Mikey

2009 - 2025

Mikey
I had to put my 17-year-old dog down this week. He did not suffer. I am.
My home is empty, devoid of another heartbeat. There are no insistent whines or barks when it is mealtime. There are no beautiful eyes staring up at me. No 4 daily walks. There is no comfort at night when I am tucked up in bed. There is no rhythm. There is no grounding.
For almost 17 years, Mikey was my constant companion – Velcro dog. He was bred to be exactly that, a companion dog. And he did his job “par excellance”. He was the one I talked to, confided in, petted and loved. The only physical act of affection I received – his loving kisses. Regardless of where I was in the house or apartment, he was always beside me. If only to get what I was eating at the time.
Mikey was ruled by his tummy – remarkably, I did not use this to my benefit. Mikey was relatively untrained – formally. He barked at all dogs, regardless of their size or stature. He was known as Mike Tyson by the owner of two pit bulls on the street. He was always barking at trucks and trailers – who knows what he would have done if he got hold of one. Skateboards were his nemesis. I suspect as a result of my son having traumatized him as a puppy on one. And of course, he was never well toilet trained.
Because of all this, he was extremely lovable and sweet. There were only two people, both of whom were weird roommates of mine, that he didn’t like. Possibly because he was defending me. A laughable thought if you considered his size. Mikey was a large dog in a small body. He didn’t like to be held and cuddled, but would allow chest scratches and ear scratches with relish. His kisses were sweet, always when I was sitting down, including on the toilet. Mornings were his favourite times for love.
In his later years my house was full of pee pads, not because he was less trained but because of the small size of the apartment, I noticed the accidents more. We were both moving through old age together – pee pads, slower gait, less balance and less hearing.
The end was inevitable and quite frankly I am glad he went before me – we were bonded and I don’t think he could be without me – depending on the treats offered.
I will miss him, my lovely Pomeranian with the shiny eyes and white eyelashes. As my son said when he first put his puppy picture on my fridge, “Look mummy, pure love”.