Tribute to Mickey

December 8, 1980 - July 15, 1996

By Elaine E. Stillwell

Reprinted with permission of Bereavement Publishing, Inc. 1-888-604-HOPE (4673).

Fortunately, I gave in when my son, Denis, begged for a Labrador Retriever for his sixteenth birthday! He named him "Michelob" which quickly shortened to "Mickey."

Five years later, when Denis was twenty-one, he and his nineteen-year-old sister, Peggy, were killed in the same auto accident. My husband, Joe, my only remaining child, Annie, and I were left in the loving care of Mickey. That precious animal, a black lab mix, has been the healing backbone of this family. How can we ever thank him for nurturing us so tenderly and completely?

We thank him for just sitting next to us, looking at us with those big brown eyes that said, "I care," doing things to make us laugh, getting us out to exercise a few times a day, licking away our tears, snuggling on the sofa or in bed with us. He got us out of bed in the morning, steered us to the refrigerator, led us to the back door, walked us gently around the block while listening to all our woes, let us cry our hearts out, and never told anybody our secrets. no money could every repay this dog for his gentle, caring therapy!

He had been spoiled rotten by three teenagers who had bared their souls to him, and he had been their constant shadow. Playing Frisbee with Denis, baking cookies with Peggy, being teased by Annie, he befriended each in a different way and was a sounding board for the ups and down of teenage-hood.

Life had been wonderful, but all of a sudden Peggy and Denis were gone forever, and three weeks later. Annie left for her freshman year at college.

Mickey walked searchingly from room to room, trying to figure out where everyone was and why it was so quiet. Eventually, he knew he had a big job on his hands: to keep us going and to make  us feel alive again.

At the train station, he'd jump out the car window to welcome Annie home from college! That cheery greeting did a lot for her heart. At home, he'd run upstairs with her, help her unpack her duffel bag and drag out anything that appealed to him. He helped "fill up" the bedroom she had shared with Peggy and made sure Annie didn't feel the loneliness of being the "only child."

At night, he'd snuggle under Annie's covers and sometimes stretch out with those four powerful legs and push her out of bed, claiming it  all for herself; or we would hear them fighting for their own territory.

When Annie wasn't around, he'd stealthily climb onto our bed and creep in between us, falling sound asleep on the electric blanket he loved. We couldn't wake up and not smile, even when visions of Peggy and Denis haunted our souls. Petting him, stroking his furry ears, or scratching his tummy gave us such peace.

We all said he had the fastest tongue in the east. Hors d'oeuvres were 'open season" and barbecue steaks had to be carefully guarded.

Keeping us all busy, he nurtured us through the rough days and made us nurture him.

When he was three years old, he developed epilepsy, which is common in labs. To prevent future seizures, he had to take daily medicine, which meant we had to make sure we gave him his pills each morning. He dutifully gobbled them up.

Whenever we were sick in bed, he'd climb right in with us and never leave our sides. He always made us feel better. That's why we called him "Head Nurse."

He'd lay by the front door each day waiting for us to return from work. We could set our clock by him.

Even when we went on trips, he sensed the exact time of  our arrival home and would be waiting to greet us wildly at the front door.

We couldn't open the refrigerator without  his being right there next to us -- appearing from out of nowhere! As I cooked dinner, he'd lay by my feet. As I ironed, he curled up under the ironing board. As I did the laundry, he marched up and down the cellar stairs with me. As I unpacked the groceries, he stuck his head in each bag and many times strutted around the kitchen with the paper bag on his head! Whenever I felt sad, his smile made me feel good all over.

All the third graders I've taught over the last fifteen years knew and loved Mickey and could write voraciously about him. They knew if they didn't do their homework, I'd have to tell Mickey and nobody wanted to upset Mickey. He was a legend in my school and especially loved since everyone knew there was no homework on Mickey's birthday.

As I faithfully walked him each day, I'd look up to Heaven and whisper gratefully to my son, "Thanks for Mickey. He makes my heart sing!"

But as Mickey approached the age of fourteen, a little slower and a tad stiffer, no longer able to leap onto the sofa or bed, but still as lovable with the same radiant smile, my husband and I wondered, "What will we do if something happens to Mickey? Will we get another dog? Should we get on before Mickey joins Peggy and Denis, or should we be free as birds and have no dog at all?"

Before we could reach a decision, the phone rang and my cousin pleaded, "I have to find a home for a two year old pedigreed black lab. Would you like to have him?"

Happily, I said to my husband, "Do you think God is talking to us?" Four days later, ninety-six pound "Max" joined our family and rejuvenated his "brother," Mickey. Becoming instant friends, they enjoyed strolling around the dining room table together, swapped their bowls of puppy kibble and mush, senior food; whispering in each other's ears; sunbathing together on the deck and riding in the back seat of the car together.

It was a wonderful year-and-a-half until our dear little Mickey's hind legs couldn't match his strong heart. Tearfully, we bid a tender farewell to our gentle, loving fifteen-and-one-half-year-old caretaker and tightly hugged his prote'ge' ...just three weeks before Peggy's and Denis' tenth death anniversaries, August 2 and August 6.

Contact Us

Float code by Lissa Explains All