Midnight – A Dog’s Life

We had to say goodbye to our little Midnight this week. He was fourteen. He had been gradually failing, unable to safely navigate a flight of stairs anymore. His legs would slowly splay when he stood on the kitchen tile. Nothing major, but the signs of the passing time were there. I was not ready to say goodbye. I was so not ready to say goodbye, but then he went into kidney failure, and saying goodbye was the only thing left that I could do for him.

I have loved all of the members of our pack, each in their own special way. And much like the members of a boy band are labeled (the heartthrob, the bad boy, the cute one) so were the members of our pack. There was Cody, the handsome one; Hogan, the lovable, but not so bright one; Rudy, the crafty and determined one; and Sunny, the sassy demanding princess. And Midnight? Midnight was the littlest one, the cutest one, the sweetest one. Or as I liked to call him, the sweet-i-est.

His fur siblings were not always kind to him, but he was patient and forgiving. When Rudy wanted the toy Midnight was playing with, Rudy would run to the dog door bell and ring it. When Midnight would drop the toy and come running to join those who were going outside, Rudy would run back and grab the toy. But honestly, that wasn’t necessary. Midnight willingly gave up toys, prized positions on the couch or someone’s lap, and patiently waited his turn for treats.

Nicknames. He was known as My Sweet Boy, Little Nugget, Little Minute, and Mr. Midnight. One time – during a flustered moment when MOH (my other half) was trying to herd four rambunctious dogs into the house – and he was having trouble remembering all their names – Midnight received a shout-out as Mustang. That was a fun nickname that stuck for while.

For the better part of the last 10 years, the ying to Midnight’s yang was his red-haired sister, Sunny. We took them camping with us for years and they always attracted attention. And although folks seemed to remember the daytime/nighttime play on words with their names, they often couldn’t recall Midnight’s exact name. (“It has something to do with the dark, right?” people would ask.) One time during a walk at the campground, a little boy we had met the night before excitedly waved to us and said to his sister, “I know him. That’s, that’s… Nightlight!”

The Dental Hygienist. Midnight made me a true believer in past life experiences, for surely he was a dentist or dental hygienist in another life. He cleaned the teeth of the other pack members with fervor. The canine members didn’t object – for the most part. After many rebuffed attempts, he gave up on his efforts to clean the teeth of the human members of the pack. He was QUITE interested in a plastic toothpick that my mom was using, so much in fact, that we had to send him from the room.

His canine examination room was ANYWHERE his ‘patients’ would sit still. Our friends and family that saw him in action watched in fascinated horror as he went about his work, sometimes holding his patient’s head down with his paw, sometimes going too deep, eliciting a gag from his victim. Uninitiated spectators would cringe, but like a train wreck, it was hard to turn away. Many of the rest of us were used to it and laughed it off. As my sister diplomatically observed, “He was quite serious about his vocation.”

Food. He was motivated by food. There is no shame in this. Many of us are. He was not, however, food aggressive. If another member of the pack encroached on his meal, he just ate faster. He willingly shared dropped food and treats. Although there was that time at Christmas. He sat beside a wrapped package for the longest time, giving the other family dogs the stink eye and a very low grumble when they passed by too closely. Highly unusual behavior for my little sweetie pie. As it turned out, the package was a big can of popcorn.

In the winter when it was too winter-y for a wiener walk, we had treat treasure hunts in the house. I would hide treats under toys and blankets, on low-level shelves, and just around the house for him, and his partner in crime, Sunny, to find. He added a level of frenzy to the hunt, and treasure hunts are not the same without him.

Napping. He was the best napping buddy ever. Cold morning in the house? Time for a nap. Mom is napping? Time to join her. Friends relaxing in the yard? Nap. Mom bought me a sleeping bag? Zzzzzzzz. Blanket on the floor in the laundry room? Great napping place. Helping Mom fold laundry? Sudden onset of sleepiness. Spot of sunshine. Perfect.

The catbird seat. When your legs are only three inches long, it’s good to have a friend who is six foot four. Midnight would follow MOH around, gently putting a paw against his calf or shin to let him know that he needed a lift so he could see what was happening ‘up top’. Whether they were looking outside, or watching me cook in the kitchen, Midnight’s favorite spot was in the catbird seat.

Oh how I wish for one more little snuggle, one more walk, one more treasure hunt, one more, one more… But I’ll picture you running zoomies underneath the willow trees, napping in a sunny spot, and cleaning Cody’s teeth. I love you Sweet Boy. ❤️🐶.