R.I.P.

We've lived in Costa Rica for 3 years and in that time span, have owned 3 dogs. I don't know many dog owners who have gone through as many dogs in that time period as we have.

I just finished reading the book Marley and Me by John Grogan. It was such a good book, surprisingly because it was about a dog. It really hit home too, because it reminded me of our last dog, our beloved Clifford who, like the dog in the story, was a lab and a bit on the rambunctious side.

Clifford was half Labrador retriever, half cocker spaniel and he came to us by chance. We had not long before lost our dog Snoopy and pining for another pet to fill the gap. I came across an ad in the paper. A women who rescues dogs, was giving away 6 month old puppy. He was free... and he was a lab, hubby's favorite kind of dog. We jumped at the chance to take our new puppy home. Our first meeting with Cliff left us a bit apprehensive. He was wild and would not stop jumping and nipping. Scared the crap out of Princess, 9 months at the time, who had come along with us to pick up our new pet.

He was so wild but at the same time he was just breath-takinly beautiful. Shiny black fur and fluffy all over. Eyes that pierced right through you. We loved him from the start. We vowed, well I vowed, I would take good care of him. Keeping my fingers crossed that he would be in our family for years to come.

Clifford fit right in with our kids and our lifestyle. The kids loved him, especially Princess, whose first real word was "Kiff" (Cliff). He was already potty trained. And he was so full of energy and spirit.

He was great with the kids and was great with us (even when he got in trouble for chewing up a few of Princess's favorite toys). We knew he would require alot of exercise and thanked our lucky stars for our big yard, the perfect place for him to run around in. Barring the the fact that the first night, as we were binging him home, he wanted to jump out of the car, he adjusted well to us.

After a while though, poor Clifford was left behind as our schedules got jam packed and left little time to play with him... and he was a playful dog. Not long after Clifford's arrival, Fatty was added to the mix and hubby started a new job outside the home. His days got a bit lonely and I could tell he was dying for more interaction.

He took to escaping. He found new ways to get out ... jumping the wall that borders our property, finding a hole in the neighbors fence, sneaking out while the gate was open as a car came or left. And a few times, he even spent the night away from home. No one knows where he slept on those nights. His escapes became more frequent and so hubby and I decided to allow him to sleep inside so as to keep him home more. Everyone loved Clifford. He was our pride and joy. We wanted to keep him safe.

Then one day everything changed. It was a Saturday morning in May. Hubby came into our bedroom crying. Cliff was dead! It was surreal. I was sad, but I didn't shed a tear, not right away. It was unreal. I just did not believe it. He was 2 months shy of being 2 and had only been with us a little less than a year and a half.

I felt like we were the worse dog owners in the world. Three dogs in 3 years, something was wrong with us. Why couldn't we keep a pet? When we first moved to Costa Rica, my father in law got Boobie a dog as a welcoming present. We could finally have a pet, and hubby wanted one so badly. We had a home and a yard.... two big criterias for pet ownership in my book and apparently in father in law's book as well.

I didn't have much say in the matter as my father in law had made up his mind that Boobie deserved, needed even, a dog of his own. I was reluctant, at first. I didn't want a pet. I had grown up with so many pets and loved them, but for some reason, I just did not want the responsibility of taking care of a dog.

When father in law brought Scooby home, I was not happy. Not at first. First off, hubby decided to put him in our spare bedroom, empty at the time, soon to be Princess's nursery. I did not want a dog in my house. The first night was wretched as Scooby pretty much cried for it's entirety.

But as he got older, he gradually took up residence in our attached carport/open garage/porch. He was love-able and followed hubby everywhere. He had settled into our lives. I began to fear for his safety though, when he started leaving the property all on his own, disappearing for hours, sometimes a whole day.

One day he was hit, and hurt by a car. I freaked. We tried everything to keep him on the property; after all what dog wouldn't love a yard like ours? But he was not happy staying home and so took to freely wandering the streets.

One afternoon as I went to the end of our private way to wait for Boobie to get off the bus from school, a neighbor approached me to inform me that our dog, Scooby, was lying dead in the front of his gate, just a few feet from me. He had seen his dead body in the road, hit by a car and had moved his body, a huge favor and a very humane thing for him to do.

As I write this now I am tearing up. I hadn't cried so hard in years as the day I saw Scooby lying dead. It hit me so hard; my overwhelming grief surprised me because he was just a dog, but he was family and he was dead.

Father in law buried him and that night hubby and I told Boobie what happened. He cried. Hubby cried. That night, I was restless. I cried so hard, my back ached. In all my pregnant months, it was the worst time I had sleeping.

We eventually moved on. Father in law quickly 'replaced' Scooby with an almost identical dog we named Snoopy. While I wasn't ready for another dog, there was no deterring my father in law. He felt Boobie deserved, needed even, another dog and so he went out and bought one.

Snoopy wasn't with us for long before he too started doing the same thing... escaping and wandering the streets. Then one day he left the property and never came back home. Hubby was in Boston and was deeply sad because he barely got to spend any time at all with Scooby. He was also fairly convinced that Snoopy had been 'dog-napped".

While both Scooby and Snoopy were small dogs, little Doberman Pinchers, I was aching for a bigger dog, like the ones I had grown up with. Clifford was perfect. Not too big and not too small. He was the pet we were looking for and at just the right time too. And he was so loyal, especially to hubby and protective of our family.

I envisioned him growing old with us. Being there as my kids grew up. Maybe even one day having kids of his own. Now, he's gone. Like Scooby, buried at the bottom of our yard, down the sloped hill where the property almost meets the running creak.

I am almost to the point where I am like "please, no more pets." We couldn't even keep the 2 turtles father in law had bought for Boobie. On one chance day, as they were sunning on a chair in the driveway, Scooby saw fit to eat them.

I just get sick thinking about what will happen to our next pet. They don't seem to survive in our home for very long. And I can't help but wonder, if they had stayed where they were before coming into our home, if they would still be alive today?

I get attached and then they die; my heart still breaks over Cliff and some days when I think back to him being here, I get depressed. I still have not come to terms with him being gone. I don't think hubby has either. While on the beach this past weekend, hubby thought he saw Clifford, a dog that looked so much like him he actually called out to the dog, "Cliff, Cliff", as if he had come back from the dead and was living a life of leisure on the beach.

Do I want another pet, another dog? I'm not sure. But I think for now, my heart needs to heal before I can open it up to another. I am still grieving the three we lost, and that we loved so dearly. RIP Clifford, Snoopy and Scooby. You are all missed.