86) Oliver and Stanley

The way I see the world, there are two kinds of people: those who love dogs and everyone else.

Oliver and Stanley were my dogs (Stanley is still alive) beginning in 1997.

Welcome to my autobiography. I am glad you are here!

In many of my posts, including the last, you have read about my work assignments as a contract mask designer. In this post, I want to tell you about two wise and wonderful dogs that received our love, affection and sometimes our wrath during the last 14 years.

Oliver was happy, stubborn and dominant little bichon  who demanded every ounce of energy and attention from you during waking hours. In return, he gave us everything he had to give. He was a biter and was observed to have nipped Jenner as she tried to leave the house as a teen-ager. He bit Nadine who tried to take back the food he sometimes stole from our plates. And he bit a girl scout at our door as she was trying to sell cookies. Oliver wasn’t mean, just dominant and possessive. Although a small dog, I never saw  him back down from anyone or anything.

Then, very suddenly, Oliver died in our arms on Father’s Day of 2007.  I took it hard and grieved for weeks  following Ollies’ passing. We spread his ashes into the ocean along the beach in the Marina district of San Francisco, where Nadine and I used to do our daily runs to the Golden Gate Bridge.

Stupid dog. Every once in a while I call out his name – just the way I used to – to try to feel what I was feeling when he was in our lives. Nothing.

I’d welcome back the time he would keep us awake pacing back and forth across the foot of our bed at night to get water. We’d curse and sometimes kick him – until we found  out he had a rare disease that caused him to be thirsty all of the time.

Darn dog.

I still miss you Oliver!

Do you sometimes categorize people as “animal lovers”?

Next: Stanley

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