Doggy Heaven - Share and pay tribute to departed best friends

Hemmie

Age 10, ~1994 - March 29, 2004

Hemmie's sunny disposition and resilient spirit were absolutely amazing.

Nickname: Da Hemmster, Mr. PEEbody, Roller-Dog (near end of

My nephew and his wife gave me a unique birthday gift after Beemer died: a year of cage sponsorships at Rescue Village (http://www.geaugahumane.org/gallery/index.html). The first dog sponsored was Nowee. I received her picture and story in their snail-mail. She was an older, chubby, female Norwegenian Elkhound.

I considered the proximity of Nowee's picture to Beemer's passing to be a sign. Two days later... not wanting my own pudgy Mongy to be an "only dog"... I drove the 20+ miles there, accompanied by Tara, the neighbors' dog-lovin' granddaughter, and Mongo B. (After all, if Nowee was to be Mongy's buddy-dog, I had to see if they got along, right?) Upon arrival, I was told Nowee had already been adopted. I considered that a sign too! I turned to leave. That's when I learned that a ten-year-old does NOT let you off that easily. We were there, she persuaded me, to get some other dog for Mongy. And so we were.

Mongy was eight, so I sought an older partner. After a second trip around their indoor dog-runs, we decided on Hemmie. All the other dogs came to the gate to do a commercial for themselves. Hemmie sat as far from his gate as possible. He appeared to be a boxer-pit mix, and his sad expression led me to believe he'd given up on being adopted. They took Hemmie to a large exercise pen in the back, and we brought Mongy from the car to meet him. Instant bond! After a bit of paperwork, we were headed home.

Hemmie spent the next six weeks "marking" indoors. (The cage tag said "housebroken", but Hemmie's behavior sure didn't fit MY definition!) I still don't know whether he caught on to the concept of goin' potty outside or had just marked everything he wanted to mark. Either way, I was happy it was over.

Hemmie loved riding in the car to the parks, and he loved Mongy. They romped and slobbered and did all sorts of doggy-fun-things. We had Hemmie just over a year when we noticed a lump along his spine: hard, immovable, sinister. He was diagnosed with bone cancer in early October. Its position made it inoperable; the vet gave him three months. A tough day! About two months later, the tumor's growth resulted in paralysis. With the help of a K-9 cart (formerly Roxie's), Hemmie was still able to go on walks for the remaining four months of his life.

While Roxie was intimidated by the K-9 cart, Hemmie immediately realized it was his key to mobility. On his first try, he crashed. (Jumped off our three-step back porch.) On his second try, he rolled-over in the first turn. (Took it at breakneck speed.) On the third try? Success! Hemmie was very happy to be out again. He was so happy, I composed a song for "Roller Dog", to the tune of Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again".

On the walk again,
I can't wait to go on the walk again!.
The life I love is sniffin' new smells with my friends,
And I can't wait to go on the walk again.

At first, our walks were as long as they were when his back legs worked... about two miles... but the cancer took its toll and we spent his last days on our own street. (Mongy wasn't happy with short walks, so I finally divided the pack by taking her walking without Da Hemmster.)

Hemmie died at home, in my arms. When I realized what was happening, I said, "Hemmie, if you see a Light, go for it." I also promised to spread his ashes where he'd first done "jet legs"... and I did.