RIP Reggie

I was never a dog person. Ever. I am still not a dog person. When I was younger, I was kind of attacked by a dog and it traumatized me greatly. When I say attacked, I mean a very large dog of a family friend jumped on top of me and I freaked out and never forgot the fear that I felt at that moment. This created a fear of dogs that lasted up until about middle school and just became a dislike for dogs later on in life (not to mention the fact that I was super allergic to many dogs as well which I obvi used as an excuse to mask my fear/dislike). However, the fact that I really wasn't fond of dogs did not stop my parents from getting a dog when I was a sophomore in high school.  My brother had wanted one forever, and they finally got him one. A Wheaton Terrier we named Reggie. I was so upset that they got a dog for real that I hid out in my room for about a week. That's right, I was 16 years old and hid from a little puppy. I ate all my meals in there with the door closed. I mean, really? What did I think I was accomplishing? I also even pretended that I was allergic to Reggie (mind you, he was hypoallergenic). I faked sneezed and excessively blew my nose for a good couple days even though my parents never bought it. I couldn't believe they were actually keeping Reggie even though I held my ground. After avoiding Reggie for about two weeks I finally embraced this little bundle of fur. Even I couldn't argue how freaking adorable he was. As annoying as his constant barking was, and the fact he was not yet potty trained, I began to love him. I fought the urge as long as I could as to not make my initial stand against him looked ridiculous. But it was ridiculous and my family still makes fun of me today for my immature behavior. Especially since I have grown to love Reggie so so much.

Rewind to almost 14 years later, Reggie is old. He is not his old spunky, spry self. Still as adorable as ever, Reggie is just not who he use to be. The time finally came where we had to decide if he needed to be put down. His health had deteriorated and he just wasn't the same dog anymore. As someone who is fortunate enough to have gone through little loss in life, I am not totally equipped to handle situations like this. I was obviously inconsolable. I went from the girl that didn't want the dog, to the girl who couldn't handle losing the dog. I mean, a sobbing mess. My, how times have changed.

Over the last few days as Reggie's health really took a turn for the worst, we remembered some of the great times with him....
The time he ate my inhaler and I noticed his chest was beating really, really fast and he had to be rushed to the ER....
Or the time that he decided to go on a little adventure after a big snowstorm around the neighborhood and some random people found him and brought him home...
Or the fact that he never learned how to play fetch. We'd throw the ball, he'd run and get it and bring it back, but then would never let go...
Or the fact that we'd mention the word "car ride" and he'd run to the garage door ready for an adventure even though we used it against him many times...
Or the time he pooped on the putting green in the basement because he thought it was real grass...
And even the time that I was playing with him in the backyard and after stepping on a nail, sat down to get it out, not realizing I sat in a big pile of his poop. When I got up and realized something was on my shorts, I of course, smelled it, and then started screaming, crying, dry-heaving, and finally laughing at the gross ridiculousness that just occurred. Oh, did I mention I didn't have underwear under my shorts so I just couldn't take them off right away? Yeah, I know he was laughing inside during that one along with everyone else.

There were so many things that Reggie did that we will never forget. He was our only family pet and we had him about half my and my brother's life so he was obviously a big part of it. Even though I haven't lived at "home" for years, I still considered Reggie my dog. He was just another part of my family that I was excited to see whenever I visited.

Reggie, even though I fought your presence at first, you changed me. You didn't quite make me a dog person. Not even close. But you made me love YOU. And you loved me back. No matter what. I don't know if I can emotionally handle ever getting a dog again because of the pain of losing you, but if I do, it will be another spunky Wheaton like yourself. RIP Reggie. We will miss you.