His name was Bailey. He was a great dog. We got him at the humane society shelter about six years ago. We bought a house after renting for a long time, and I was going to get a dog to complete the hollywood expectation vision in my head. I'd sit on the back deck steps, he'd lean up against me. And we had a lot of those moments. But I also had the moments when I'd walk into the kitchen and find every bit of trash from the garbage can spread out on the floor.
At the humane society I had a hard time picking him out. I lurked around three or four times. I was looking for a big friendly dog. Our humane society accepts pit bulls, but I didn't think that was the breed for me. The cages, the barking, it was hard to even be there, but eventually I narrowed it down to three. Bailey at that time was called Bruno, but wasn't attached to the name. He'd been brought in as a stray and they didn't know his name. They thought he was about three. He was a big yellow lab looking dog in very good shape, very muscular, and silently kept jumping straight up and down to eye level.
When I brought my wife into this process she had a couple different choices, but we narrowed it down to Bailey and another dog she liked. Then we went into a private room with my then three year old son and brought each dog in. The dog she preferred was a little too friendly, and Ezra started crying. We decided to check Bailey out in the same way. He came in, sniffed all three of us, sniffed the room, and laid down in the corner. Perfect.
Of course he wasn't perfect. I wasn't prepared for how much work a dog would be. He was an escape artist: I don't remember how many times he ran away. I rescued him from the wire fence doggy jail behind the police station. He slipped his collar and ran out on a golf course with me behind him and I had to carry him the whole way home because I didn't have any other way to hold him.
My wife wasn't totally into the dog idea. Rita didn't grow up with dogs for pets. Dogs need a lot of care, we had a three year old and we were trying to get pregnant again. One day Ezra was headed toward the front of the house (and the busy road) while we were in the garden and Bailey interposed his body between Ezra and the front yard and herded him back to us. Rita was won over.
I know I'm writing this for catharsis. I don't post much, though I read incessantly. I don't even write very much anymore. I just needed to put this out there. I'm glad we gave him a home, and that was a good thing. But on balance he gave me so much more... he was such a good bud. He was a great dog, and I loved him very much.