Ginger, about 2 years ago.
Just over 14 years ago, my daughter, who was 11, wanted a dog. She even created a PowerPoint presentation for why she should get one! Both she and my wife did one of those online questionnaires to determine what kind of dog we should get. Both came up with ‘cairn terrier’, like Toto of Wizard of Oz. I didn’t do the survey, but I wasn’t too invested in it…I had never had a dog before. Cats yes, but no dog.
First we had to get a fence for the yard…just one side really, since two neighbors already had fences bordering our property. That was completed 14 years ago this week!
Then, the next weekend, we went looking for a puppy. We started by going to the Humane Society, but every puppy was a pit bull. Yes, they can be sweet, but that was a hard no. We called another humane society before making the long trek there, and they only had pit bull puppies. We went to some pet stores, and nothing. With tears on the way, I pulled a small phone book from my car door (no smartphones then) and decided to call a pet store farther away. Lo and behold, they had a litter of cairn terriers available! The universe spoke! We went right over, and there they were! But we could not touch them until we went home and took showers and changed clothes to prevent them getting any diseases from us. Argh!
An hour later, we were back, and one in particular, a female, seemed to like my daughter, so we picked that one. It was love at first site for all of us. Now we had to name her. We were watching Gilligan’s Island around that time, so I wanted “MaryAnne”. My wife said: “you are not going to give her the same name as my mother”, so we switched to Ginger. Ginger Grant to be exact.
Ginger running in the back yard shortly after we got her. Demon Dog!
From the beginning, Ginger was a sweet dog, never biting people…railing posts was a different story, LOL. Oh, and there is a vacuum cleaner attachment that was chewed to pieces. She loved kids, and I would have never hesitated to leave her alone around a child. My wife and daughter took her to a dog park once when she was still a puppy, and Ginger was chased and attacked by a Rottweiler owned by an inattentive lady talking on the phone. Ginger was afraid of other dogs for years afterward.
Oh yeah, Ginger fulfilled her role as Toto for Halloween one year.
Ginger enjoying her role as Toto
Ginger never met a stranger. Everyone who met her fell in love with her. They knew Ginger loved them too, judging by her wagging tail.
A few months after we got Ginger, my daughter politely gave me all dog walking duties. I didn’t mind because I really enjoyed it. I work(ed) from home (I retired in March this year), and Ginger would sit in my chair behind me. I’d have to scoot forward in the chair a bit, but I loved her behind me. When that chair broke, my new chair apparently wasn’t comfortable enough and she gave that up.
About 10 years ago, ‘Squeaky’, a stray cat found our home and took up residence. At first we thought ‘he’ was a ‘she’, but we found out he was fixed. He squeaked instead of meowed, hence his name. And he *adored* Ginger, and the feeling was mutual. Whenever I would walk Ginger around our block, Squeaky would always walk with us, right next to Ginger, in lock step. Neighbors witnessing this were highly amused. They were really best friends. Squeaky later met with an unfortunate accident, but we would be getting another cat a bit later.
Squeaky and Ginger
About the time my daughter went to college, I started taking Ginger to any one of three or four parks in the area Saturday mornings after I got groceries. Ginger loved going. Within a few weeks of doing this, she recognized my grocery trips quickly and was eager to go to the park as soon as I got home and put the groceries away. The only weekends where this was skipped was when it was raining. She hated rain, and thunder. And fireworks. She HATED fireworks. Scared to death.
Ginger loved to play too! I taught her to catch a frisbee! One of those smaller Kong frisbees, and I only tossed it around 15 feet or so, and I had to toss it to where she was running to, but she could catch it! I think our record was around 20 straight tosses and catches. She was amazing! Often at night before bed, I would toss one of her stuffed toys down the hall from our bedroom, and she would run after it and bring it back. Time after time.
Ginger playing Frisbee
A few years ago, we got a kitten. A small black kitten who grew into a psycho kitty! Well, she grew to love the dog, and would try to play with Ginger. Ginger seemed above it all and tolerated it, even when Cat would try to ride the dog like a horse. They would often compete for the sunlight coming in the back door. And if it was pretty out, Ginger would be sure to go outside and roll in the grass, scratching that itchy back.
We would give Ginger a grooming about every 3 or 4 months. She was a totally different girl before and after her trim. Sometimes the haircut got a little toooo short!
Ginger pre-cut
Ginger was *my* dog, but she did special things with just my wife. After my wife retired a few years ago, she would sit in her chair reading, and Ginger would start to growl, then bark…loudly! She would get rewarded with a treat. Just once a day, though! And Ginger would know that too, but sometimes might get another… from me.
Ginger post-cut
Another Ginger and Frisbee pic
Ginger and Cat (yeah, that is kinda her name) competing for the sunlight.
It was just before Christmas, 2021 that Ginger had a throwing up episode. Turned out that her gall bladder nearly burst. Added to that was that her liver enzymes were off the charts. Apparently the cheese I often shared with her at night caused her problems. Maybe not…this condition is common with this breed. In any event, she went on a low fat diet and started taking two medications. She recovered well, but would continue on those meds. I actually had three weekly pill containers. Her early morning pills were Denamarin (for her liver) and Cosequin to help with joint stiffness (it seemed to help her). The late morning pill was Ursodial, and before bed was Ursodial
Ginger enjoying the sunshine rolling on her back
again. I don’t think I ever missed more than a handful of doses.
About 6 months ago, she started having bouts of diarrhea, but metronidazole helped to clear that up. This was added to her late morning regimen. Everything was going fine with her, but Ginger began sleeping far more often, she was now almost 14. An old lady! And her diarrhea gradually became daily with no consistent way to prevent it.
Then about 3 months ago, she stopped eating her dry food almost completely, as well as her low fat canned food. So, I started cooking her chicken, her fave. I would put the chicken in with her dry food. Sometimes she would eat both, sometimes she deftly picked out the chicken. But the canned food was a complete no way. Finally, about a week ago, she stopped eating chicken from a plate on the floor, but ate it if I fed her from my hands. And her sleeping increased, if that was even possible.
On Wednesday, we noticed that her breathing was more labored while she was sleeping, and my wife thought she was shaking like she was having seizures. We knew the time had come.
Thursday morning, I took Ginger to the park. We didn’t walk our normal route. She looked at me after a short walk and asked to go home. She wasn’t feeling well she said. It wasn’t long after that when we took that trip to the vet for her final journey. The vet made it as painless as possible for all parties. But the emotional pain was high. I still can’t believe I’ve lost my first dog. How I loved her so. People have said that she had a good life. But she made my life good. God I miss her.
We will get another puppy, when the time is right and the universe gives us direction. But Ginger was my first dog, and she was something special. I am really writing this so that in years to come, and someone asks me about Ginger, I can send them this link, so they, too, can know what a special special dog she really was.
Ginger thinking she might get a treat and cocking her head. She could REALLY cock her head!
