On Tut.

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m sitting in my apartment in Austin, with my dog sleeping soundly in his bed. For the past week he’s been battling a back/neck injury. The pain he’s experiencing seems to be excruciating. He has rarely slept through the night. When he moves he screams (it’s a basenji thing) and it sounds like someone is being murdered. It’s really an awful sound. He screams when he tries to get into bed. When he adjusts in bed. When he tries to step onto a curb or a stair. It’s heartbreaking. I’m pretty sure my heart is literally broken. I feel helpless. I feel awful he’s in so much pain. I hate that there’s nothing I can do to make him feel better. We’ve tried pain medication, but he refuses to eat.

Within seconds of experiencing the pain, he urinates. It’s clear that the urination is a result of the pain and that he can’t control it. But because of that I’ve covered my floors, wall-to-wall, in pee pads to make clean up easier.

He turned thirteen last week. Up until then, he was doing really well. Basenjis can live, on average, 14-16 years, and there was no reason to believe 16 wasn’t a possibility. Now I’m not so sure. As I’m trying to process this possible reality, I would like to think my husband and I have given him a pretty great life full of his favorite things, but I don’t know.

I love my dog. He’s a massive pain in the ass at times, but outside of my husband, Tut is the biggest part of my life. If you’ve never owned a dog, you probably don’t understand.

My life is vastly different because of my dog.

Tut came into my life sort of purposely, sort of by accident. I was living at home after college. My mother was undergoing treatment for breast cancer. We had talked about getting a dog again but weren’t actively pursuing it with everything else going on. Then, my mom and I were at the mall and walked into a pet store. And yes, I know. Fundamentally I am completely against pet stores, but we were there and had a lot going on in our lives so looking at puppies seemed like a break from our reality. When we walked in, one of the employees was holding Tut, who had arrived at the store the day before. He was so freaking cute. Seven pounds. Giant ears. Wrinkled brow. Even though we felt dirty getting a dog from a store, we put a deposit down with plans to pick him up the next day. We told ourselves having a puppy would be a great distraction from my mom’s cancer.

Tut was a hellion as a puppy. Basenjis have a ton of energy and Tut was no exception. All that energy made him destructive. The destruction didn’t make my father happy — especially since he wasn’t thrilled we had come home with a dog.

Since a tired dog is a good dog, Tut and I went on a lot of long walks. We also started hanging out at the dog park. And yes, I mean hanging out since we would usually spend one to two hours at Wood Dale Park. Tut would run laps the entire time. He was the fastest dog in the park and loved when other dogs chased him. He had this crazy spin move. When a dog was getting close Tut would pull the emergency brake, dropping his hips and rolling on the ground a few times before springing to his feet and taking off in the opposite direction. The pursuing dogs would run past him, unable to change direction as quickly as he had. Seriously, it looked like a car chase in an action movie. People were always blown away by his stunt.

Since I was living at home and had only kept up with one person from high school, I had no friends. The daily trips to the dog park became as much for Tut as they did for me. Tut got exercise and I got to socialize. For the almost two years I lived at home Tut was my connection to a world outside of work.

When I finally moved out of my parents’ house to Hoboken, Tut came with me. At that time he graduated from sleeping in his crate to sleeping on the floor beside my bed. Because of my job we did our long trip to the dog park in the morning. I got to hang out with retirees and other self-employed dog owners. I was 27, and most of the morning crew was 40+. But it was Howie who convinced me to see Iron Man when it came out. That started my interest in the MCU. And it was Howie’s wife, Lori, who introduced me to the contractor we used to re-do our kitchen. It’s because of Tut I was invited to a Super Bowl party the first time the Giants played the Patriots and got to check out the inside of a brownstone. It’s because of Tut that Chris and I met Sue, and Chris got a tour of a really nice brownstone.

When I switched jobs, I also switched from the morning dog park crew to the evening crew. In the evening I met Mike (and Haley), who told me about his wife Jenny. For the longest time I was convinced Jenny wasn’t real because I knew Mike for months before I ever met her. I also met Eric who, it turns out, worked with Chris (at the time). Tut loved Eric and his Australian Shepherd, Hazel. Mike, Eric and I started Dog Park Happy Hour on Thursday nights. It didn’t matter if it was June or January, you could find us at the dog park conspicuously drinking. During that same time I also met, Michelle (and Molly), who is one of my closest friends. And Mary Beth (and Zara) – then later her wife, Lori (and Luna)—who I called crying tonight because I was so upset and knew they would understand. I also met Deb (with Gracie and Hobie) along with many others. It’s because of Tut that Chris and I had a network of friends in Hoboken. They had a whole table at our wedding. The dog park table. All because of Tut.

It’s also because of Tut that I met Suzy. And Jovan. And Ken and Melissa. And Libby. And loads of other people. It’s because of Tut I felt like I was part of a community when I lived in Hoboken. I could walk into King’s or Starbucks and run into someone I knew. Not in a superficial way. But in a way where I actually knew what was going on in their lives and liked hearing about their day. All because of Tut.

When we moved to Austin, something similar happened. It’s because of Tut that we met Ben and Courtney. And Matt and Arianne. And I’m currently talking with someone I met while walking Tut about building a strategic business partnership. All because of Tut.

In addition to the relationships Tut served as a catalyst for, he’s taught me a ton of lessons. He’s taught me about responsibility in a way I didn’t understand before. He also taught me about patience – although that lesson took longer to learn. And finally, he taught me about control.

You know what? I can’t make my dog poop. I can walk him to all his favorite poop spots. I can encourage him. I can try to bargain with him. I can plead. None of it matters. I cannot make him poop. You realize just how little control you have when you’ve walked a little animal around for over an hour, you can see he has to poop but refuses to do so. And once you realize how little control you have, you’re able to make peace with your lack of control. I’ve found making peace with my lack of control to be a valuable life skill.

Tut also taught me to slow down. My dog LOVES being outside. He loves sitting in the sun. So on nice Saturday and Sunday afternoons, we would spend a lot of time on the pier. Seriously, our dog was outside on average 3 hours a day on the weekends. Sometimes I would read. Sometimes Chris and I would talk. Sometimes I would scroll through my phone. Sometimes Tut and I would just people watch or stare at the NYC skyline. Sometimes we would walk around Hoboken. He knew all the places where he could get treats. His favorite was Cornerstone. But TD Bank and Shipyard Cleaners – and later the UPS Store—all sufficed. We would hit them all while strolling around. On the really hot days, he would give up and lay down in whatever shady spot he could find. People used to get a kick out of that. Sometimes I would even end up carrying him home. Given the choice of how we spent our time outside, I usually preferred walking around Hoboken because it gave me a chance to see what was happening around town. But if he didn’t want to move, all 25 pounds of him cemented to the ground.

Tut has also left a physical mark on me. I have a scar on my right arm. It’s from when I threw myself on top of him when another much bigger, much stronger dog decided he didn’t like Tut. Tut is alpha, but this was one time where my guy was entirely innocent. In that moment I didn’t care what happened to me. I just wanted to protect him. When the other owner finally got control of her dog, both Tut and I were bloodied and shaking, but we were ultimately okay.

Of course, there were times when Tut was frustrating. Early morning weekend wake-ups. His constant reluctance to go back in the house, even if we had been outside for upwards of two hours. His anxiety and inability to be left with anyone other than my parents (and later Suzy). He wasn’t great in the car. He was a true basenji and was all gremlin-y when woken up unexpectedly.

On weeknights when he was younger, if he wasn’t happy with his evening walk (which was never shorter than an hour) he would go over to the cable wire, open his mouth and stare at us as we sat at the dinner table, threatening to chew the wire until one of us got up and gave him some attention.

As he got older he started to become breedist. First, he didn’t like most pit mixes and bulldogs. Then German Shepherds. Great Danes. And then 95% of the dogs he met.

Tut has always been a stubborn dog, but as he aged it became worse. I guess that’s probably true of all of us.

It was always going to be difficult when it came time for Tut to cross the Rainbow Bridge, but knowing that it might be here is even more difficult now because for almost two years I’ve worked from home. That means that for almost two years Tut and I have been together almost every hour of every day. I literally plan my days around his walks. When we lived in Hoboken, he would spend the mornings in my home office with me, sunning himself at various spots around the room. In the afternoon, he headed to the couch to soak up the afternoon sun. You could set your watch based on where Tut was in the apartment. It’s funny because Tut doesn’t like being alone. He’s not cuddly, which is difficult because he’s so freaking cute, but he likes being in your presence. If I’m home, he’s in the room with me. The only exception was during the hours the afternoon sun was in the living room.

As I sit here, crying, watching him in his bed to make sure he’s still breathing, wanting to console him and tell him it’s going to be okay, I’m flooded with even more memories:

• Before we had even settled on the name Tut, my father and I went to visit my grandmother in assisted living and brought Tut with us. She said we should name him Pretty Face because he had such pretty face.
• When he was a puppy and slept in his crate in the mornings I would walk downstairs and say, “Good morning little munchkin.”
• When Chris and I first started dating, Tut insisted on sitting between us on anytime we were on the couch.
• The bedroom in the Hoboken apartment was cold, so we used Chris’ blanket from childhood to tuck him in at night. This became a nightly ritual, regardless of the season, and Tut would nestle in and sigh afterward.
• During his life, Tut has been obsessed with certain dogs. In Hoboken is was Gigi. In Austin it was Sage. If Tut got a whiff of either of them he did everything he could to head in their direction.
• Basenjis typically hate water. The first time I gave Tut a bath he pooped in the tub. It was gross, a little sad, and a little hilarious.
• When my parents moved, Tut loved laying in his bed in front of their fireplace. I think it was one of the spots where he was happiest.
• My father called Tut “Animal” in an effort to hide his affection for him, even though he always pet him and played hide and go seek with him when no one was looking.
• Tut loves carrots so I shared my carrots – and sometimes Doritos – with him.
• Tut always knew which side of the bed was mine, even when we were staying in a new place and hadn’t put his bed out yet.
• When I facetime with my nephew one of his first questions is always, “Where’s Uncle Tutto?”

No good dog owner thinks their dog is “just a dog.” Good dog owners know their puppies (they’re always puppies) are family members. They’re loved ones. And just like any family member, there are moments when they drive you nuts, but you love them despite their imperfections. You love them unconditionally. You love them because they make your life better.

My life is exponentially better because of Tut.

Because of that, I sit here wondering how to make him comfortable. I also wonder if he’s had a good life – if Chris and I were able to give him a good life. If we gave him enough outdoor time. Enough play time. Enough treats. Enough love.

I hope so because he’s given us so much in return.

Thank you, Tut, for everything you have given us. We will love you forever.

Tut December 17, 2004 – December 28, 2017