I’m not a believer in the Rainbow Bridge for people or pets — though I have no problem with those that find comfort there. I doubt my wife, Betty and I will be reunited on the other side although a couple of our molecules may somehow cross paths again. But I do know that Betty will be with me all the rest of my days with a head and heart full of memories of as good a dog that ever lived. Sweet, easy going, funny, adorable, way too ready to beg for treats or a bite of what you’re eating but so darn good at it, never overplaying her hand.
In a neighborhood filled with great dogs she was literally known as the “rock star” — everyone loved Betty and she loved everyone. For the most part she preferred dog peemail to the dogs that left them — her signature move was to be all interested in an approaching dog, wagging her tail, then veering off at the last minute to steal some attention from the person at the other end of the leash. But every once in a while she fell in love, almost always with a much bigger dog. Then she would get on her hindlegs to give gentle kisses on their muzzle.
We got her back in Manhattan, at a pet shop on Christopher Street just steps from Stonewall. Yeah, I know, don’t buy dogs from pet shops. But what are we supposed to do, just leave them there to rot? As expensive as she was she was worth her weight in gold. A great traveler who criss-crossed the country with us several times. A dog that made busy New Yorkers stop in their tracks to say “oh my God!” at her unbelievable cuteness.
She got along with all our cats… as much as they’d let her. Her recent sib, Tony, outweighed her by a good 50% of her body weight and she knew who’s boss. Most of the time they peacefully coexisted rather than hanging out and snuggling, but if one of them was out at the vet or somewhere out of the ordinary they couldn’t relax until the family was complete again. Right now Tony is hiding under the bed, unusual during the day, because he knows things just ain’t right.
Betty was a Havanese — I rarely met one that wasn’t awesome — but she was awesomer. She recently made her 15th birthday. We loved her so much that we’ve been dreading this day since she was maybe 5 years old.
I couldn’t leave out this tri-species photo. My wife once trained a squirrel to take handfed peanuts through a barely open door. After a while the squirrel decided he wanted peanuts on his schedule and would knock on the window to say “Hey lady, I’m ready!” Dog & cat would meet squirrel face-to-face through the glass. Betty would get jealous that a squirrel — a frickin’ squirrel for chrissakes!!! — would get treats that she didn’t. Then there was the day when Tony (cat) reached past my wife and gave the squirrel two good whaps upside the head leaving the astonished rodent with a WTF look on his face. But he still kept coming back for more.
Betty leaves a huge hole in our lives and hearts but, as I’ve had the sad opportunity to write to far too many of you at your time of loss, the day will soon come when the thought of her brings smiles to our faces instead of tears to our eyes. For all of today’s heartache I know it’s a small price to pay for all the love, fun & laughs that our beautiful Betty brought to us every single day over a decade and a half.
We love you Betty and miss you like crazy. Thanks for all you’ve added to our lives. Rest in peace my sweet little girl.