Bailey's Story
To Bailey, with all my love…
It seems like it was only a heartbeat ago when I first saw you. How did ten years pass so quickly? They certainly didn’t pass quietly! I just lost Gretchen the week before and decided to come look at you….just look, there was no way I was getting another dog so soon. Even though I was still not sure after meeting you, there was no doubt for Rob. He was enthralled! You bounced and squirmed and wriggled and jumped that day, running circles around us, throwing yourself all over him. “Mom, I want THIS puppy!”, declared a 6 year old, with a tooth missing inside that huge grin. “Robert, I don’t know…I just wanted to look. I think we better think about this. Maybe wait a while and look at other dogs too”, I told him. “Please, M, it has to be THIS dog! I want THIS dog! We’ll call him Fred.” Twenty minutes later, “Fred” was not only in my car, but he was bouncing all over it and peeing when he wanted. Driving the 45 minutes home felt like an eternity because this Fred dog would not keep still!!!!
So, I called Kim and told her, “We have a puppy. Robert wanted THIS puppy and so we are bringing him home. He wants to call him Fred. But I don’t know. I don’t know what I am even doing. But wait until you see him. He has the longest, softest ears and he is the cutest thing EVER.” Kim said, “Fred??? No, not Fred…” and after a pause, she said, “Bailey. Call him Bailey.” I loved Bailey, and Bailey it was. Robert got the puppy…I got the name.
Bailey came home and immediately ran through the yard, wagging tail and nose to the ground. His ears were so long he kept tripping on them, rolling onto his back and trying again. Only to trip again.
Bailey quickly learned that shoes were for eating, carpeting was meant to be torn up, and feet were for biting and chasing. He later learned that baby gates were for jumping over and molding was for chewing. Chairs, clothes, human limbs were all his favorites.
He met his grandma and grandpa by visiting their house. He thought that coffee table was so cool with the glass on top. He could play camping with the table and stick his big black nose all underneath the glass and look out at you. Grandma and Grandpa were fun to eat too! Grandma said, “This dog is a nightmare!” Yes, he is we told her, but isn’t he cute?
Big black nose and soft pink feet. Feet that smelled like snack food, popcorn really.
One day, Bailey started to limp. That body was getting bigger by the second and watching him hobble on three legs was not funny. Off to the vet. After a series of x-rays the vet said, “He is growing too fast. This cottony stuff you see is where his bones are growing. Switch dog food to something with less protein.” Done. He got better.
Spring came and it was time to take down the tree. Bailey thought WOW!!!! They are cutting down this tree all for me!! Off he went carrying and dragging branches….huge branches. And look! A fence! If I snap this collar off, I can get under that fence!!! Ohhh, the neighbor’s yard! Hello, nice man neighbor!!! What? Another fence? What is that? I can hop that! Mom planted me vegetables!! I love these tomatoes, and peppers, and cucumbers….and wait, eggplant! I think I will rest here among these plants.
As Bailey led a life of adventure and discovery, I quickly learned to know what the green stains were on his snout, not to walk through the yard without falling into a hole, and always look to Mike to find my nosy puppy.
Four years passed in an instant. This time Bailey was really limping. What now? Is it that leg? That same bad leg? Back to the vet. Except this time the x-rays showed something more ominous. Hip dysplasia, both hips. Osteoarthritis, all joints. What??? But he is only 4 years old!!!! I stayed up with Bailey that night as he rested on my bed and sobbed. I sobbed because I knew we had to battle pain. I was not going to lose this one so young. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
In those four years, our souls had connected and intertwined. We would share snuggles and look deep into each other’s eyes and not squirm or talk or move. We were content in each other’s eyes. Me weary from my life, and him just knowing I needed someone to give me a place for solace. And I found it there. In those big, brown loving eyes perched above that big black wet nose that would push ever so gently against me.
Bailey learned not to eat the house. I learned where I could find comfort. Bailey learned not to jump fences. I learned true love. Bailey learned not to bite feet. I learned to just be. Bailey learned not to pee in the house. I learned that I could see my very soul in Bailey’s eyes.
Years came and went. Corned beef stolen from the table as we were about to eat, couches dominated by a dog that was about ten feet long when stretched out. Cantaloupe taken from grocery bags were balls to be played with not eaten.
HOLD ON!!!! WHO IS THIS SCOOTER DOG THAT IS BITING ME???
And so, as told in Scooter’s story, we had a problem here. And as much as Bailey was terrified of him, he also depended on him. As much as Bailey hated him, he loved him. And together, they chased the neighbor’s dog all the time and became dubbed, “The Bad Boys” by our neighbor who loved them too.
As the years passed, stories unfolded of The Bad Boys. Too numerous to write out but forever ingrained in the hearts of those who knew them. They were the pair. Sometimes tempted to rename them “Jack” and “A**”, they were the perfect pair. Each with his own personality, his own quirks and his own desires. Bailey persevered through living with The Terror. The Number One Bad Boy.
And when it came time for Scooter to leave us, no one was more devastated than the other half of the Bad Boys. At first it was a welcome relief to Bailey that his dictator was on vacation, but as the reality set in, Bailey’s heart started to break. He took his bone outside to bury by the fence to try and lure his other half back. He sat and wouldn’t eat or play. He waited. Eventually he healed but he was never ever the same.
Enter Baby Pallie. “ANOTHER ONE?????”, asked Bailey. But he loved her. He immediately took over the big brother role. He watched her, played with her, and that part of Bailey that never came back after Scooter left him returned. He was happy again. Content. He coached her on in her training.
I don’t want this story to be about Bailey’s illness or pain. I want it to be about Bailey’s joy. Because Bailey was joy. And he was mine. Bailey’s life wasn’t about tests and pills and disease, it was about celebration and rolling in the mud to find bliss and gentle kisses and drooly hugs and happy smiles. Bailey’s life was about finding sunshine and relishing in it, catching an interesting scent with nose held high. It was about chasing balls and chewing sticks and running so fast your ears would fly! Bailey’s life was about sticking your head out the car window and loving the breeze. It was about gentle nudges and
gentle cuddles and belly rubs. Always belly rubs.
Bailey’s life was about love. Pure love. Love of life. Love of people. Love of other animals. Love of his family. It was always about love.
Bailey’s life was about living in the moment. Loving unconditionally. Asking for little. Giving huge amounts of himself in return.
Bailey’s eye reflected my soul back to me and gave me life when I thought I could no longer face another day, another problem, another painful situation.
That was Bailey’s life. And I was so completely blessed as soon as Rob said, “I want THIS dog!”
Now, Bailey is a Bad Boy angel, wearing the only black leather wings and halo, with his soul-brother, Scooter, embroidered BBB.
I released you, Bailey because so many times you released me. You took my pain. You made me smile and laugh even in the darkest of days. You loved me anyway in all my weakness and frailty. You understood me better than any other living thing. We needed no words. We only needed and shared so much love.
You released me from myself. And in turn, my Sweet Face, I release you.
I release you but I always will love you.
Forever, Big Boy, forever.
Mommy
Basset hounds are like potato chips, you can't have just one!