One day, in 1994, my parents gave me and my sister a choice: a new dog or a trampoline. That Christmas we got a tiny sheltie-shaped ball of fur with an attitude. I wanted to name him Billie Joe (I was really into Green Day at the time), but my dad insisted on naming him Murray Von Staunch.
Shelties are very loyal dogs, usually to one person in particular. Murray quickly latched on to me. I brought him to school with me, even though it was against the rules. But no one minded - he had magical Cute Powers. He even acted alongside me in our highschool production of You Can't Take it With You and was featured in our yearbook.
I missed two years of his life when I moved to Southern California for college, but after that Murray moved with me everywhere: from San Diego, back to the Bay Area, to Los Angeles, and finally to Portland. He was always my right hand dog. I had planned to get a place with a yard for chickens, so that Murray could once again engage in his most favourite activity: Chicken chasing.
Murray may have been the smallest Sheltie ever, at 10lbs. I had planned to enter him into the Smallest Sheltie contest during Sheltie Daze. Murray and I had met a previous winner, while on a walk, and Murray was much smaller than her.
On a sunny day in the summer of 2009, Murray had a seizure. Worried, Boyfriend and I took him to the vet, who recommended a neurologist, who recommended a cardiologist, who told us that Murray had an incurable infection in his heart. He gave us antibiotics and painkillers to help extend Murray's life as long as we could.
I couldn't fool Murray into taking his pills (not even cheese or peanut butter worked). I couldn't force Murray to take his pills. Eventually I had to give up, because it had gotten to the point where Murray wouldn't even eat his food, convinced there were pills hiding inside his kibbles.
On Thursday September 10, 2009, Murray succumbed to heart failure. He was nearly 15 years old. It was the end of an era. He and I had been together since I was in the 7th grade. Sometimes I still expect to see him staring at me whenever I open a bag of chips.
I missed two years of his life when I moved to Southern California for college, but after that Murray moved with me everywhere: from San Diego, back to the Bay Area, to Los Angeles, and finally to Portland. He was always my right hand dog. I had planned to get a place with a yard for chickens, so that Murray could once again engage in his most favourite activity: Chicken chasing.
Murray may have been the smallest Sheltie ever, at 10lbs. I had planned to enter him into the Smallest Sheltie contest during Sheltie Daze. Murray and I had met a previous winner, while on a walk, and Murray was much smaller than her.
On a sunny day in the summer of 2009, Murray had a seizure. Worried, Boyfriend and I took him to the vet, who recommended a neurologist, who recommended a cardiologist, who told us that Murray had an incurable infection in his heart. He gave us antibiotics and painkillers to help extend Murray's life as long as we could.
I couldn't fool Murray into taking his pills (not even cheese or peanut butter worked). I couldn't force Murray to take his pills. Eventually I had to give up, because it had gotten to the point where Murray wouldn't even eat his food, convinced there were pills hiding inside his kibbles.
On Thursday September 10, 2009, Murray succumbed to heart failure. He was nearly 15 years old. It was the end of an era. He and I had been together since I was in the 7th grade. Sometimes I still expect to see him staring at me whenever I open a bag of chips.
<3 Murray rules.
ReplyDeleteMurray was an awesome dog. And you know me. I'm not even INTO dogs.
ReplyDelete