilist mind, after experiencing the ravages of a thousand daily deaths living with depression. I have already felt like I have been dead or a returned member of the once-dead for several years. I may think that I am afraid of death, & my mental illness often fools me into thinking just that. But, in truth, it is the prospect of continued life that fears me. What is hell but a place we can visit on earth? I have been there. My friends have been there. Many humans have lives that truly can fit that description very much here on this earth, & they have been through much more than any fire-&-brimstone two-bit theologian could dream up. There is nothing supernatural about hell- about the Gulag, about brutality, about Christian persecutions, about genocide.

2013, I believe

Fred, I am so sorry that I never got a chance to say goodbye to you. While you were certainly one of the most annoying beings I have ever known, you were a great companion. I know you truly loved me, & Coco, & my family. You were beautiful & we loved you back. I would have loved to come home & pet you & nuzzle you one last time before you were taken away to death. I'm so sorry I couldn't have been there as you exited this life, one that I was so much a part of. I wish I could have been there. I have thought a little bit in these past days of some of what I would say to you-- I would want to tell you how much you have meant to me in my adolescence & that I will always appreciate your companionship. Thank you for several years of gracing me with your presence. I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you go.

I couldn't say it irl, so I will say it now: Goodbye friend

This is the last picture of Fred I took. We are at our grandparent's home. I don't remember this. I never knew I would need to