For My Little Old Man 4/1/95 - 6/17/11 RIP Boogie Mann

Lost in the Wild
Dog Days Column – by Boogie Mann for the Twisted Muse Blog Letter

I know my pack (family). I know my den (my way home). I know my territory (neighborhood). Maybe I’m getting a little high in age (older than dirt) but I know my way around (I am confident of my whereabouts at all times). On a normal day in paradise I was walking along minding my own business when a woman shot out from her den (domicile) and attacked me (chased me out of her yard).

It was starting to get dark (around 8-8:30pm CST) on the Sacred Day when there is peace in the household (Sunday when the kids aren’t home until late). The pack was at play and I was patrolling our territorial borders (pissing on everything I could find) as it is my job to protect the pack from any intruders (bark mindlessly at other dogs, people, and anything that moves quite frankly, for no particular reason other than to make myself feel useful). There I was in familiar territory (a place I hadn’t been in a long time) heading home for the night. I came upon many large wooden slats pressed together (a fenced in backyard), an obstacle I had not encountered before (who put this thing here?).

I was in her backyard but only passing through (walking wherever the hell I pleased) when she pounced on me (no, I didn’t see her coming).Now I admit I am not as keenly sensed as I was in my youth (I ain’t got it all in the head no more), yet my sense of surroundings was still sharp (I thought I still had my shit together). I soon found myself headed for home but there were a few more obstacles in my way that I had not encountered before this day (she scared the living daylights out of me and I got turned around). As she drew closer, I picked up speed leaving her far behind (so I ran like hell).

After this unexpected encounter I returned to marking territory (I got back to business) and started home again. It was then that I realized my path was altered (I was lost). More and more time went by as I made my way around the obstacles (I was getting most lost by the minute), which seemed to pop up out of nowhere (I had no idea where the hell I was now). However, being the steadfast guard dog that I am (I got scared) I continued in the direction of Home Sweet Home (I just wanted to be home).

Wandering in the wild I had much time to think (the sun was going down and I was getting deeper and deeper into the woods). I thought about my warm beds (everywhere I squeezed in to sleep) and my odd but loving alpha female (my owner). I was growing quite tired as I have never walked so long before in my life (my owner was a lazy bitch, sometimes). I continued in every confidence that she would find me any minute and take me home (she better come save my ass).The more time that went by, the longer I walked. These trees seemed endless (where the hell am I?) and darkness was upon me.

I curled up on the cold hard twigs and tried to sleep. The obtusely large forest beasts were about (the deer scared me). At dusk they appear from deep in the forest (well no, I didn’t see them coming either), treading lightly, moving carefully. Here in the thicket of their domain they strode about with strength, force, and agility (deer are some big mutha’s). I barked endlessly, keeping the beasts at bay with my show of force (barking and whining) and kept watch throughout the night until I collapsed of exhaustion (I fell asleep, I’m old what do you expect?)…

…been wandering for days (three days, two nights) and have lost the scent of home. The trees look alike and the beasts in the wood have gone and left me alone. I hear the sounds of humans here and there but none of them are Mine. I wonder if I will ever find my pack again. I just know if I keep looking, I will find them because they need me as much as I need them.

My poor boy was brought home to us by a neighbor that lived near a wooded area off of Green Hills Road up near where we live. She told me that same morning, April 12, 2011, that she had seen a small dog wandering around in the woods near her home off Greensboro. Now, had I thought at all about where Green Hills Road was in proximity to us, I would have figured it out much sooner, although word had come to me through our Veterinarians Office that a small schnauzer had been found the day before. It was not My schnauzer but a puppy a woman had lost up the street from the woman who found the puppy lived. (Hope you followed that.)

Anyway, at around 6:30PM this neighbor whose name I Still Don't Know, drove into my driveway and asked me to come and see if this was my dog. She opened the back door and my heart was pounding, I had prayed all the way from the front door to this point that it was my pretty boy. There was a smallish, trembling and dazed looking dog standing on the back seat's floor. He had on a red harness she had used to lure him out of the forest.

So, to make an even longer story as short as possible (as if), I got my little old man back the evening before my 40th Birthday on April 13th. Yay me! To my dismay and surprise, I had to make "the decision" to end my precious Furry Child's life on June 17, 2011. He had a large cancerous tumor, which was Not painful or malignant, however it Had grown so enormous for his little body that it broke through his skin and continued to Grow OUTSIDE of his body! It's true that fact is always stranger than fiction, indeed.

The afternoon of June 17th Boogie tripped going down the wooden patio stairs and created a "break" between the tumor and his body, and it bled profusely. What's worse is my Children (6 & 9) saw it happen and watched him the whole time. The tumor had gotten so Heavy, Boogie could not walk well anymore, and that was Aside from the arthritis he already has in both his back legs...so, it was an extremely difficult decision to make and I had been thinking about it after 2 Veterinarians told me there was literally nothing they could do to help him for one reason or another.

So, with an enormously heavy heart, I kissed him on his soft little snout and said, "I'm sorry, boy." My husband carried him out to the Van wrapped in a towel as the blood fell down his leg, and my 6 yr.old daughter followed them out. He took Boogie to the Vet's office, walked into the back examination area and set him down on the table. He requested to have him put to sleep. Signed the papers and let my daughter pet him before leaving the room...he couldn't stay to watch. I felt comforted by that.

I had raised Boogie from the Runt of the litter until that day and he was Very Much a part of our family. He was My Furry Child (on a photo album cover for pets), my "Mann," my first "Son," my only "Child" for 8 years before I had my 9 yr.old son. My Beloved Companion, my absolute most loyal friend, protector, confidant, and sidekick.

I will never forget my man, Boogie Mann. The one I dubbed "Pretty Boy," my little hairy ass dog, my grumpy little old man. My closest friends and family won't soon forget his annoyingly sharp bark or all the jokes I made about him being "My Man" and all the amusing commentary I made on his behalf about calling me his bitch. Don't ask, LOL. It's been just over a week and the guilt killed me the first week. The last two days have gotten better. My daughter is still asking about him and says that she misses him a Lot. I still cry when I think of him and how he might still be alive had I TRIED harder? Looked longer? Gotten a 3rd or 4th opinion on any surgical options? I don't know...but it will be a minute before we get another dog, which of course, my kiddos wanted the same Day! Miss Diva wants a puppy named Emma 0.o Oh-kay

Now is a most opportune time to teach my young kids about death, and life, and grieving properly to get through these tough times. It is Extremely Important to allow yourself time to Grieve the loss of your pet, especially if you are as close to them as I am :) Obviously Boogie was an integral part of my family, our home, and our lives in general. We will feel his loss greatly, but we will be thankful that we had the greatest pet a family could love. Rest in Peace boy. We miss you.

-emg-

Final Thoughts on The King of Pop!

Friday morning, the Steve Harvey Morning Show re-played their recording of the first ever "live" international radio show interview with Michael Jackson in 2001! MJ said himself that he has never called in to any morning radio program before that day. I wake up every weekday morning to Steve Harvey's Morning Show and the Crew because he starts my days off with some healthy laughter!

For the first time since MJ's death, I finally missed him yesterday. They were paying homage to MJ because they are burying him tomorrow and/or it's his birthday. Whatever the case, it was Great to hear from the man himself! Instead of hearing a journalists point of view, a stiff reporter, or anyone else for that matter.

Michael said he was a "big fan" of Steve Harvey's and that Steve did a skit about the Titanic in The Kings of Comedy that Michael thought was hilarious. Now, I feel bad for not missing or grieving for MJ sooner! Long before his death, I was desensitized to news of MJ for one reason or another. Either it was too trivial, {I believed it was} false, or it no longer interested me. I grieved for Michael Jackson a LONG time ago, when his appearance changed so drastically that I no longer recognized the person I fell in love with -- along with the rest of the nation.

Of course, Steve & the Morning Crew have a way to make you care about anyone he talks about. I love Steve Harvey. It also brought to mind the post Danny Quinn wrote about MJ having dinner with them one evening. Steve, of course, had MJ cracking up on the phone! Hearing Michael's own words, reactions, and laughter brought it all home to me in a way I did not expect. Nor was I prepared to handle. So, I had to share this with whoever wanted to read it.

Michael Jackson was born the seventh of nine children on August 29, 1958 in Gary, Indiana. That's how I'll remember him. That cute kid up front in the Jackson 5! The skinny guy with the short fro who sang the greatest songs I knew all the words to; That phenomenal entertainer whose videos I could perform its entire routine to in our living room for Mama, EVERY SINGLE TIME it came on TV...that's who I will always see and who I will miss, dearly.

For the record, during the time of PYT, Thriller, Billie Jean, Beat It, etc. was when I personally thought MJ's appearance was both astounding and perfect. And I never really forgave him for being so ashamed of his God given features that he felt the need to go off the deep end with surgical procedures to alter them...but that wasn't him; not really. That was an outward appearance that only served to darken the glow of his inner beauty the rest of the world clung to about him. Now I know. And I will never forget it.

To Read The Article Steve Harvey Referred To Repeatedly, Click Below:
http://www.buttonmonkey.com/misc/maryfischer.html

To Read A Weird Blog About This With Several More Links Throughout The Article:
http://www.slumdance.com/blogs/brian_flemming/archives/000470.html

-emg

Picture is of GQ's Cover Page for the 1994 Article