The Life and Times of Roxy The Wunderdog: The Unnamed Monster
She came into my life in 2004 and left all too quickly in 2010. Roxy somehow managed to live more in 5 1/2 years than most of us do in a lifetime. She was the very definition of a Wunderdog. This is her story, as told through my eyes.
The Unnamed Monster
It was Mid-December and I was on a plane to Seattle, Washington to meet up with my co-worker James. After James picked me up, we were to drive east to Spokane for the night and on to Kalispell, Montana the next morning. My company actually was only prepared to send me to Montana to take care of our business, but realized at the last minute that I was only 22 years old at the time and renting a car would be an impossibility. Hence why James was tasked with chauffeurring me from the metropolis of Seattle, to the buttfucking middle of nowhere of Kalispell. I had never been to Montana though, and was somewhat looking forward to knocking both Montana and Idaho off my lists that I have been to, so despite the harsh weather (screw off, I am from California, rain and sub 30 temperatures are harsh), I agreed to go.
My girlfriend at the time, was less than enthused by my travel plans however. Her birthday had just passed and having blown the doors off of Vegas for her 21st birthday the year prior, I did the only thing I could think of to top it for an otherwise meaningless 22nd birthday. I decided to get us a puppy. The problem was, I hadn’t actually secured said puppy for her birthday. I knew she wanted a rottweiler, but all leads turned out to be bunk, or the asking price was too high. And plus, I was lazy and figured she should just pick the puppy herself if I waited long enough. The frustration of the puppy search, combined with getting ready for our first Christmas in our new place, was simmering to a boil.
“How come you are leaving again?”
“Because work needs me to go to Montana and fix something.”
“What needs to be fixed?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t pay attention to what Dave told me.”
“How come James can’t do it?”
“Because, ugh…well shit why can’t James do it? Good question. And why are they always flying me in to these cold ass places in the winter? I hate this company.”
So while I flew to Seattle, drove to Spokane and went 80 miles the wrong way into Montana, and back, the girlfriend was trying to find her birthday present. Having not heard anything from her while trying to save my asshole from being cornholed in northern Idaho, I assumed that she had struck out finding our neweset four-legged member (we had two cats already. One big fat cat that we called Big Fat Sayde, and this asshole bitch of a cat named Mischief).
I called Michelle to see how close she was to the airport.
“Hey, I’ve got to get my bag, how close are you?”
“I’m circling now…I brought a friend with me.”
“Ugh, fuck I don’t want to talk to Deena right now. Tell her to shut up when I get in the car, ok?”
“…ok…”
I go outside and see Michelle pulling up in my truck, but don’t see her stupid friend sitting in the passenger seat. Naturally, I am confused. I open the door and get ready to throw my shit in, when I look down and see a black and brown pile of fluff looking back at me. She had just woken up from a nap, blinked her eyes to try and clear the cobwebs, squinted them as if to figure out who the hell I was, yawned, and plopped her head back down on the car seat to resume her nap.
“Meet your daughter, daddy,” Michelle said while flashing her gorgeous smile.
I put my crap in the backseat of my truck, picked up this 12 week old, unnamed rotty pup, and held her up in front of my face. I leaned in to kissmy new dog on the nose, only to have been beaten to the punch. As she would often do throughout our time together over the years, Roxy was
- Roxy photobombing me with a kiss
ahead of the curve and beat me to the punch. She licked my face twice, let out a little puppy squeek as she yawned and simultanesouly ripped my heart out of my chest, never to give it back.
And as I was overcome with a sense of warmth I hadn’t had in a long time, I realize that A: I was in love with this dog, and B: She was pissing directly onto my shirt and pants. Which obviously explained the warmth I was feeling seconds prior. This little nameless beast then proceeded to fart little puppy farts all the way back to our house in Discovery Bay, causing us to dry heave as the lingering stench of dried dog piss clashed with the invisible gas bombs she was dropping on her newfound owners. By the time we got home, the entire car smelled like death and Michelle was running inside as if she was being chased by Freddy Kruger (if only…).
“Michelle, come get your puppy!”
“Uh-uh, that is YOUR dog now!”
I looked down on the now, wide awake puppy, who was staring back at me, and I smiled.
“Yes, you are.”
