Monday, April 11, 2011

Insanity Named George

 "Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.” -Agnes Sligh Turnbull (Thanks Mer)

I awoke this morning hoping your passing was a horrible nightmare. It took me a few minutes to snap back into reality and now I sit here with my heart aching and still unable to really accept the truth. 

I remember when my parents first brought you home. It was my sophomore year of high school and we had been talking about getting a dog for some time. One day my parents brought you home unexpectedly. I was so mad that they had chosen a dog without me and resented the fact that your insanity was thrown upon me by force, but more so, I resented that I was not allowed to be part of a major family decision. And believe me, you were a MAJOR family decision.

From the start, something between you and I blossomed. It was a relationship based on you doing every single thing possible to bother me and me increasingly “despising” you for it. Out of everyone in the house, you ate only my shoes and underwear. George Barbie Focker became your name, not because I loved you, but because this was the only way for sophomore year me to seek revenge. You were here to stay, to drive me crazy, to take over my bed, to bark uncontrollably, to smack me with your ever so rapidly moving tail, and of course, to eat my shoes and underwear. I wanted a tame dog…and you were pure insanity.

Fortunately for both of us, my sophomore self didn’t know what my adult self wanted. After a while you must have sensed my nearing breaking point because you suddenly stopped chewing my belongings. Cuddling with you became comforting, we soon realized your barking sometimes signaled danger such in the case with a peeping tom, I came to terms with your tail representing your eternal excitement to be near your family and friends, and I realized the relationship that was actually blossoming was one based on love, family, and friendship. You became a best friend to everyone in our family or your “pack.” Our friends were also your friends on facebook with your doggy account and in real life.

These friendships often developed over time because, let’s be honest, you aren’t one for making a good first impression. People responded to you with the same uncertainly that I did in the beginning, but you never ceased to crush the weariness with your giant smile and explosive enthusiasm to experience life with those surrounding you. Even Richie, our cat, grew to tolerate you. Though, looking back, I don’t think it was as much toleration as it was co-existence. You kept tabs on Richie and he kept tabs on you. I now look back at pictures of you and this co-existence is clearly illustrated by those photographic moments of the two of you peacefully laying just feet apart. Neither of you fooled us when pretending to dislike the other. 

 You grew up alongside me. You attended sleepovers, hiked the Tillamook forest, ran countless fields, swam in ponds, creeks and lakes all over, and once you even stole and ate an entire chocolate cake without getting sick. Food was never safe around you because you loved to eat. But what made you the happiest out of anything in the entire world was being at the beach with your family and friends. It is there that you belonged. At Gearhart, you would chase cars that drove along the sand. In the water, your tongue would swing to the side as you chased waves and salt water splashed in your face. As you ran around and claimed your section of the beach, you looked so happy, so free, so at peace. You loved water and you loved running.

 When our family started to fall apart, you were similar to that of a child with divorcing parents, only with four parents instead of two. Family relationships grew rocky, but one thing always remained the same and that was each of our love for you. And of course, no matter whom you lived with, your love for every single member of your pack never wavered. You always wanted everyone to be okay. And never did I feel safer than when you lived with me.

Not a doubt lingers in my mind that you lived a wonderful life full of excitement, love, energy, and adventure. I am thankful that I saw you one last time via skype just weeks ago, but I am also feeling tremendous pain for having been half a world away when you passed. What I would give just to cuddle with you one last time. I wouldn’t even care that you always take over almost the entire bed.

George, Georgie Boy, Georgie Porgie, George of the Jungle, George Barbie Focker, you will always have one of the most special places in my heart. Thank you for being such an amazing companion. Thank you for playing such a special role in the lives of everybody you touched. Thank you for bringing out the easy going, free spirited, and adventurous sides in me. May you rest in peace…I will miss you more than words can express.

2001-4/8/2011, George passed of a suspected heart attack or seizure.


  1. i love you george barbie focker. Lana, this post is so loving and really helps to jog all the memories of george and the countless amount of underwear her ate, expensive shoes he loved to chew on and all of the sleepovers he was a sexy for. What about the time he tried to eat a sweatshirt RIGHT off of Jill? haha He was deff a sexy because he loved to eat. He will be missed by so many and was loved by so many. Rest in Peace Georgie Porgie.

  2. That is so beautiful. Now George lives on the internet!