“You Were the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me” – some words about our dog, Peach

Our dog, Peach, was my favorite human. 

She came to us in August 2010. I wanted a baby. Brian did not. I wanted a puppy. Brian wasn’t super into that idea either. But he had been walking through the mall on a day off and seen her. He came home and told me, “I found the dog you’ll want. If you can pick it out, you can have a puppy as your birthday gift.” We went to the mall the next day. We saw about 5 puppies. Most were young, cute, and outgoing. I think we bypassed a pug, a labradoodle and a chocolate lab. Probably others, too. My memory forgets because as soon as I saw the sad pink puppy in her cage, I had to hold her.

We asked to take her out. She was skin and bones and filthy, with caked-on diarrhea all over her. She wasn’t a little 8 week old puppy, but more like a 12-14 week gangly tween. I didn’t care. I held her against me like a baby and she laid her head on my shoulder and that was it. Brian laughed because he knew I’d want this sad excuse of a dog. We had just paid for a wedding and bought a house and furniture, so we didn’t have $2000 to spend on a dog. But we took out a pet store credit card, went to Walmart to get supplies, and came back to get our baby an hour later. 

Peach loved to play this game as a puppy

We were in no way prepared for a new puppy. Especially one who had major GI parasites and was much past the potty training window. She had no concept of holding pee and poop. She wasn’t motivated by food or treats. She came home and immediately put her bloody diarrhea and vomit on our new non-washable carpet – I don’t know which came first, but it was spectacularly disgusting. She was such a wild mess, Brian wanted to call her “Mario Kart” but we settled for Princess Peach, my favorite Mario character.

 

Daddy and Peach when the hammock got the best of her again

After our first few nights, she cried and peed on so many things, I remember crying, “I love her so much but I hate her.” We agreed if she didn’t get any better we’d have to bring her back. We couldn’t handle this, we weren’t ready to be pet parents. We had made a mistake. The agreement was if she had one more accident, she was done. The next morning, she was covered in diarrhea. I suddenly loved her so much, I couldn’t bear the idea of bringing her back to the pet store. So, I hastily scooped her up and hosed her off outside to avoid Brian knowing. In the process, I locked myself out of the house and remembered Uncle Joey rescuing us and letting us back in before Brian ever woke up to be any wiser. (I know Brian wouldn’t have made me return her, but in my sleep deprived, new mom haze, this seemed like a real threat.)

She still needed a lot of training, and while I was walking through the pet store in a post-puppy depression, we met Kim the dog trainer. She fit our budget, came to our home, and taught our girl a ton, including hide and go seek. Brian’s Uncle Paul recommended using a bell on the back door to help her potty train, and it was like a switch went off in her puppy brain. Potty training got a lot better after that, and we kept her…obviously. The only time she ever had accidents after that was when she saw her favorite people, like her Mr. Frank next door, Uncle Steve or Auntie Jojo. She learned to use her bell to tell us when she wanted to potty, eat, get water or attention. She had a different ring for each need and she was not afraid to use them.

She was our first baby. She was wonderful in the car. She’d hop in, curl up, and sleep almost the whole way there. She’d wake up and take in the scenes for the last few minutes to her destination. She was always there to greet us when we walked through the door. She was great at respecting boundaries, and learned quickly where she was and was not allowed in our home. She knew she wasn’t allowed on furniture even though she felt this one white couch in the living room was fair game while we were away. We once snuck up and caught her on it while she thought we were gone and that ended that as well!

Mommy and Peach during patio snuggles

She wasn’t perfect. She was excellent at finding the weakest link, and would try to get people to bend the rules when she could. She’d try to convince you it was OK to pet her at the kitchen table or that she really was a lap dog that sat on the couch. She created her own rule that Daddy’s lap on his LazyBoy was fair game and didn’t count as furniture and as she got older, we let her have that one. But overall, she knew and respected what was expected of her. She ate exactly one thing she wasn’t supposed to – the corner to an Ikea wicker basket – and was so upset over being yelled at that she never ate a piece of furniture or a non-toy ever again. 

Peach’s First Christmas tree experience

When I was pregnant, I had pretty awful all day sickness. Brian was in graduate school and coaching football, which meant Peach and I were home together most nights. She would sit next to me (me laying on the couch, her sitting on the floor) and rest her head on my belly, looking up with her soulful brown eyes. Every photo of my belly taken during pregnancy has her nose in the bottom corner looking up at me like, “Is my baby here yet?” I never worried about how she’d do with a baby, just about making sure she would know she was my first born and still loved.

Just a puppy and her lake

When her baby came, she was so gentle and sweet. She’d lick her feet and keep watch. If the baby cried, she was up and checking out what was wrong. If you ignored the baby crying, she’d come and get you and stare you down until you reacted. If you were doing something dangerous, like vacuuming, she’d guard her baby. She knew the cues “quiet,” “baby’s sleeping” and “naptime.” 

She took it as a personal affront if you brought a child or baby to her house and did not let her sniff and lick it. Her job in life was to make sure her family was loved and all other people were greeted. She was a terrible guard dog because she either was scared of everything or wanted to say hello to everyone. We used to joke that we’d hear an intruder because of the amount of prancing and bunny jumping in place she’d do when meeting someone new. 

Girls’ day babysitting for Nina and Sadie Bug

She was unsure about having a sibling at first. It meant sharing love for her. Yes, she liked the baby, but she wanted her mommy and daddy all to herself. But then, the baby started to move. Peach liked to make sure she didn’t move too far from her space by gently licking her toes to wiggle her back into place or laying as a barrier when all else failed. There are few baby pictures of Nina where Peach is not in the background. When the baby started eating solids, best friends were made. Peach was always happy to help clean up a baby mess and I was more than happy to let her. Have we mentioned that Nina’s first word was “Deech”? It was. Peach was that much more loved over “mama” and “dada.”

Our girls were two years apart, so of course there would be friction. I loved watching them work through things like fetch, or who gets custody of Sophie the giraffe. Spoiler alert – Peach liked it more and inherited Sophie by being patient and waiting. One of my favorite memories of the girls is a twisted one. Nina was two and had just learned about Snow White and poison apples. I was feeding the girls lunch as usual and here is our conversation.

Me:** for the 100th time in my life** Don’t feed the dog grapes, they’re poison.

Nina and Peach: **Guilty faces**

Me: Did you feed her grapes.

Nina: Only a few.

Me: They will kill her.

Nina: We could take her to the doctor.

Me: Nina, this is serious. Stop feeding her grapes.

Nina: It’s OK, Mommy, we’ll just kiss her because we “true love” her.

I promptly punished Nina for trying to kill the dog, and as she wanders upstairs toward time out, I hear her sing song, “Now I’m the fairest in the land.” Somehow, these two survived this stage, but it was touch and go sometimes for our sweet, trusting dog. As Nina got older, she understood that Peach would someday not be with us and got much better at loving her instead of trying to kill her to be the fairest (or get a kitten). I used to joke with Nina that Peach was my favorite child. 

When there were three grandbabies

We started fostering in 2019, and this was something I wasn’t 100% sure how Peach would do with, but we went for it anyway. She didn’t disappoint us. She was gentle, sweet, and sometimes maternal. She’d get annoyed that someone else was getting love that wasn’t her, but she never took this out on anyone. She helped hundreds of kittens learn that dogs are safe and can be as non-threatening as furniture. She was very intimidated by any baby hiss or swat, which was quite adorable and hilarious since she could have fit most of our fosters in her mouth. 

Peach had a million amazing qualities. She knew who to side with in an argument, and would console the deserving person. She was so happy it was contagious. She was gentle in a way that a 75 pound being should not be. She was accepting – if you were kind, you were her type of person. She was quick to forgive and quick to love. She was forever our best friend. Through our divorce, she was kind, non-judgmental and flexible in a way I would not expect from an old dog, and I’m so thankful she stayed happy throughout. When people get divorced, we always worry about the children and Peach was my biggest concern. She may have technically been my 24th birthday gift, but she was Brian’s dog at heart. 

She was always down for a selfie or a snow day

The times I’m finding I’m missing her most are in the quiet background moments. She would lay by my feet as I did any chore – laundry, dishes, cooking, computer work, homework help, etc. She would eat any dog safe leftover without complaining – unlike other people in my household…. I think now, who will eat all my compost, because she was my girl to eat all produce cast offs, pizza crusts, and always half any banana – no exceptions.

Her Uncle Brandon

She moved her bed as a young dog over and over and over again to the bottom of the stairs until we finally let her have that win. She did this to guard us at night and greet us in the mornings. Walking in to see her “watch point” empty feels overwhelming, but leaving her empty bed there felt worse. While we were gone for the day, she’d sleep in the laundry room by the door we used for exit and enter so she’d be that much closer to say, “Hi.” As soon as you came home, she’d bark to be let out to happy dance around you, even though she hasn’t been able to do this for some time. I missed not having to gently move her hulking body out of the way to get into the house, or hear her barking her hellos. 

I missed her while putting out the trash, checking the mail, and just sitting on my stoop, because she’d be my cheerful shadow that rarely ran far away, if at all. How many times did she and I watch our girl play chalk or blow bubbles or wander around the yard under our watchful eyes. I missed her as I came to her feeding times during the day, and she wasn’t here to try to get extra hobbit-like meals like second and third dinners. I missed her as our “Alexa” reminded me it was time for her medications. I missed her as I went upstairs and felt guilty not tucking her in, kissing her head and telling her she was a good girl. I missed not hearing her click clack around downstairs as she checked all the doors for the night before moaning and settling onto her memory foam baby crib mattress.

Licking her baby back into place

I will miss her company on the patio, as that was her and my thing. I will miss debating if taking her for a walk is worth her legs being sore, because she loved to get her girl from the bus stop. I will miss her puppy breath and her dust puppies wandering through my house. I will miss her pretending to be old, blind, and confused because she didn’t like my request, and then watching her do it for her dad.

Hedgehogs were her favorite, she was always good for comic relief and a car ride with a widow view made her happy

I’ll continue to tell stories of how she was offended and confused at the dog park (She was a human after all, why did we bring her THERE?), and the happiest girl at the block when invited into the kid park (the obvious place for a sweet girl like her). I’ll continue to laugh at the one time she escaped, and how she ended up wandering to our front door and was patiently waiting for me to let her in as I was racing out to go find her. I’ll continue to cherish all the weird things she did, like lick people’s feet clean and believing that rabbit poo was a delicacy. 

She was my first born, my first introduction to motherhood, my first pet as an adult, and my puppy love. I’m thankful to our girl for all the amazing memories, and I’ll miss you more than words can say here. I’ve known this day was coming since the day we got her. It would be unrealistic to think a dog could live forever, but it still feels eternally wrong not to say good morning and good night to the being who loved my whole family most of all. 

This has absolutely nothing to do with pelvic floors, except that training your bladder can be like training a puppy. I just needed to share what an amazing dog we had, and how I may be a little sad due to her loss and adjusting to life without her.

Perfectly yours,

Dr. Mo