Micah Smith Speaks

I moved these 2 replies into 1 post since I’m learning this system hehehehe

on February 27th, 2006 at 1:10 pm

I had to post this also because boobear was very close to me. I got to give him his last kisses before he left for the vet. (from my sisters site)

24 February 2006
By my own admission, I didn’t make very many smart decisions in 1988 - 1992. One November morning in 1990 I ventured into the ghetto of Hanahan, responding to an ad in the paper for a free half-cocker spaniel puppy. I was greeted by a ridiculous stereotype of white trash who showed me 2 dogs chained to a tree in the courtyard: the mother who was a full-blooded red Chow Chow and her 9 month old puppy who looked more like half Chow, half Golden Retriever than having any cocker spaniel in him. The puppy, which the bubba had named Beer Bear, was in a horrible state: malnutritioned (left over flat beer was in the water bowl), cigarette burns on his back with missing tufts of fur, and he was clearly scared to death of the bubba. The mother was in pristine condition (in comparison and in relation to her environment). She clearly slept inside and was valued. Her half-breed spawn was not. I had been looking for a smaller dog, had never favored the Chow breed and wanted to get away from the bubba as soon as possible but something in me could not, would not leave that abused puppy behind. I remember thinking “If I leave this dog, he’ll die soon.” So I loaded him up in the Fiero and he never looked back. Turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
Our first couple days weren’t idealyic. He was frightened. He didn’t like my bathing attempts. He growled and snapped at me and my boyfriend when we tried to approach him. Once he realized that a) I’d feed him consistently and actual dog food (or his preference, cat food), b) I would prefer him to sleep inside beside my bed, c) he had a fenced yard to rule as his own, and d) that I wouldn’t hit or abuse him, he warmed up though. I changed his moniker to Boo Bear and I finally had the Scooby to my Shaggy.

Now as you all know from my blogs, Boo has been a consistent companion over the years. When my boyfriend and I broke up and split domiciles in 1992, he wanted the dog because he’d have a yard but I wouldn’t budge. He took the cats instead. Boo was *my* dog and by his protective actions, we all knew it fundamentally. In 1993, Boo made the move with me from South Carolina to Houston. There he fell in love with my Mom, Dad, and brother whom he adopted as his own. Dad started referring to him as a “Daddy-dog” (in a faux dispute over ownership). When Jenni moved to Houston after college in Georgia, we were concerned about the relationship her cat Geoff would have with Boo but they became best buds. Anytime Geoff was threatened by something he knew he couldn’t handle, all he had to do was get to the backyard where Boo would (and did) defend him. In 2000, Boo made the move with me to Colorado and met a bunch of new friends there including Grandon’s animals. And yeah, as is well-documented on this site, he destroyed my new purple sofa and the sheetrock/carpet in my apartment but all in an attempt to rid us of verminy mice. Eventually his arthritis wasn’t doing well in the CO cold and he really needed a yard to run around in so I traded roomies and Boo went to California while Micah came to Colorado. Boo really took to the beach house and Vincent– Mom and Dad’s Great Pyrennes they rescued from a Cali shelter. He loved having the yard with constant, on-demand access. He loved the sunshine and warmth. Most of my recent pictures are of him with Mini-kitty curled up sharing a sunbeam or partnering to stalk Mom and Dad’s mice problem. He didn’t exactly like the ocean (he was not a water dog) but he enjoyed walks on the beach and sniffing seaweed.

Sadly, Boo Bear passed away last night. He was just 2 weeks shy of his 16th birthday. That’s 112 in dog years. He had a full, loving life, much more than what he entered the world with.

He’d had an episode Wednesday and was taken to the vet. After multiple tests, varying theories, and some real progress on his part, we narrowed it down to a liver infection which we’d barely begun to treat when he moved on. Death took him in his sleep so at least it was peaceful if not in familiar surroundings.

He was my rock through withdrawl as I was getting sober, my solace through more boy-did-me-wrong meltdowns than I care to recall, my co-pilot on many roadtrips to unknown lands and adventures and my comedian through Mom’s cancers (as her chemo machines totally freaked him out which was adorable). I can honestly say I have more warm, loving memories with him than most people. That is how much he meant to me. That is how much I hurt now, knowing the next time I go home to Cali he won’t be there.

But when you think about it, Boo will always be with me. He’s part of who I am now and I know he’ll be waiting for me on the flip side. Rest in Peace Boo Bear Smith. You were the best dog ever and you are missed.

My Thoughts

Two of my fondest memories of boobear was everytime you put him in the car he would insist that you roll down the window and let him stick his head out. He loved the wind in his face while you went faster and faster. You could see that he was in heaven. I was with Heather when we moved Boobear to TX and to CA and eachtime boo did an outstanding job and being calm, cool, and relaxed. He was the ideal “Mr. Cool” dog when mices weren’t around. Let’s not forget the wall I repaired and the sofa Heather trashed!
2ndly I remember taking boo favoritiest toy, “Mr. Hotdog”, and tying him to a fishing pole. Man that dog was fast, as I would swing the toy around in a circle faster and faster. Boo never really had a hard time catching up with it no matter how fast it went. We would spend hours out in the backyard playing that game and giving him the dreaded “B” word (Bath).

That’s how I am going to remember him. Chasing his dream of “Mr. Hotdog” and stairing down the road with the wind in his face as if heaven itself had come to visit him. We all miss you boo

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