Putting George of the Highlands to sleep was terrible.  That’s the only really bad thing about pet ownership – they usually precede us to the Other Side.   Jeff was about fourteen, maybe fifteen, and he was devastated.  The brothers had already flown the nest, and now George was gone too.  I can still see Jeff’s  young shoulders slumped and heaving up and down as he cried “I’ve never known life without George.”  Indeed, Jeff was four when we brought home that goofy boxer puppy. 

It’s not like I wasn’t out of my mind with sorrow also.  So.  George left us on a Thursday.  On Sunday I decided to take Jeff down to San Jose to Bay Area Boxer Rescue just to look at boxers and ease our grief.

Stop laughing!!!  

Al went with us to, as he put it, “say no.”  The truth is I had already been on that website looking at available dogs, and pretty much had one picked out.  Ed was not even considered because from the photo it looked like he had some pit bull in him.  Now, I really like a good stable pit as much as any other dog, but I just didn’t want to deal with a rescue and possible problems. 

So off we went to BABR.  We said hello to a couple of wonderful boxers but still had visions of George in our minds, so although they were as sweet as could be and did the boxer wiggle to say hello, I wasn’t particularly moved.  Then Jeff spoke up “what about that one?”

Stop laughing!!!

It was the one I had misjudged from the photo.  He had been eyeing Jeff and whining the whole time.  Cindy let him out of the crate.  Jeff knelt down and that dog just put both paws on Jeff’s shoulders and started licking his face.  The checkbook was out so fast poor Al didn’t know what happened until we were putting the dog in the car and were headed off for home. 

We named him on the way home.  Al wanted to name him Art but like everything else that day, Al didn’t get his way.  He did eventually come up with Ed and that was it.  Jeff spent the whole hour drive home keeping this rambunctious dog (the vet later guessed he was about 9 months old) in the back part of the hatchback.  This dog was wildly happy. 

When we got home he danced around the house like he couldn’t believe his luck.  I was already wondering what had possessed me.   To say this dog is “hyper” is only because there is no other word that even comes close.  Even the dog trainer had to laugh – after an hour of individual training (he got kicked out of group training because he was so nuts- in a non aggressive way, mind you, but NUTS) when any other dog would be exhausted, he was still on high alert, ready to play with whatever living creature should come into his field of vision, from an elephant to a mosquito.     Al walked out of the room for a few minutes the day after he arrived and found Ed on the dining room table eating a box of Kleenex.    Al used to work at the options exchange back in the day so this is a man who can shout over a freight train if need be. That didn’t happen a second time!  We were worried that we were not going to be able to use our ceiling fan because when we turned it on he would go whacko barking at it.  That stopped, but if you come to our home you are assured of being safe from anything in the air – including helicopters and planes.  He will tear out of the house as if to save us from an air raid.  Weird dog.

Al was looking for work at this time, otherwise none of it would have been possible.  Ed became his best buddy, keeping Al company by cuddling up under the desk where the heating duct kept both Ed and Al’s feet warm.  Al talks tough, and has pretty much said “no” to any animal I’ve brought into this house, but I have photos of him with cats wrapped around his neck like a boa, birds perched on his bald head and a long list of exotic critters that have wandered through our house over the years.  It wasn’t long before he was smitten with his little pal.

We have our theories about Ed’s background.  I think he was a college kid’s dog, possible a young lady, because he not only loves boys about that age, but when he’s going totally goofy on us, running around, barking and playing,  Al can pick up that 50 pound dog and Ed will instantly calm down and – no kidding – put his head on Al’s shoulder as if he is still a new puppy.  I can see that he was probably some college girl’s “baby” until he hit about 40 lbs.  We got him right after the first of the year, so I figure she took him home, told Mom that she couldn’t keep him and Mom said “that’s nice – take him to a shelter.”

The other theory is he ran away.  We took him to Ocean Beach once and because he plays well with others, we had him off leash.  A woman came running by with her dog and Ed joined them to play.  We finally flagged her down about 300 yards later because a) Ed wouldn’t come back when called and b) he would have happily run all the way to Oregon as long as another dog was involved.

There is one final theory.  He was drinking too much eggnog and did something outrageous and the owners kicked him out for good.  He always gets seriously sheepish when we bring the Christmas tree in.  Did he “unwrap” all the presents?  Eat the Christmas stockings, lump of coal and all?   

We will never know.  He came to us via boxer rescue in LA and his last vet appointment was in Hollywood, CA.    George was a mellow dude.  Not this dog, and not to this day.  We have no regrets. He’s about five now and still has the charm and blithe spirit of a pup.  He is truly a blessed dog; the whole world delights him.  I will never purchase another purebred dog again  -we have been repaid a hundred fold by the fun this dog has brought us.  He’s just a blast and a laugh a minute.  Right now he is lying here next to me snoring like a fairy tale bridge troll.  His beautiful brindle body never fails to reap a comment of “nice dog” when we are out on a walk through town.  He is obviously a pure bred dog, the photo was quite deceptive.  There are no AKC papers, no proper name (only nicknames I’ve given him: Eduardalino Cappulacino, Eduardini Cappellini – I’m weird too…), only Ed the Dog.   He’s been my best bud while Al was working in Irvine over the last year and I lived “alone” and I will be thanking God for the day we went to San Jose “just to look” for the rest of my life.