My family had two dogs over the course of my lifetime. Both were wonderful but one in particular stands out: Casey, the Bichon Friese.
You can almost see the oracle eye on the left
First, the poor dog didn’t stand a chance. Bichon Friese is the most sissy and prissy dog breed name. I mean seriously, it is French! Second, he was brought into a family who have our share of neuroses (if you’ve read my blog you can only imagine!) Third, he was also neurotic to begin with (he was afraid of a variety of things and his fears only grew). If he could speak English I’m sure he would be the dog version of Adrian Monk.
Casey came to us through a series of events: 1) My mom saw one at a friends house and thought it was cute 2) I immediately jumped on her and my dad’s apparent pause in rational thinking, which meant they would consider getting another dog 3) He was in the newspaper for a cheap price and was already potty trained!
We of course went as a family to see him and decided within minutes that we were all in love. I remember my dad saying “He is awfully cute.” And he was. This dog chased the ball tirelessly (and still does), attacked deer and one unfortunate human (a butt bite), and scared off creatures ten times his size.
He has also acquired quite the set of nicknames. Our family is big on them and Casey was not spared our tradition. I want to explain them:
1) Weicher: A random name Evan came up with that has stuck forever, we still have no idea what it actually derived from
2) The White Rat: Yes we are horrible owners but seriously how could you think otherwise after seeing this dog wet.
3) The Oracle: Poor Casey had a series of doggie strokes and during recovery from one he banged his eye which led to blindness and eventual loss of vision. However, his loss of vision and subsequent change in the affected eye to a creepy white color has only led us to believe he is a diviner of Greek Mythology fame.
Ev was trying to force him to look at the camera, kinda worked...
4) TC: Tiny Companion which is the most logical considering he weighs less than 20 lbs and is quite the companion. Many a cry, breakup, sadness, joy, birth and death have been told to this dog and he has weathered them all.
Casey is now 15 years old and will not be with our family for much longer. His joints are creaky and we have to limit his ball time for fear of injuries. His death will mark the end of an era and I will be very sad. I do know that he has forever instilled the love of dogs into my heart and even when he is gone, my brother has recently adopted another doggie who I can love on until I get a “Casey” of my own. Introducing Calvin.
Look at those eyes