Boy

This story is not about me, but my Grandparents.

“It’s time to feed the dogs again.” Grandmother calls from the kitchen as she is cooking us grits and bacon. At six in the morning, I trudge out of bed, grab the bagged food scraps from the counter, and walk to the back door to see Susy and Boy, our dogs, awaiting for the food to arrive.

“Here you go guys. Enjoy.” I voice as I watched Susy and Boy hastily devour the food before them. Susy and Boy share a dog horse in the backyard near a wide oak tree. Normally, during the summer, one can find them laying under the oak tree to get some shade from the heat.

For as long as I can remember, we always had Susy, however Boy was a different story. And this is where the adoption story begins.

“One day I was cutting the grass, and out of nowhere, a Doberman approached me.” Grandpa says, grinning as the thoughts come back to him, “Yes sir, he would stay in the yard for a couple of days before roaming somewhere else.”

I like to think animals have a sixth sense and are very aware of people. Boy was like no other dog my Grandparents or I have encountered. When you tell him to sit, he sits. When you give him a command, he listens. He is a very well trained dog.

Boy roaming around my Grandparents lawn would happen for a couple of weeks. Off and on, Boy would always be outside when my Grandpa was there, like clockwork. Then he would disappear, only to return a few days later.

After a couple more weeks, my Grandpa decided to keep Boy and take him to the backyard to meet Susy. They get acquainted and are kind to one another. Ever since then, Boy has been like family. Months later, Susy has three newborn puppies. We name them Susan, Karla, and Henry.

At this point, my Grandmother starts taking care of the newborn puppies. Once those puppies were inside the house, she kept them bathed and fed until they were older puppies. Then she gave Susan and Henry away to family members that wanted dogs. Karla stayed with us and once she was old enough, she went to live outside with her parents. Those were the only kids Boy and Susy had.

Time wore on and Grandpa always had Boy by his side. During the summer months, when I would stay at their house, I would hear my Grandpa call out to Boy in the crack of dawn. Boy would rush to my Grandpa’s side and stay by him while he was working in the yard. It is not until my Grandpa would grow tired and needed a rest that only then Boy would return to his dog house and lay down.

Grandpa loved Boy. But when he called out to Boy one morning, Boy did not show up. Curious, my Grandpa walked over to the dog house and found Boy very sick. Grandpa rushed Boy to the vet. The vet then gave Grandpa the sad news. Boy was dying.

“I did not know what to do when I heard the news, “ Grandpa says, tears running down his face, “ After having a moment, the best thing to do was to not let him suffer anymore. I gave him one last pat on the back before saying goodbye.”

My Grandpa would return home, alone. He was ridden with sadness at the loss of his best friend. There was no other dog like Boy, and it struck my Grandpa to his core. It would take months for my Grandpa to recover from that loss.

Boy was a great dog. He will be missed.