[Critique Group 1] reminder: pieces due tomorrow . Mine is below

[leonard tuchyner]

Hi group 1,

Pieces are due tomorrow. Mine is below .

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Barny’s Waning



Barny, my dog of 15 years, has had a long history of my wife and I
wondering whether he was going to live or die. He has had a number of
seemingly close calls with death. Yet his overall life experience has
been  impressive.

Barny’s lineage is mixed. His mother was a purebred American eskimo.
Basically buff-colored, his face is a mask of black highlights. The
dark etches of black eyebrows and snout give him a distinctively human
look, with deep  brown eyes that give the impression of intelligence.
His ears are pointed   and long, and he sports a thick mane of hair
around his shoulder area. There is a slim, less furry appearance on
the rest of his short torso, ending in a question-mark tail that
usually is worn cocked over on his left side like a high flying flag.
Those characteristics speak of a mysterious father, with  unknown
genetics. His sire must have been a large dog, because Barny is twice
as large  as his mother.  At his best, he was about 50 pounds, but
today he is below 40.

Barny’s body has  changed substantially over the years. In his old age
he has lost fat and muscle, so that now the aft  part of his body
looks like he has the backbone of a large canine,  while the forepart
resembles a small husky. It is as though his  physical aspects are at
war with themselves in deciding what kind of dog he should be.

Once hale and hearty, ready to take on any physical challenge, he is
now frail. His back legs are unreliable. Sometimes he has great
difficulty getting up on them. Stairs, which were no barrier to him,
are considered for a long time before he undertakes to climb them.
Nevertheless, he is still eager to patrol his back yard domain and
chase squirrels that frequent his back porch.

I remember when he was fearless, ready to take on any dog, regardless
of size. I recall an incident when our man Friday,  Bruce Woodfolk,
forgot to close the gate and Barny was free to roam. It took only a
minute or two for him to find Jimbo, his Irish setter nemesis, being
taken for a walk, which included the area in front of our house. Jimbo
lived in the house next to us, and Alexis, our neighbor, whom both our
dogs loved, was walking with him. Barny always considered her part of
our family, and therefore his property. So when Barny saw him out of
his yard and being walked past  his yard, he immediately saw it as an
opportunity to teach Jimbo a lesson and attacked. It didn’t matter
that the other dog was far bigger than he was. Jimbo, who was
basically a peace- loving animal, knew he had to rise to the
challenge, and the two of them went at it. By the time we were able to
separate the two combatants, blood on both sides had been shed. Both
dogs needed medical attention, with Jimbo the worst for wear.

Alexis is one of the best neighbors we have ever had. She wouldn’t
consider our paying for Jimbo’s trip to the vet. She also was still
quite loving  in regards to Barny.

Ordinarily, the two dogs are in their respective side-by-side
fenced-in yards. On one occasion our little dog became so frustrated
by Jimbo, who responded to his antics with quiet amusement, he grabbed
a branch of our privet hedge and took out his grievances on it. He
succeeded in mutilating the branch, but also damaged his own teeth in
the process.

In those bygone days, he not only chased squirrels, but actually caught a few.

I also remember that he often cornered snakes. He kept harassing them
until they died of a heart attack, or Diane, my wife, could  pull him
away or kill the snake, so we  wouldn’t have to worry about him
getting snake-bit, which did happen on one occasion. The  snake was a
copperhead, and it happened at night. The snake got him on the lip,
and it was off to the emergency vet. He was out in a day, just as
feisty as ever. My wife had to do the dirty work because I’m blind and
probably would have been bitten myself. In two episodes, she had to
cut the poor snakes’ heads off, because Barny could not be convinced
to leave them alone. He would evade her attempts to grab him. So, the
only way she could protect him was to decapitate the serpent. That’s a
moral conundrum that there isn’t any good answer to. The instrument of
decapitation was a straight-edged shovel.

Barny still goes on a 2-mile walk with me. But it is becoming an
increasingly rare occasion. Besides being unable to physically handle
the walk, he is very aware of his vulnerability due to bodily decline.
Now a barking neighbor’s dog intimidates him. He has learned that he
can depend on me or Diane to protect him, and he no longer wants to
turn around and go home.

Regardless, the bad old days are gone. Barny’s ability even to stand
is unreliable. He’s lived a long life by dog standards. His canine age
is comparable to my 83 years. Next year, if he makes it, will be the
equivalent of 90 years compared to humans. So, we can’t complain. He
still goes up and down stairs every day, and manages to patrol his
back yard. But his interest in trying to catch squirrels is rapidly a
thing of the past. He leaves snakes to their own devices. He knows he
is not able to evade them. Day by day, his body seems to diminish. We
do the only thing we can do. We relish the time left to enjoy him, and
we are thankful that he still has a good appetite.