Major, My Mentor

I needed joy. That's why I got Major.

The description said he was a Boxer-Lab-Terrier mix, and he was the last of his litter. His mom was a stray one-eyed boxer that showed up pregnant and gave birth to a litter of Dachshund-looking dogs except for one, "Ranger," they called him, was the lone puppy left.

I made arrangements to go pick him up. I lived in Toronto with my boyfriend, Derek, at the time. We were both from small towns two hours east, and we would be picking my dog up at the Tim Hortons parking lot of Derek's hometown. Weird.

We made the trip and headed to my dog. I say 'my' dog because Derek didn't really want a dog, but I needed a dog. So I got one.

We get to the Tim Hortons parking lot and pay the $200 adoption fee. We changed his name to Major, and he rode home on Derek's lap in the passenger seat. I was so happy I was fighting back the tears. Pure joy. I don't remember another time when joy made me cry.

At this moment, bringing Major home - this moment of pure joy is everything I needed in my life. I was 31 years old, no kids, my family life was hard, my career had blown up, my relationship was on the rocks, and my heart was exploding for this little guy.

We drove to my parents' house, not realizing my sister was there with her boxer. As we get out of the car and I finally get to hold my sweet baby Major, her boxer comes running out of the house in his goofy, friendly way and scares the piss out of Major. Yes, Major pisses all over me. I am officially his.

We clean up, and I introduce him to his new life. Or at least a piece of it because Marmora is nothing like Toronto, but Marmora would definitely be a part of his life. Major followed me around like a lemming all day. He didn't want me out of his sight. The only time I saw Major swim willingly was on that very first day. We drank "Tuesday Afternoons" and floated on some pool noodles in the river. Major, a little 3-month-old puppy, swam right out to me. He realized then that he wasn't a swimmer, not because he couldn't, but he didn't like it. Major would become a shore hunter instead.

Now, I promised Derek my dog would be well trained. He wouldn't get up on the furniture, and he would sleep in a crate at night. But alas, he wined and wined. So I took him out, just for that first night. I mean, he's away from his mom for the first time... So I brought him to bed and put him on top of me. He started suckling my belly. Damn, what a cute little guy.

After that weekend, we head home to Toronto. I was self-employed, so I had all the time in the world. I found a trainer that came to our condo to give us personal training. We were basing many of our behavioral conversations around the breeds we were told he was: boxer, lab, terrier. Until we did a DNA test, we didn't know that he was actually Irish Setter, Airedale Terrier, Beagle, Poodle, Cocker Spaniel.

Major looked like he was made of spare parts.

The real reason I needed a dog was that my mom was dying of cancer, and I needed a source of joy to help me through that period. Derek and I would end up moving back to Marmora to help take care of my mom. It was the most challenging experience of my life. But Major helped me through it. He gave me a reason to get up early enough to go on a walk before heading to my mom's house for the day. Those days were really rough on my family and me. Mom was deteriorating in front of us. For my father and me, it happened slowly. But when my siblings would come to visit, they would see drastic changes. It was a sad time.

I spent a lot of time in the woods with Major. I often referred to nature as my church. I needed him to take me there every day. After mom passed, we would go for long walks twice a day. I would watch him loving the wild in his excited terrier way. There were so many precious moments in those woods. I remember one time a fox messing with him. I stayed in one spot while the fox toyed with Major, forcing him to chase him in circles. I remember the first time I felt peace after mom passed; two bluejays followed us as we walked our loop, playing together. I had told mom before she died that her brother would be waiting for her, and the birds reminded me of how the two would be laughing together, free of pain and fear and full of mobility, just like the birds. I remember porcupines, baby moose, so many deer, and animals that make a day memorable. If I didn't have Major, I know I wouldn't have experienced those healing moments.

He was my life partner for eight short years. I took him everywhere with me.

Suddenly, his terrier instincts betrayed him and he was hit by a car. We said a painful goodbye and he took that rainbow bridge to heaven. I believe he was sent here to help me when I needed him most. I am so thankful for his help and I think about him every day. My sweet, good boy, Major.