Trouble is in Doggy Heaven.

Trouble

Age 14, April 01, 1996 - December 01, 2010

TROUBLE- A word of several meanings. To us she was nothing but joy. Rest peacefully our love.

Nickname: Trub, Trubby

TROUBLE- A word of several meanings. To us it meant nothing but love, companionship, warmth, and surprise!

Trouble passed away, peacefully on Wednesday, December 1st, 2010. An unfortunate day for many reasons. Not only did our beloved Trouble pass away this day, but I was out of town and unable to get home quickly. And just as unfortunate was the fact that my youngest daughter Jen was the one who had found Trouble dead. This is not something a child (even though she is 25) should ever have to do, find her family pet deceased. I say a million times, over and over, I should have been home, not that anything would of changed, except, perhaps, the guilt.

Trouble came to us as a puppy, one of 11. Her pregnant mother was tied to the doorstep railing at the Westbrook, Me. Animal Shelter, and there is where she was born. We selected Trouble as a family pet and graduation gift for our daughter Michelle, back in 1996.
An adorable, fun-loving pup she was. However it was seen learned of her uncanny knack for wanting to fine food, food that wasn’t hers. It could be a loaf of bread left on the sideboard counter, it could be a wrapper discarded in the trash, it could be the recycle bin, or it could even be food meant for human consumption at dinner time. If it was there, accessible or not, Trouble would find it and consume it.

Some of our fondest memories if one can say that are to follow:

Once I remember my wife, Pat calling and saying that she had prepared a “Sheppard’s pie” dish for supper and that it was in the refrigerator and when I got out of work all I had to do is simply head it up in the oven. Well after looking top to bottom in the refrigerator, and not finding it, I assumed that my wife’s plans had changed and she didn’t have a chance to follow though with the planned dinner. Later when she got out of work, I explained and questioned what had happened and why dinner plans had changed. Looking a bit perplexed, she stated she did fix the pan and it was right here! Well it was here, though nowhere to be found now. After questioning Trouble and seeing a guilty look if a dog has such a thing, we began to search the house for a trail of this planned supper. After not finding even a trace of cream-style corn we were dumbfounded. Continuing our search, the empty pan, licked totally and sparkling clean was found hid deep beneath our bed, out of sight and what Trouble had hoped, out of mind. YES, she had managed to open the refrigerator, seek out her prey, consume it and hide the evidence. YES, Trouble at her best.
This was not to be the first, nor the last time we ever experienced anything like this. Matter of fact, we quickly learned that we had to secure the fridge daily before heading out to work. At one time we used to bungee cord it shut, later we would slide the kitchen table up against the door of the fridge. We soon learned that by doing that, it only allowed Trouble to climb on the table to see what was hidden on top of the refrigerator, which allowed her to enjoy boxes of dry cereal stored above. YES, Trouble at her best.

I remember another incident, when Pat had called and said that we’d be having pasta, sauce and meatballs for dinner, and that the cooling/cooled meatballs were in the oven and all I had to do is to put them in the crockpot of cooking sauce. An easy task, to say the least. Well it did turn out to be a bit more difficult for me because for starters, I could not even find the pan of cooked meatballs. Come to find out, Trouble, looking guilty as ever, had gone into the oven, removed the pan of meatballs, ate every single last one of them, licked up any possibly spilled grease, and proceeded to hid the pan as in the past, in her favorite hiding spot, beneath the sanctions of the bed. As in the past, not a shred of evidence to be found. YES, Trouble at her best.

I recall once, when living on Exeter St. that I had just gotten a brand new zippered lunch bag. After making a nice lunch for the day and heading out to work, I remembered I forgot this bag on the kitchen table. As I stopped backing out of the driveway, pulled back in, and rushed upstairs, all in about 60 seconds, the bag was gone. My brand new, never used lunch bag was gone. Searching around, I had discovered that Trouble had managed to snag the bag, ignored the zipper option and totally shredded the bag to enjoy it’s contents, all this in a matter of seconds. YES, Trouble at her best.

Each and every time Trouble would perform such a maneuver, she would give you this “dog-eating” grin, and her big brown eyes would bounce around in her head as if to say, “I didn’t do anything”, or “Yeah, so you caught me”. You could almost read her mind as to what was going through that doggy head of hers.
Doggie bones – she loved em. We’d buy the meat marrow bones and let her sit for hours upon hours, day after day, removing every bit of meat, gristle, and marrow from those bones, only later to find them buried everywhere in the backyard.
TROUBLE- also loved people and she would show this by barking, non-stop at any truck, car, bicycle, baby carriage, oil truck, mail truck, or person walking by the front of the house. Dennett Street (at least out front) was Trouble Street, and she let everyone know it. Thank God, I know the mailmen and work for the USPS, cause they tolerated her, I would of never delivered mail to the house, behind closed doors or not. Of course I was severely bitten by a Sheppard around the age of 7, so always been leery of other dogs. Somehow, you learn to think, and know that you can trust your own dog.

In 1999, after Michelle, our oldest had moved out, and bequeathed Trub into our ownership, we bought a house. It was at this time after careful thought and consideration that we were going to place Trouble into a Animal Rescue League for adoption. With the timing right, no Michelle, a new house, new furniture, new surroundings. The time seemed right for getting a new home for Trouble. We did not want a place that would euthanize her however at any cost. We did find a shelter in Brunswick that will take pets and keep them forever as long as they remain healthy and non aggressive. This is what we were looking for. After packing up all of Trouble’s worldly belongings, her toys, bedding, yard dog runs, etc. and after I wrote a lengthy letter to her new prospective adoptive parents, on what Trouble liked and disliked (though nothing she really disliked), she was on her way, hopefully to just as happy surroundings, from which she had been raised. After paperwork, and a fee, Trouble and her worldly possessions were dropped off and left behind. After crying all the way back home, mom and I questioned whether we had made the right decision. By the end of the weekend, we knew the answer. We had been fools, made a stupid decision to put her out for adoption, knowing we could not live without her. First of the week, we went back to Brunswick in hopes of retrieving her, much like a lost and found item, she’s ours, now give her back. Come to find out it didn’t work that way in reverse. We proceeded to do the paperwork, pay the fee, and adopt back what was rightfully ours a mere 48 hours ago. Alas, Trouble was on her way back home to us, to a new home to her.

In later years, Trouble’s family would expand. Our oldest daughter Michelle would start bringing her newest pet “Belle” over to us, several times a seek to doggy babysit during the day. Belle is a wonderful, lovable, She-poo who honestly seems sooo human and not a mean spirited bone anywhere in her body. Trouble and her new cousin Belle grew to become the closest of friends. And later after that Michelle would add another pup, “Cammie” a cute but hyper Dachshund mix. Although Cammie was part of Trouble’s life, it clearly was Belle, whom she gained a close bond and love for. So unfortunate that the day Trouble passed and I was out of town, it was Belle who laid by Trouble’s side on the couch for countless hours till I arrived home. My youngest Daughter, who had found Trouble once she passed, peacefully and respectfully cover her body over till I could make it home. It was Belle who laid side by side with her until that moment. Clearly she knew what had happened, and this was her way to respect and grieve her lost cousin.

Shortly before Trub passed away, we adopted a Shih-tzu named Isabelle. Isabelle was the discard of a poor economy, having been abandoned by her owners after their house was foreclosed on and they were evicted. Some say this is what lead to the passing of Trub, perhaps a broken heart, a sense of betrayal, but nothing could be further from the truth. Some say that Trub was suffering, again, I say not and would never allowed her to suffer one second of pain; had I thought as much I would have had her put down peacefully. Remember, for 14+ years, this faithful companion walked at my side, ate at my side, greeted me at the door when I came home, took walks with me, sat for countless hours gazing and looking out her favorite window. She even slept upstairs with us, every single night until the stairs did start to become too much for her.

I sometimes wonder if it is I who is sick and needs attention. I ache as much today as I did the day she passed away. Many nights, I’ll cry myself to sleep just asking, pleading, for a sign that she is ok. In my heart I know she is fine, it is in my head that cannot understand. I even have googled pet psychics now tell me that is the sign of an educated, mature person. I know she is fine. Although we had her cremated, we did not want her ashes back. I chose instead, to let her go on to her new world as a whole, undisturbed, for continual pleasant journeys. I often wonder why it seems that no one else is as disturbed and bothered by her passing as I seem to be. That is why I wonder if I am the sick one.
I also feel for my sister Cheryl who lost her longtime beloved companion pet Shadowe. She ended up having to put her down to avoid any prolonged suffering. Ironically, both Cheryl and myself have made small memorials within our homes for our beloved pets. Both of us speak daily to our departed pets. Although we know they are safe, and having a ball in “doggy heaven”, it does not make it any easier.

To Trouble, my beloved companion, I miss you tremendously and with all my heart, I loved every waking moment with you even in your bad times. I truly hope you are in doggy heaven and enjoying perpetual sunshine, cool lakes, boundless doggy buffets, and countless fellow friends, new and old. I pray you forgive me for not being there in your hour of need. It was not intentional, and I would of sacrificed that trip in a millisecond if I had even thought you needed me. God I love you, God I miss you. I hope we can be together someday! Rest in peace my dear companion, I love you.

Dad & Mom & Kids Greenlaw
www.doggyheaven.com
search for pet names “Trouble”