June 12th, 2002 (revised)
Ah yes, Casey....How we miss
you.
Casey was our first dog. He was a Cocker Spaniel.
He would have been six in October of 1999. He passed away from
a disease that came due to over inbreeding of cockers (Autoimmunehemolytic
anemia). It took him quickly (within 2 days).
We were Casey's 3rd owners. The first set definitely
abused him, he was emotionally scarred from this. The second
set gave him away often only to change their mind at the last
second. When we got him, we would not give him back. All in
all he really was a good dog.
There were times I was certain that he didn't
know his name. I'm sure he thought it was "HEYYOULITTLEBASTARDGETAWAYFROMTHAT!"
Well, it was what he answered to. Casey was constantly into
things that could get him into trouble. But only when we were
home.
Like Guinness, the only thing that usually saved
his skin from my wrath was that he was a cutie. I can still
picture him at our window in our Secaucus appartment, his little
beige head pressed up against the pane and his paws at the sill
with tongue hanging out. It was if he was saying, "Hurry
up! Get inside! Want to plaaaaaaay!!"
He loved fetch. Boy! Did he love fetch! Hours
and hours of the same thing - over and over again. But he was
happy.
He had his quirks, however.
Cocker Spaniels are notorious for urinating anywhere,
anytime, anyplace. Casey was no exception. His particular favorite
time was right after I would finish steam cleaning the rug.
Also, he had an interesting disposition. It wasn't
as if he was violent dog or a nasty one. He had the disposition
of a grumpy old man. If he was told to do something that he
did not want to do, he would do it, but he would actually grumble
as he walked away. Guinness would taunt him all of the time.
Casey just did not have the energy for this. I could swear he
was developing a facial tick. If he liked you he loved you.
If he didn't, he would still sit on your lap.
The thing that I will always remember about Casey
is that he had the habit of vibrating if he wanted something.
This is similar to a child throwing a tantrum but not screaming
or crying to get what he wants. He would almost certainly do
this if I was eating something by the television. And if he
did make any sound, it was like he was actually attempting human
speech. No, it was not a bark or a whine. It was almost a moan.
Mastering patheticness to perfection.
Sherry misses him, I miss him, and so do
our neighbors. Even now, 3 years after his death, it is difficult
for me to think about him without feeling sad. We buried him
in Abbey Glenn Cemetary in Layfayette, New Jersey. It is reserved
land that will never be developed and is specifically allocated
for the burial of pets. They cleaned him up for the viewing
and that is the way I will always remember him (he was jaundiced
and had stains of his own urine in his coat - not pretty). I
will always be grateful to them for doing that.
He will truly rest in peace now.
Pictures:
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