Good night, sweet Mickey
Good night, Sweet Mickey, you were a good dog. From the moment we rescued you more than 11 years ago until you took your last breath this morning. We’d wanted a Mickey to go with our beloved Minnie and found you that incredible morning on A Home for Spot and read the story about how you were turned over to their care.
You were found that day, long ago, by a person in a neighborhood. You were wandering. lost. You were not micro-chipped and no one knew your story. The person who found you saw you were in need, met up with a person who was a foster for A Home for Spot and turned you over to her. You were posted online shortly after a medical evaluation and figured you were good with children. You were just a cute, white, fluffy toy poodle maybe 1 or 2 years old. When we saw you, we knew you belonged with us. We were so excited to meet you when you first came up for adoption. We wanted to be the first there. I got there with my sons half an hour before the rescues were to arrive. My wife and daughter were at the ice center for skating lessons. Katie wanted to get there immediately and was afraid to ask her skating instructor, Camella if she could leave early to adopt a dog. They got there five minutes before the adoption opened up. We were the first in line. We fell in love with your personality, your intelligence, your playfulness, and how incredibly-cute you were. They told us they called you Jasper but we knew that wasn’t your name. We found our Mickey.
From the start, we knew you belonged with our family. We were worried because A Home for Spot needed to do a home visit to ensure our home was a safe, loving place for him. We did not need to worry, the representative knew this was his home. He had all that a dog could want – nice air-conditioned house, covered patio, swimming pool, lots of grass, and an in-ground trampoline. What a paradise for him. Plus, it came with another dog who loved him, three children who would play with him and keep him busy, and a mom and dad who adored him.
You were such a brave dog. You never failed to protect us from getting hurt by the big, bad vacuum cleaner. Every time we would take the vacuum out to clean the floors, you were there, barking and challenging the vacuum, “Don’t you dare hurt the family” you seemed to say. When we got different vacuum cleaners, you quickly figured out they were evil, too. Whether it was the shop vacuum, the leaf vacuum/leaf blower, or the pool vacuum, you were there protecting us.
You were such a caring, concerned dog. You took your lifeguard seriously. And you were good at it. Everyone safely swam in our pool thanks to your diligence. You would run around the deck of the pool, watching intently, barking safety instruction to ensure we were safe. When your baby brother, Tommy, would swim you were there. And when Tommy would swim under the water, you thought the world was coming to an end. But then Tommy would surface and you relaxed a little bit.
You were also very opinionated. You knew what you wanted and weren’t afraid to tell us. If you were cuddling with the person you wanted, nobody could take you. Your growls were enough to tell us that you’re where you needed to be. If we tried to make you do something you didn’t want, you would also grrrr out your warning, unless we had food or treats.
We often felt you were Super Dog. You were the most athletic young dog we had ever seen. You would jump from the edge of the carpet in the family room and fly easily 8 feet through the air to land on the couch next to us. When the children (ours and the neighborhood) would be out playing in the back yard, jumping on the trampoline, you were there. You would join in and jump with the children. It was always the most fun. We never knew who had more fun, you or the children. Sometimes, you would time your jump just right to take advantage of the children’s jumps and I swear, you were going to hit your head on the moon.
Just a few short years after we got you, we lost Minnie, your adopted sister. You were lonely and sad and miserable without your doggie sister. We searched and rescued a Shih-Tzu Poodle cross, Roxie the Rock Star (her story is for another day) who was just an 8-week-old ball of black fluff. You discovered how fun a baby sister can be and how annoying she could be. But more importantly, you discovered the joy of stealing puppy food. And it showed. You put on weight and slowed down. But you still had a heart full of love and would still move all around the house looking for cuddles.
We then moved into our current house, with your grand parents. It was a bigger house, with more people to love you and two more dogs to keep you company. Your grandmother loved you so much. Between stealing Roxie’s food and your grandmother spoiling you to death, you continued to grow bigger. You were top dog around this house. We lost my grand parents dogs not too long after that so it was back to you and Roxie. But you were number one.
We could see you were slowing down. Walks were getting tougher and you got tired quickly. But you still wanted to go for walks. You enjoyed riding in the doggie stroller when you couldn’t walk much more. You had a way of looking up at us and saying with your eye “Uppie, please” and we would pick you up and carry you or place you in the stroller. You loved the stroller since you could see everything and still do all the great sniffy-sniffs. But I think you secretly loved being carried, more. Because when you were in our arms, you would always get those delightful, heavenly ear scritches, scratches, and rubs.
We thought we were going to lose you last year when you fell off the couch, hurt your back, and couldn’t walk. We thought we would have help you cross the rainbow bridge and join all the other well-loved dogs and cats. We rushed you to the vet and expected the worst. The doctor took a look, ran some tests, and did some x-rays and thought you badly injured your back and that medicine might help you feel a bit better, but you may never walk again. He then went into the back room to get you back after all the blood tests and bring you to us. He set you down near the door and you ran full speed into your mom’s arms. It was a miracle. Or at least a mom, they’re the same thing, you know. A bit of medicine and you were better, but still walking funny and not able to jump.
You learned how to adapt. You’d tell us with your eyes that you wanted down off the couch and we’d lower you down to go off and get some water or to go outside. When you come in, you;d walk toe the couch and tell us “Elevator please. Second Floor.” And we’d pick you up and set you next to us. You start with one family member and sit closely, wanting scratched and cuddles. You’d get plenty of those. Then you’d realize there was another family member on the couch who needed you and you’d get up and go to them. You’d continue this and cycle through everyone on the couch only to repeat. But these past few weeks your energy went down. You wanted more cuddles and would melt into our arms with the most loving look on your face. You were happy.
This morning when I left too early in the morning, I gave you a few ear scratches like I normally do, just to say goodbye for the day. You’d asked your mother for your usual morning treat as she left for work and enjoyed it, then stole Roxie’s. We didn’t know this would be your last morning. Mid-morning, you went outside and laid down on the ground to take your last nap in the sun, warming your old bones. My daughter, your people-sister, found you. She misses you, Buddy. We all do. Cross that rainbow bridge and visit with all the other puppy and kitty friends. Wait for us on the other side. And know that we have a Mickey-sized hole in our hearts as we miss you so.
Mickey
Unknown-Feb 10, 2025
= new reply since forum marked as read
It sounds like Mickey enriched your lives greatly. 
Healing vibes on the way to you & your family. 
Just know we’re with you and very sympathetic, because many of us have had to go through this, too. Like Shakespeare once said, “parting is such sweet sorrow.”
Many hugs to you, Jerry2144.
It reminded me of my own little Bandit. I found him in the alley alone, scared, very thin. I'm am guessing he was about three months old, maybe closer to two. He was a pit bull mix, not a breed I very much cared for. I offered him to a friend of mine that had just lost his dog, a poodle. He refused, as did everybody else I inquired to. It did not take long for me to become very attached to the little mutt. About two months later after feeding him the best dog food I could buy, he looked great. Whenever I would walk him around the neighborhood, everybody would stop us and remark how beautiful he was. Unfortunately he became ill soon after, I thought he had a stomach bug of some sort. He was still eating and drinking, but his appetite was very low. On our last night together, I put him at the foot of my bed to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I found he had gone down to the floor, and he was gone. I sobbed all that day.
I'm so sorry.
The love you and your family have for Mickey just oozes from your words.
