Life With Bailey

Bailey was the best dog. Ever. I think everyone says that about their dog. It's hard to think of just one story he and I had together. I lived my life always looking for the next adventure, so we moved a lot. He always adjusted so well. This dog was unlike any other, and boy was he smart. In fact, he was smarter than some people I know! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Bailey was a Toy Poodle, black with peanut butter paws and peanut butter-colored hair above his eyes so it looked like he had eyebrows! And a little beard around his snout. By the time he was three, the tan-colored parts had turned silver, but he remained just as handsome. It was almost like how certain men of a certain age become known as a "Silver Fox." But I digress.

Fully grown, Bailey weighed eight pounds. He was not some "yippy" dog or "ankle-biter" as some people refer to the smaller breed of dogs that imply they are mean. Once someone spent even a few minutes with Bailey, they knew he was different.

Years ago, I met a cute surfer who wanted to teach me how to surf. I had already been taking Bailey to the beach and knew how much he loved it. When I suggested bringing him to my lesson, the guy laughed, saying the idea of a toy poodle at the beach was silly to him. I think he referred to Bailey as a "foo-foo" dog. Clearly, he did not know my dog. Ten minutes on the beach with him the next day, and the surfer boy yelled down the beach to me, "We are never coming to the beach without him again! This dog is so cool!"

At dog-friendly Juno Beach, Florida, Bailey would let us get set up with our beach blanket, coolers, chairs, and boards. Once we were settled, he would leisurely trot over to a neighboring blanket and say hello. He would be met with loving greetings of "Why hello there!" Bailey would then be off to another nearby blanket. He wouldn't go far, eventually coming back to our spot. One day, someone said to me, "Your dog is like the mayor of the Dog Beach! He just goes around shaking hands and saying hello to everyone!"

Bailey was the fastest dog on the beach. Whether he was chasing the football being thrown twenty yards between two beachgoers or jumping three feet off the ground to catch a frisbee, he was fast! He had no fear. He would chase a tennis ball into the ocean waves as if he were a golden retriever. People couldn't believe he was a poodle. (Most people don't know that poodles are water dogs).

We once passed a girl who was dragging her Great Dane through the sand to put his paws in the water. Poor thing. He was sitting down with all four of his paws pushed out in front of him trying to dig in. She looked at my tiny dog splashing in the waves, shook her head, and said, "This is so embarrassing." It was pretty funny (and no, she didn't force her dog to go in since he was afraid of the water).

Bailey was so worried about me when I was out surfing. Or maybe he just wanted to surf too! While I was in the water, I would keep him on his leash connected to the chair. Otherwise, he would've tried to come in after me! Eventually, we brought him out there on my board, but I was too scared to bring him out where we caught the sets rolling in. He was only eight pounds after all. So I kept him in a few feet of water and put him on the board and he rode in on the tail end of a wave (ha...tail! See what I did there?) He loved it!

We got to the shore, his balance amazing, and he walked toward the end of the board as if to hang ten. But there was no wax on the tip of the board, so he slipped off, and under the water he went. Plop! Before I could freak out, he popped right back up, looking shocked, his paws grabbing at the slick yellow surfboard to get right back on. I just scooped him up and hugged him, so proud of my little surfer boy. He then went and found his spot where he nestled himself in the cool sand behind the back of my favorite beach chair that provided perfect shade for him.

We loved that beach. We spent every Saturday and Sunday there, sometimes even making it in time for the spectacular sunrise. Then there came a time I wanted to enjoy the sunsets of Key West, so I quit my job and moved there. Yep. I was that chick.

We lived on "the rock" as locals refer to the actual Southernmost island, where Bailey would ride around in the basket of my bicycle sporting my alma mater's "Florida Gators" sun visor. We frequently took trips up to one of the numerous islands North of it, called Big Pine Key. If you have ever visited the Keys, you know that you are in Big Pine when you see all the signs reminding you the speed limit is 20 miles per hour due to the Key Deer. These adorable deer are a subspecies of the white-tailed deer, just a smaller version, and are on the endangered species list.

Bailey was well-behaved and would never run off. So when I saw him take off at super-speed across the yard from where we were standing, I knew he had to have seen something that piqued his interest. I of course ran after him but as I rounded the corner stopped dead in my tracks. About ten yards in front of me I saw the most amazing sight. It was so beautiful, yet terrifying at the same time. There stood Bailey nose-to-nose with a male Key Deer. He had to be about 80 pounds with colossal antlers with at least eight points. The size of his hooves looked enormous next to my tiny boy.

The deer was magnificent, almost mammoth-like compared to a toy poodle. I knew he could be very dangerous to Bailey, who just wanted to play with this fun, curious new friend. I spoke slowly and softly. "That's my baby. Don't you hurt him. He's my baby." The deer looked at me, slowly turned back to Bailey, then back to me as if he understood. He backed up in slow motion, then went back toward the other deer nearby. Relieved, I called to Bailey and he playfully pranced over to me as if to say, "Did you see me, Mommy? Did you see my new playmate?" I'm telling you, this dog had no fear.

From Key West, I took a job selling Harley Davidson bikes in Northern California, just outside of Napa Valley. Bailey and I hopped a plane and flew non-stop from Ft. Lauderdale to San Francisco. He had to be in a carrier, but he never made a peep the whole flight. What a good boy! He knew we were off on our next adventure.

The hotel we stayed at did not allow dogs. My outgoing personality was enough to talk the manager into meeting Bailey. She immediately fell in love, which I knew would happen. I was so grateful. The next morning, I went down to breakfast and the manager, Jessica, asked me why Bailey wasn't with me. I replied that I figured I shouldn't bring him around food, let alone other guests. She told me it wasn't a problem and from then on Bailey was expected at breakfast. They even made waffles for him in the waffle maker!

We were in the lobby once, Jessica on the floor playing with Bailey, and a lady walked in and said, "Oh good! You allow dogs here." Jessica replied, "No ma'am, we don't allow pets here." The lady looked confused. "But..." her voice trailed off as she looked at Bailey. "Oh, no. That's not a pet. That's Bailey." Jess smiled and let the lady leave, still unsure of what just happened. But that's the effect Bailey had on people.

We stayed at that hotel for four months. We loved it there. (In fact, Jess and I still talk to this day). Bailey loved charging down the hallway at full speed, turning down the staircase, and waiting at each landing for me to catch up. He would pounce around chasing the bunnies, again finding new animals to play with. I wonder what he thought of them, and how he compared them to chasing the bright green iguanas that would sun themselves on our seawall in Ft. Lauderdale. Or with the geese who would honk at him in the snow in Cincinnati!

We eventually made our way back to where I was raised - St. Pete Beach, Florida. I decided to add to my sweet family of two (me and Bailey) and I had my beautiful little girl - my Sweet Savannah Grace. Bailey adored her from the moment he saw her. He never left her side. (I'm looking for the picture of him laying on my eight-month-of-pregnancy tummy, where I know he felt her heartbeat.) They were inseparable.

There are so many other funny, amazing, and love-filled memories we have of Bailey. He was my true love, my partner-in-crime for fifteen years. He never acted sick, just slowed down for about a month - and I knew.

We went to the beach and watched a glorious sunset...and that night he went to sleep and did not wake up.

I was heartbroken of course, but I knew that Bailey lived a full and meaningful life - full of adventure and love. We can learn many lessons from the way Bailey lived his life. He's a wonderful inspiration for acceptance of all, regardless of the many differences that exist between us. His openness to others - extending a paw to introduce himself and make a new friend, whether human or animal. He never knew how small he was, he just followed his big heart. He truly had no fear and tried new things. And of course, his genuine love of children and his loyal friendship to me. He kept all of my secrets.

Bailey sets the perfect example for us - falling off that surfboard does not mean you must sink. It means you get right back up there to be ready to catch that next wave...

Savannah and I think of him often, telling "tails" of his life that were such a big part of ours. And we blow kisses to him, wherever he is - maybe he's even mastering the art of surfing...