And I do have a new puppy now. It was an easy decision as the new girl, Ella, is not at all a replacement for Liz. There is no such thing. But I needed some life around this house other than me.
Anyway ... on with Lizzie's story.
I learned very quickly that not only was Lizzie energetic and adorable and mischievous, but she was SMART. If she saw a toy or scrap of food or anything you tried to hide from her, she would and could remember exactly where it was hours later and go there as soon as you left the room. So eventually I was forced to put everything "up" -- either on a counter, in the closet, on the dining table, on the entertainment center. Nothing could be kept anywhere near Lizzie's level or she would remember it and find it at the first opportunity. A couple of years into our life together, when I had started working a full-time job with regular hours, I began to notice that instead of whining when I left in the mornings, Lizzie seemed almost excited. I don't know exactly how I could tell, but she seemed to be waiting for me to head out for work.
So one morning I went through the routine, locked the door, and pretended to walk away. I waited just a few minutes and ever so softly eased the key back into the door, unlocked it, and stormed back in the house. And where was Lizzie? Standing, on all fours, directly in the center of my dining table. How she got up there I have no idea. How she got up there so quickly I have no idea. But it was obviously planned in advance. I mean, she knew the second I left she was going to get up on that table and see what was up there. But what was even more hilarious, when she saw me, she completely and utterly froze. It was literally as if she was holding her breath. She didn't blink an eye, twitch a nose, wag a tail, nothing. I guess she thought if she just stood completely still I wouldn't be able to see her. I can still picture her in my mind though. So funny.
I believe I only tried to take Liz to Town Lake once. She was a weirdo and scared of so many things. My primary memory of that trip is that Lizzie WOULD NOT walk over the pedestrian bridge. I guess she felt under her feet that it was different and it scared her to death. I would pull and push and beg and plead, but no way was she walking across. So, every time we came to the bridge, I had to pick her up and carry her all the way across.
I'll end with her funniest, grossest, and most infamous story (I apologize in advance for the indelicate nature of this tale -- do not read if you are eating or have a weak stomach).
I came home from work one afternoon and as I walked across the balcony toward my apartment, I smelled the most awful scent. I was thinking, "Damn, someone let their dog shit right at my front door." But I didn't see anything. So I opened my door and went in and almost fell to the ground because of the smell. A huge congealed puddle of dog crap was right in the middle of my den floor. It was about the size of a large cast-iron skillet.
Now tell me, when was the last time your dog crapped so bad that the smell actually penetrated the walls and door and made its way outside? I bet it has never happened. Well, it happened to me. And why did I describe the crap as congealed you ask? Because Lizzie dragged a jar of Vaseline off my bathroom counter and ate it. So what I had, in essence, was shit-flavored Vaseline all over my den floor. Can you imagine anything harder to clean up? I had to stuff my nostrils with toilet paper just to get close enough to the mess to start cleaning. And by the end of the week I had new carpet -- there was no other alternative.
Lizzie was freaking the hell out. She didn't have a clue what was happening. She was going to the bathroom non-stop, but it would drizzle out & make little popping bubble noises which scared her to death. Never have I seen a dog scare herself by going to the bathroom. She would hunker down to go, but then the bubbly noises would start and she would start yelping and take off like a bullet as if something was chasing her. She did this for days until the last of the Vaseline was finally out of her system.
Yes, it is disgusting, but it was certainly among the defining moments of Lizzie's life, and it is a story I will remember as long as I am on this earth.
You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us. ~Robert Louis Stevenson
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