With my last post about Angus I didn’t get to write everything I wanted. It was a little tough. And I promise this is the last one, but I wanted to share some things he was awesome at.
When he got a little older he had this thing he would do with his food. I don’t know where he got it from, or where it went, because he only did it a few times. He would get some food from his dish, drop it on the floor, and then dance around it.
He would dance. His tail would be wagging, his paws would be prancing, and he would throw his head all around. This could go on for five minutes before he would finally eat the food. My grandmother and I said he was dancing to the food gods to thank them for his feast.
And then he started chasing his tail. Again, he only did it a few times. It started out fast at first, but then he realized he had a better chance at catching it if he went slow, so he did. I caught him walking slowly in a circle one day. He caught his tail. He didn’t bite it, but he got it in his mouth. With that challenge completed, he never again chased his tail.
And then the bottle opening started. At some point I was drinking a 20 ounce bottle of something, probably Mt. Dew, and when I was done the bottle ended up on the floor. I probably just dropped it. But he attacked it. The noise was ridiculous as he would bite at the bottle and it would shoot out from his mouth and bounce off of everything. I thought it was hysterical, so I kept giving him bottles to play with, eventually giving him empty 2 liter bottles. And then, he got it between his paws and laid down on the floor to chew on the lid. He messed with it until he got the lid unscrewed. When the lid came off, he was no longer interested in the bottle.
This lasted the rest of his life. He couldn’t pass up an opportunity to play with an empty bottle. He could be laying around sleeping, and I would drop a bottle on the floor. He’d jump up, attack it, then work on the lid until it was unscrewed. Then the bottle was useless to him. I would even put the lid back on the bottle and he would take it off again, then have nothing to do with the bottle.
Sadly, in his last days we gave him a bottle and he tried to get the lid off, but he just couldn’t do it. But he tried. I even uploaded a video of him doing it to Youtube. It’s hard to see because my cell phone at the time wasn’t all that great, and the lighting wasn’t all that great. Plus, he was black as hell. Light actually refused to reflect off of him.
I’m sure you’ve all seen the dogs who like to lay out in the sun. Well, him being as black as he was, he still had no problem laying in the sun. On the hottest summer days, sun beating down on him, he wouldn’t just lay in it, he would lay on our blacktop driveway. Sometimes I had to get him up with a spatula. Jokes aside, when he would come in I couldn’t touch him for a few minutes until he cooled off.
When he was younger I gave him some beer and he lapped it up happily. I never gave him a lot, but he loved it. Until one time he had a bit too much and had a hangover the next day. He never touched beer again.
At some point he developed an attitude, especially if he was laying somewhere. If you happened to touch him, he would growl and move from the spot. He was kind of an ass that way. My grandma was the first to discover it. She was a tiny woman and had a small twin bed she slept in, and he had to sleep in bed with her. There wasn’t enough room for them both, and sometimes she would touch him and he would jump down from the bed growling. She actually bought a bigger bed so they could have more room together.
That attitude continued until, well, this morning. He insisted on sleeping right next to my bed, or under my feet when I was on the couch. But if I accidentally touched him, he would growl and go lay somewhere else. Such an attitude.
Well, I guess that about wraps it up. He was goofy as hell, but he was smart. He knew what buttons to push on me and I knew what buttons to push on him. We messed with each other all the time. That’s what made our relationship great. We knew each other well. Today was the first day I’ve gone without him in my life in 8 years, and it sucked.
But I’d like to thank everyone who has helped me deal with losing him. I know he’s better off, and I’m sure I’ll see him again one day, if the afterlife is something I can count on. Until then, I have a miniature pinscher named Redd to deal with, and he’s crazy enough.
That’s it. I’m done with the sadness. Thanks for putting up with it for a couple posts.