Louie has left the building, now the postman can rest easy. RIP Louie, a real world shaker.

Louie was a walking study in the power of persistence. His father was Max, a 6 inch tall Yorkie. His mother Molly, an over sized Papillion. Max could walk under Molly without touching so much as a single teat. Molly and Max weren't fixed at the time, still the likelihood of Max figuring out the mechanics of a much needed step ladder was slim, I didn't figure he would be able to seal the deal. A couple of months later I was proven wrong. Three pups were born, one died at a day or two old, one went to a retired priest, my girlfriend and I kept the runt, Louie. Impossible conception aside, Louie could be a major pain in the ass. He was always wound up, constantly running around getting into things he shouldn't have. Louie was a lot like his father, and a lot like me. He didn't care for strangers, kids got on his nerves, he was always barking and growling at anyone who passed by. He was 5 pounds of fur, piss, and vinegar, on legs that were too tall for his body, and ears that looked like wings. His face was as black as his eyes, and they shined bright whenever he was awake.

Last week Louie started having some gum problems, I took him to the vet, who sent me home with antibiotics and instructions to bring him back in a few days if he didn't improve. I took him back this morning, he was lethargic, wouldn't eat, I could tell he was in some pain. As we drove up Noland road toward the vet, Louie climbed over in my lap and stuck his head out the window. We stopped at the light on 23rd, Louie growled and barked at some guys pouring concrete, but it was half hearted, I figure he did it more for my benefit than his own pleasure. The vet told me to leave him for a couple of hours and then to call to see how his blood work came out. I drove back up to his office instead. I had a bad feeling, coupled with the remnants of a bad dream the night before. I wanted to hope that the vet would send him home, tell me he was on the mend, but I knew that wasn't how this hand was going to play out.

Louie was suffering from kidney failure, a genetic birth defect that he somehow managed to overcome for 14 months or better. The vet was kind as he informed me that Louie had deteriorated in just those few hours. I had them bring him to me in the exam room, the light while somewhat faded still flickered in his eyes. He was looking to me for help, the innocent eyes confused and trusting all at once. I've never had to put a dog down, and I hadn't thought I would be doing it today. After the Vet explained that Louie was just going to continue to decline, there was nothing left to be done, still I struggled to do the right thing. Louie drifted off to sleep and slipped from this mortal coil in my arms. Next to the death of my Mother, putting Louie down was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. Prison didn't even come close in terms of how I felt in that exam room. The vet patted me on my shoulder, his assistant said she was sorry, and we all stood in the uncomfortable sterile room, as this 50 year old man wept as if he had lost a child. As hard as it is for many to conceive, that's exactly how it felt.

They gave me a towel to wrap his still warm body in, I carried him through the lobby, past the stares of people who pulled their own dogs a little closer to them. I brought Louie home, and dealt with the unpleasant task of waking my girlfriend who works nights and sleeps days. I told her what happened, and we both shed a few more tears for a great little dog. I buried Louie under the bedroom window at the front of the house. He was always in the window in the living room, keeping a watchful eye out for the postman. He would growl mightily as the mail carrier approached the front of the house, waiting for just the right moment to start barking, which invariably made the postman jump a little and look around. He was a 5 pound dog, with a hundred pound attitude.

There are two kinds of people, those who love their dogs like children, and those who shake their heads at such silliness. The latter group will give you a list of reasons why it's crazy to love a dog like a person. And in a way they are right, there really is no comparison. Your children, your friends, people in general, will never cease to amaze, enrage, and puzzle you. Kids reach a certain age and you never know from one minute to the next what mood they will be in. But we still love them, we forgive them their idiosyncrasies. People will screw you over in the blink of an eye, we do some awful things to one another. Dogs on the other hand only want to please, are always overjoyed to see you come home, and they expect nothing in return. It's no big secret I prefer the company of dogs to most humans. I guess I fall under that crazy category. We are going to miss Louie around here. It wont seem the same to open the door and not be greeted by 5 pounds of overjoyed fur, piss and vinegar. If there is a heaven, and if dogs go there as well, the postman better watch his ass.