You Can't Be a Socialist and Mistreat Other Animals.

Spike had high expectations.

 

August was dog month apparently. I looked for some of my writings about one of my dogs that died unexpectedly. We sent him in for a teeth cleaning and they have to put them under for this. He never came out of it. This beautiful animal took me to the redwoods. I would never have done the hikes I do today without him. 

 

Not far from me on the East Ridge trail, it meets the Eucalyptus trail that heads to the stream down below. Here we find the beautiful, no, majestic Redwood trees and the stream trail; they are not the giant sequoias of Yosemite or Humboldt but there's something special about Redwood forests. One crosses the stream trail and at that point there was a bench one could sit on and rest if in to a long hike or just to wallow in the beauty of it all; the parks dept has since changed it a little. I sat there one day, and despite being in an urban area, (ten minutes form crack deals by car I often say just to drive the point home about our urban beauty) I could not hear a sound. I thanked Spike for bringing me to this place.

 

So for the animal lovers among us and there are many of us as we are just animals too, this is a belated tribute to dogs. I should also add, that you can't be a socialist or Marxist or a person who wants to change the world for the better, to rid ourselves of the madness of the market, if you do not respect other animal life.

 

In Memory of Spike Mellor.

 

One of Spike’s greatest qualities was that he was not to be driven down. He was not to be ignored. He was an aggressive little man but his aggression came in the form of play, inquisitiveness and curiosity.

 

Everything was his business and he wanted to know all, even the nuns couldn’t beat this out of him I’m sure. He had a certain character and he was not to be denied it.

 

I remember when we first picked him up. The breeder called him Twister because he spun around in circles when she put him in the crate or her car. He did this till the end. As he got older we had to put a crate in the car because he would hit himself against his bigger brother Bernie tied next to him straining his back, so he “twisted” in the crate.

 

I remember early on I tried to exert my will and force him to stop it. I filled a spray bottle with water and when he didn’t stop twisting I squirted him as he hated water. But it was to no avail; he twisted the night away dripping wet. I decided that the only way to stop him and his destruction of the seat belts was to beat him senseless, something I wouldn’t do of course. But even imposing my will physically would have destroyed his character and been a victory for him; I would have lost the dog I loved because he was the typical Jack Russell Terrier. If you want a lap dog don’t get a Jack Russell Terrier. Research your breeds.

 

Not long before he died he pulled a fast one on both Bernie (our other dog) and me. We have a couch in our den and at times I would get annoyed and say to Joanne that I was the third male in the pecking order in this house. She sat one end of the couch and me on the other, Bernie would be in between and Spike at her end under the blanket.  When Bernie wasn’t there I’d lay down but god forbid if my feet would touch or disturb the precious man’s nest. He would growl and grumble like murder, snapping at my feet if I didn’t stop. Then he would come over and lick me as if to apologize and reaffirm our friendship.

 

This one night Bernie was laid in the middle and Spike wandered in from his bed in the spare room (he owned this house) and noticed there wasn’t much room, or at least it became evident this is what he was thinking because he went to the back door just a few feet away indicating he wanted to go pee. I got up and stepped over to the door and unlatched it looking down at my feet to let him out. But he had disappeared. I turned around and he had snuck back around me and leapt in to my spot on the sofa. The little bastard had tricked me. He did this once with Bernie too, going to the other room and bringing one of Bernie’s favorite toys in to the den urging Bernie to play. Bernie jumps down all excited and Spike jumped up in to his spot.

 

The last few days have been very difficult as it always is when we unexpectedly lose a loved one. Writing this is a way of relieving the pain for me. I haven’t been able to do much up to now.

 

Spike affected everyone he came in to contact with. Many of my friends gave him names like “Spikester” and Spikeorama and names like that. It hits home how much our animal friends mean to us. Joanne and I are not the only ones to experience such a loss I know.

 

Spike the magnificent

I think dogs are special, they have a special relationship with humans that’s for sure, after all, surely they are the most domesticated of all the other animals humans interact with. They are so close to us. I have lost a number of dogs in my lifetime but there is always that one you have a special bond with, that is exceptional in character. For me, Spikey was that guy, 16 pounds of dynamite.

Had the emergency room been able to save him we would have emptied our bank accounts. My dad would have me (and the pooch) shot.

 

Spike was aggressive, he was a Jack Russell Terrier after all, but he was not a mean dog. In the picture from the dog park in Richmond, he was not afraid to woo this bulldog. He became quite close to this dog and the only criticism I can think of is that he took advantage of it because his owner, herself a therapist, took him up to a dog psychiatrist at UC Davis. He got regular counseling and was on Prozac.

 

Spike’s first love was a deerhound named Emily. He had no opposition to mixed relationships. Gender discrimination was not his bag either, he was as fond of the males as he was the ladies mounting numerous Rottweiller males, something that almost cost him his life on a couple of occasions. They do say it’s not love but power and domination. I can’t believe it, not my Spikey. He was a lover not a fighter.

 

It is said that people that are cruel to animals eventually hurt humans as well. Why not? We’re animals too. It makes sense to me. I have never been cruel to animals but I had to learn how to deal with them other than just giving them a thrashing when they didn’t come back when called.

 

I never beat Spike as I learned that treats and patience are the correct and most productive methods when dealing with dogs.

 

Our dogs love to please us, make sure you love them back, they have shorter lie spans.

 

Spike Mellor Jack Russell Terrier. born 12-26-96- died 8-24-09

Written, 8-25-2009