Sunday, December 19, 2010

Mini Me: 1999 - December 9, 2010

I can't think of a sadder way to end this decade than to say goodbye to the best dog I had the pleasure to know. Mini Me. This humble blog post tribute cannot put fully into words how I feel about losing Mini Me--about the years we spent together and everything that he was. But I want to mark it for posterity here.

It was a freezing cold January morning in 2000. It had been below zero for weeks. Very cold for New York City. While driving through Bed-Stuy in Brooklyn we stopped at a light on Classon Avenue I happened to look to my left and saw a skeleton eating from a garbage bag in the early cold light. I said to my then boyfriend, "Get him and don't let him get away."

We got him in the car and I wrapped a towel around him. Nearly frozen he managed to give me a teeny wag with the tip of his tail as we headed home. I had two other big dogs and figured, just get him in the house, then figure out what to do later. He was in such bad shape I couldn't even look at him. All bones. I could feel the outline of his pelvis. He had scars on his head. It was an awful sight. I realize until the next day that he was only a puppy, maybe about 5 months old. But he held his own with my 90-pound Alaskan Malamute and nearly as big Rottweiler.

After one night of food, sleep, warmth, and a bath in the morning, he was running around like a jack rabbit. All toes, ears, and tails flying. A funny-looking dog who grew to be magnificent. He got the nickname 'Mini Me' from the Austin Powers movie because he looked just my my big Rottie mix, only much smaller.
I wasn't going to keep him but he ended up staying.

I've never met a dog with more heart or spirit. He got me through some tough times and made me smile and laugh despite how I felt. He taught me more than I already understood about survival. Mini Me did everything in the biggest way he could--bigger than he was. Jumped higher, ran faster, find the biggest stick and would drag it over for me to throw. He'd bring half a tree if he could get it to move. A real dog's dog. He always came when I called.

A German Shepherd, Rottweiler mix of some unknown combination. When people asked, I said he was a 'Brooklyn Dingo.'
He did back flips, side flips, caught sticks and Frisbees in the air while doing a pretzel twist and then land on his feet. Mini Me was a natural guard dog. I'll miss his huge bark, his gentleness, his intelligence, sensitivity, and his sense of humor. Mini was a tail-waggin' dog who was right there with you. He was hugged and kissed everyday. We were very close and I loved him very much.

I saved him once and he saved me a thousand times.
Goodbye Mini Me. Thank you for being my dog and for loving me for just me.
If the Good Lord permits, I hope to see you in Heaven. I'll miss you forever.