This was another one:
Mack the Bulldog was 10 weeks old and three pounds the day I took him home and became his caregiver. He didn't like to think of himself as a "lap dog" or even "French" for that matter. He was a construction site dog, a tough little guy!
“I may be a runt, but I've got spunk!”
The first meeting with Stella, the Ridgeback, ended with Mack (5lbs) chaseing Stell (70lbs) around the kitchen. From the day Mack came home, he never left my side. In restaurants, he would lie peacefully under the tablecloth cradled in my knees. He knew the food on the table was for me and didn't even ask. In meetings he would assume the same position on my knees and fall quickly asleep, "These humans are boring".
In his pen, next to my desk on the construction site, he peered out of the cozy crate waiting for his favorite part of the Day... When all those noisy guys would leave so he could run around like a nut, ….. as if all day long, his spring was being wound. The moment we'd take our afternoon assessment of the site, the spring was tripped, off he would tear... up and down planks, through sand piles like a dog possessed until, just as suddenly as it started, he regained his sanity and collected himself.
Mack trusted me. I could pick him up in the air, on his back, his little legs would splay and he would be as relaxed as if he was spending a sunny afternoon at the ballgame (which we did). If I picked Mack up and he was on his belly, We'd play airplane, where I would hold his outstreched legs and He'd soar....
I loved my mornings with Mack, we'd awake to the alarm playing BeachBoys tunes adn roll around a few minutes and look at each other. I’d scratch, he'd nibble and lick. We'd both stretch. He'd then make a beeline for the rear doorso he could make his morning constitutional. You see, Mack was learning fast. Although he had full reign of the house, thre had only been one "accident" in the last two weeks... GOOD BOY!!!
Mack was cream colored with the most amazing eyes that would peer deep into yourr. This amazing boy seemed to be an old soul, wise and content. We were happy together.
We were enjoying each others company from morning to night, we had become a pack of two.
Last week, while I was packing for our first camping trip together, Mack (now 16 weeks and 10lbs), was enjoying a "GREENIES" Dog Treat. I heard him choke and ran over to see if I could help. I tried to dislodge the chunk that he swallowed, I COULDN’T!!! I don't even know if there is a doggie heimlich maneuver, but I was trying it. I screamed for my neighbor who came upstairs and immediately tried to find help on the phone while I was still giving Mack the Heimlich and then mouth to mouth. The poor little boy's eyes were peering into mine siently screaming "Help Me". I kept doing both mouth to mouth and attempting to dislodge the Greenie, now with kitchen utensil. While giving Mack his last mouth to mouth, he spasmed, his little teeth dug itno my mouth and I saw the life drain out of my little boy.
I clutched his limp body and curled up in my tub, sobbing hysterically, there had been nothing I was able to do to keep my little guy from suffocating.
http://quikonnex.com/channel/item/15756