A Dog Who is Not a Dog Dog, for a Man Who is Not a Dog Man

by Bruce Horst
WryteStuff

Anyone who has ever walked into a room full of dogs at a dog pound knows the deafening sound of barking which ensues. In 2005 I reluctantly gave in to my kids wishes to add a dog to our family, and this was the beginning of our experience finding a suitable dog. We knew we weren't really dog people, but my wife Jean and I felt like it would be a good experience for our kids.

As we stepped into the room that housed over 200 dogs waiting for a home, the cacophony of barking forced us to hold our hands over our ears. The rest of the family just looked at each other in disbelief of the noise. Trying to be the wise dad, I spent the time looking around for any dogs which weren't barking and I told the kids to start trying to find a suitable dog with those 3 quiet dogs once the barking stopped.

One of the quiet dogs was hiding in the rear corner of his cage, obviously as disturbed by the noise as we were. He was a Catahoula, a Louisiana cattle dog, one which had been displaced by Hurricane Katrina a month earlier.

We asked to see the dog, and a helper removed him from his cage and took him outside for us to get to know. The dog seemed so relieved to be gone from that room, and Jean commented that it seemed as though he didn't really like dogs just as we didn't really like dogs. We decided that he would do, and when we went to go back into the building to let the helper know, the dog firmly planted his feet on the ground pulling back. He was NOT going to go back into that building!

This was fine by us. The dog seemed to be a perfect match. He was obviously appreciative of us for taking him from that place and he seemed loyal to us from that very instant.

We decided to name him "Barkley" because of this experience, and because his previous name was "Pookie." Pookie is a Cajun term of endearment, pretty much interchangeable with "buddy" or "bubba" (yes, bubba is a term of endearment in the South) but we just couldn't bring ourselves to call the him Pookie ourselves.

As is common with Catahoulas, his coat was made up of splotches which were shades of gray, and he had one brown and one blue eye (often called a glass eye.) Catahoulas often look like sad dogs. I don't know if they really are sad, but every one that I've ever seen has the look of depression, which makes you want to pet them and rub their bellies all the more. As someone who has battled depression himself, I felt like I could relate to this dog, and he could relate to me. The fact that he was a dog that didn't bark made him somewhat of a misfit, so he fit right in with us!

During the same time period, I got to fulfill a life-long dream and buy a Jeep Wrangler. Driving this Jeep with the top off and music blaring was (and still is!) a favorite thing of mine and my family. I'd even say it's therapeutic. My two oldest boys got their driver's licenses while learning to drive in this Jeep, and it's got the scratches to prove it.

The funny thing is that riding in the back of this Jeep was obviously therapeutic for Barkley as well. Every morning Barkley would go from laying on the floor to bucking like a wild bronco as soon as I would mention "Jeep". He knew it was time to get in the Jeep to ride to the neighborhood walking trails for our daily walk so he could chase squirrels.

Another funny thing about Barkley was that being a cattle dog, he had an incessant need to 'round people up.' He would constantly circle my family, trying to get us closer together. If some of us were in the front yard while some of us were in the back yard, he'd nearly go crazy trying to get us together. This was amazing to us because dogs don't normally think in 3D, but Barkley obviously did. When he slept, he would sleep between us and the door, no matter where we were.

Two years after we took Barkley in, our family experienced a traumatic event. One Saturday morning our home was invaded by a punk wearing a mask and waving a handgun larger than any handgun I had ever seen. I was made aware of the guy in our house because for the first time ever, Barkley barked. He barked loud and rapidly, as if he was about to attack. The gunman was so distracted by Barkley that he walked right past my 7 year old who was playing video games, without even noticing him. My family survived this ordeal without a scratch, but I think this was at least in part because Barkley was there with us. From that day on, Barkley would bark whenever he heard someone outside. That day changed Barkely, almost like he couldn't forgive himself for allowing it to happen.

The next year Barkley developed diabetes. We were willing to deal with it even though the medication was expensive and we were required to give him two shots of pet insulin a day. Unfortunately, we had a less-than-honest vet who insisted that we use an insulin that we later learned was recalled due to ineffectiveness. The diabetes quickly resulted in blindness because of this.

One day, after we had received a bottle of this medication from the vet which was particularly ineffective, Barkley had gotten so sick he couldn't walk or eat. After two days of this, with the vet saying there was nothing else that could be done, I decided to take the top off the Jeep and lay Barkley in the back seat. I drove around 3 hours that morning with the music playing and Barkley in back, having edged himself up so that his head was sticking out over the side with his tongue hanging out. By that afternoon he was walking and eating again.

I eventually discovered the problem with the medication, but by then it was too late. Barkley was suffering constantly. A year ago this month we decided to have Barkley put down to end his suffering. Someday maybe we'll get another dog, though I'm not very optimistic about it. How many times can a guy who isn't a dog person find a dog who isn't a dog dog?

Article submitted Sunday, June 05, 2011 & read 891 times.

Leave your comments through My Pet Tale:

» left by Lorrie Davids⁽⁶⁸⁸⁾ (348 days 11 hours ago.)

Thanks for sharing your Pet Tale, Bruce. There is that rare time when a dog just bonds with your soul - this is one of them. I am glad I had the honor of knowing Barkley. He really was a "good dog".
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» left by Bud Inzer (347 days 21 hours ago.)

Thanks for such a moving story of the of love, devotion and vulnerability.
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» left by Anonymous (347 days 11 hours ago.)

They say that among the other animals, it was the dog that adapted to humans and not the other way around. So maybe its a case of a dog who isn't a man dog. hehe
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» left by david from magnolia, texas (347 days 11 hours ago.)

Great animals. Great memories! Good day.
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» left by Anonymous (347 days 2 hours ago.)

This is a great article...touching to say the leat--enjoyed the heck out of it--sad tale in ways too--displaced by Katrina and its previous owners--in a lousy loud dog kennel-- than a dumbo veterinarian. The good part in this mix is you and your family...everyone benefited it seems--might even seem like it was all meant to have happened. Thanks for putting this down as an article... RIP Barkley Horst.

Steve Kovacs
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» left by Brianna Popsickle (346 days 22 hours ago.)

This was so moving Bruce. Our families sound very similar in that we were never really dog people either but had a Brittany whom we loved for fourteen years. We had to put her down just a couple of weeks ago. It was very difficult. My husband often referred to her as No-Up-Side, even though he enjoyed walks with her around the lake each week more than he'd care to admit. It's so sad that a vet would take advantage like yours did. But how lucky for Barkley that your family found him when you did and he was able to enjoy being part of your family for a time.
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