Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Back in 1998 I was walking around the Saturday Market and there on the grass was a couple of hippies with a box of puppies. They were all crawling over the top of each other and stepping on heads and tails. And in the middle was a beautiful golden puppy who didn't really look like his half pit-bull litter-mates (we never did know what the other half was). I was instantly in love and, though I had no plans for a dog, he came home with us.
We brought him home and we had trouble picking out a name. He was a very lazy puppy but he was half pit-bull so we knew he might not always be so lazy. We needed a name that would suit him either way. A friend jokingly suggested that if he was so lazy he should be named Thorazine and I said that Thor could work if he grew out of the lazy (he didn't) and he was so named.
When he was a few months old he accidentally knocked my small niece down and got a scolding and ever since that day he scaled his playing to the human's size. He would be tough on an adult but he was incredibly gentle with children. They would pull on his ears and try to sit on his back and he would just look at us with eyes pleading for it to stop but he never nipped. Not once. If the kids jumped on the trampoline he was right there with them, hopping along and loving it.
If you left your drink (especially a beer) anywhere he was, it was guaranteed to be knocked over and drank. Food on the floor was his domain but off of a table he just didn't touch it.
When I brought my son home from the hospital Thor spent the entire night trying to investigate this new and strange noise. He almost tipped him from the crib a few times, tried to cuddle him anytime he was down low and cried when you locked him from the room. Thor and Joe grew up together and that dog was loved.
Never was there a more faithful companion. He was a dear friend of many years. And yesterday we lost him to those years. Thor had a good 13 years and I am thankful for the friend we had for so long.