Senior Moments
Charles P. Eberson
A Guest’s Column by Memphis Eberson
My life as a dog came to an end this past September 7th after 12 joyous years with my human parents, Charles and Rubye. I felt fine until just a few days before but then became suddenly tired and did not have the energy to move at all. My parents took me to the vet where they performed some tests and then let us leave. Once in the car, they both started sobbing and hugging me. We got home and they gave me some medications and then cooked a hamburger just for me after which I took a long nap. I was just so tired. Over the next couple days, they cooked for me, gave me ice cream which was a treat and helped me when I had to go outside. When I no longer had the strength to get up, we went back to the vet. My dad had to carry me in. At 66 pounds, this was no easy task but I knew I could always depend on him. I met with the vet again and after some alone time with my parents, she gave me a shot and I went to sleep. Now in doggy heaven, I reflect on the awesome life I was so fortunate to have since the beginning started so ominously. I was just a young pup in Louisiana when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. I was moved from place to place until I ended up in a house in Memphis, Tennessee with about 20 other dogs. The Humane Society stepped in and disbursed us to shelters all over. I was sent to the Ocean County Humane Society. There were so many dogs and the barking never stopped. I couldn’t wait to get out of that place. Finally a mother and a daughter came in and took a look at me. I saw my chance, hopped into the mother’s lap and pressed my head against her chest. I gave them no choice. In a matter of a few minutes, I had my own family and was heading to my own house in Ventnor. I never dreamed I would be treated so well and made a promise to myself that I would be the best dog ever. My duty became protecting them from anything that may be a threat and I took on that role with fervor. When anyone came anywhere near them, I bared my teeth, raised the hair on my back and barked as ferociously as I could. People who came into my house nervously covered their nether regions and were encouraged to avoid eye contact. I never really bit anyone, though. Well, except for the FEMA guy who came to the house to file a claim on our behalf after Hurricane Sandy hit. When he came to the door, dad put me upstairs. How could I protect anyone from up here? I barked so much he had to open the door. I bolted passed him, saw a stranger sitting at our dining room table and promptly chomped down on his forearm. It was more of a bite and release but the FEMA guy was checking himself for damage. It looked like he was more concerned with the condition of his North Face jacket that any injury to his arm. He finished our claim quickly and assured us there would be no problem. My parents loved to travel and brought me with most of the time. Due to the traumatic conditions of my youth, my parents resolved to never put me in a kennel. They would say “want to go for a ride,” open the door to the van and I would take up my spot between the seats. We would go camping, go to crew races, hiking or even just to the beach where I would chase seagulls until they were out of reach. I don’t know why I did that. I wouldn’t know what to do if I ever caught one. I certainly wouldn’t want to hurt it. At the end of the day, there would always be a spot for me at the foot of the bed or sometimes on cool nights, I would even burrow between them nuzzling up for some space on the pillow. They would roll their eyes, pull the covers up and I would show my appreciation with a big sigh. My mom and dad had great friends, too. They would come over for a visit making it look like they wanted to see my folks but often times I knew they wanted to see me. I would lick their faces until they fell over laughing and made me stop. After a rough beginning of my life, I have to say I was really fortunate. I had my pack who nurtured and loved me. Now with Hurricanes Harvey and Irma wreaking devastation, I am sure there will be many homeless pets to be cared for and I don’t want to see any of them up here before their time. Hopefully, many of them will be cared for with the same love and devotion I have been over the past 12 years. I had a good life.
