Monday, July 6, 2009

Goodbye, Fuzzybutt...


Yes, I know I have been absent for quite awhile-- didn't really have anything to say and there haven't been many odd/cool holidays of late...

But I guess I have something to say today.
My parents left on a three day motorcyle ride this morning so I get to feed the dogs (a LOT of dogs). No biggie, it's only once or twice a year-- but today wasn't the best day to start... I also had to bury one.
I named her Fuzzybutt (my parents insisted on calling her Fuzzy but I knew her true name). She was an old (no clue how old as she was full grown when we got her and that was about 10 years ago) Benji looking mutt that someone had dropped off and she was not at all friendly-- she wouldn't let anyone near her. One day I was out doing something and I saw her... she was covered with ticks and something had to be done. I managed to catch her (after quite a chase) and held her, talking gently and pulling each nasty little bug off her. After that, she became one of the sweetest dogs I have ever known. Not particularly bright but able to sense your moods and act accordingly. That made her perfect for the story I am about to tell.
When I was 11 I was attending dance school and someone came up with the crappy idea for each of us girls to put on a play starring the rest of the class. So instead of doing one decent play we had to do seven different ones with no money, no time, no nothing... we didn't even get to pick our own production-- I got saddled with 'Annie'. Adult "casting" consisted of whatever parent or family member or friend they could convince to stand in, so I ended up (briefly) with a short, fat Daddy Warbucks who had a full head of hair... I say briefly because that didn't sit right with me so I "fired" the director, ending up pretty much directing, casting, producing/financing, writing (I didn't stick with the regular storyline too closely), set designing and choreographing the dadburn thing myself (if you ever think of doing that, don't). Everything fell (reasonably) into place but one thing-- they wouldn't let me have a Sandy. Apparently they don't like untrained dogs possibly roaming around a stage and doing whatever. I was expected to carry around a stuffed dog, which again, didn't sit right with me. I decided the only solution was to stage a mostly outdoor production (unfortunately after spending money and time on sets and such) and videotape it for the class (no, I don't have a copy, Calvin).
And then I needed a Sandy so I picked Fuzzybutt. She wasn't trained to do anything and she tended to be hyperactive but she also seemed to always know what was going on around her. I reworked the play so that I pretty much only needed the dog for three scenes: the beginning where "Annie" was wandering the streets, when she first enters Daddy Warbuck's home, and during the chase scene at the end (I don't recall who exactly was chasing "Annie" or why).
The opening more or less consisted of "Annie" walking up to people and offering her services as a housecleaner or cook or whatever, each person paying her little or no mind until one well to do looking lady sees her and agrees to take her in... and then as if on cue, "Sandy" ran up. The lady looked disgustedly at "him" and said the dog was not welcome and "Annie" politely told her, "Well, if it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'll have to keep looking," and walked away. Cut to "Annie" climbing inside a cardboard box crying and in comes "Sandy" just nuzzling her sweetly. "Annie" stopped crying and said, "I know you're hungry, boy, I'm hungry too... we'll have better luck tomorrow," (I know you see where this is going) and then she slowly rises and breaks into song (oh, the shame-- that is why I don't have a copy of it anymore... don't need the reminder of seeing me in some stupid curly wig belting out THAT song) and dances around the "alley".
Ok, I have totally lost where I was going with this and I have no intention of going through the entire play. I quit that class not long after (mainly because I didn't want to have to do anything like that again). My point is/was, Fuzzybutt did what she was supposed to do right when she was supposed to without being trained to do so. She just knew... and that is how I will always remember her-- comforting "Annie"... comforting me.

4 comments:

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

Of all the stories you have told me that one is my favorite. Fuzzybutt was a great dog. I am sorry for your loss.

Booksteve said...

My most heartfelt condolences. Some people get televised worldwide funerals and memorials but Fuzzybutt's story is the one that brings me to tears. Thanks for sharing it with the world.

JeffScape said...

Dogs rule. I love that comic frame you posted.

Kold_Kadavr_flatliner, sub/dude said...

Alas! God can never be heard over the whorizontal now… yet, because one-outta-one shall croak sometime, somewhere, God has set-up this magnificent feature on the Way either Upstairs or downtown: the Warning. Everyone living on this planet will feel the Warning, lasting about 20ish minutes, showing U.S. a gorgeous picture of Heaven, Purgatory (depending whether our sins demand a greater punishment before being allowed into the Great Beyond), and Hell. Remember, God doesn’t condemn; we condemn ourselves by our sinful lifestyles. The Warning’s just a wake-up call. Don’t believe me? Groovy. You will soon. God bless you with discernment.