Clancy & Me

Let’s get this out of the way right off the bat…I’m a crazy dog owner.  I don’t know how I got to that place; I guess it just happened as time went on.  I talk about my dog way too much (for example: this blog post).  I once decorated her room with Christmas lights.  I have multiple nicknames that she responds to.  I dress her up in a costume for Halloween.  Yes, I’m obsessed.  She runs my life and I’m not ashamed to admit it.  She has also taught me a few things along the way.  We’ll get to that in a moment.  But first… 

Growing up, I was allergic to dogs – I couldn’t be anywhere near them.  In 1997, my parents decided that it was time to introduce a pet into the family.  They chose a breed that was hypoallergenic, so that little Ryan could listen to his K-Ci & JoJo album without itchy eyes and a runny nose.  It was a Bichon Frise that they bought at Chapel Hill Mall in Akron.  Normally, buying a pet at a place that sits adjacent from the airbrushed t-shirt stand is ill advised.  That certainly was the case here.  When we brought him home all he did was sleep – so much that we ended up naming him Cuddles.  Yes, that’s the worst name for a dog ever.  It’s not too bad a name for a Care Bear, but a terrible choice for the dog of a seventh grader who was trying desperately to be cool. 

Cuddles, the pet store mall dog wasn’t just sleeping; he was clinging on to life.  I’m not sure if my parents ever got their money back from the store, but after multiple vet trips, Cuddles eventually got healthy.  Now that he was well, we needed to change his name.  The Cleveland Indians were in the middle of their eventual World Series run that year, with Sandy Alomar having a career season.  1997 was a good year for Sandy: 30 game hitting streak, All-Star Game MVP, game tying home run in the playoffs against future hall-of-famer Mariano Rivera, and namesake of my first pet.  We buried the name Cuddles for good and that’s how Salomar came to be.  For the most part, he was a good dog, albeit very annoying.  Small, white, yippy, with a mean streak at times, you couldn’t bring small children or other dogs around Salomar.  Still, Salomar was my first pet – and he had an awesome name, so I’ll always remember that dog.

But this post isn’t about Salomar.  This post is about the obsession in my life, our dog Clancy.  Clancy is a yellow lab, dare I say the cutest (and smelliest) yellow lab ever to grace this fine Earth.  She came into my life way back in 2004, when Eileen’s mother surprised her with a new puppy.  Eileen was home for the summer after her freshman year of nursing school at Kent State.  See, Eileen was deathly afraid of being home alone, so her mother thought that a puppy was much cheaper than building a full blown panic room with home alarm system.  A woman at her mother’s work was trying to give away this six-month old puppy for free to a good home.  Clancy came from a reputable show-dog breeder.  Her overbite and black, crooked front tooth made her useless in the show dog world, but a perfect candidate for home protection in Eileen’s world.  Little did Eileen’s mother know that this free show dog misfit would end up costing thousands in the long run.

Clancy hating life in her Halloween costume

Just a quick rundown of everything Clancy destroyed in the first few years of her life: Eileen’s designer glasses, dental retainer, dental mouth guard, Lladro porcelain figurine, carpeting in four separate bedrooms, ate two bars of soap in one sitting, a bedroom door and door frame, and three metal dog cages.  I’m sure there’s more, but I’m drawing a blank at the moment.  As for the three dog cages, let’s just say that Clancy has had some issues with containment.  Our furry Houdini would push against the metal cage with all of her weight, until she bent the bars near the cage door.  Then, she would somehow open the cage door from the inside and make her escape.  Yes, she did this with three separate cages.  You think we would have learned after the second.  It got so bad, that for the fourth cage, Eileen’s father had to reinforce the cage door with rebar and nail the back of the cage to the kitchen floor. Young Clancy makes Marley look like a saint.

Clancy is a much different dog now.  Calm and reserve, she spends most of her days lying around the house, searching out her next nap.  After all, she is 9 years old and in the golden years of her life.  It’s the simple things in life that make her happy.  A dirty sock, unattended trash can, dropped ingredient while making dinner.  The unbridled joy that Clancy shows when I come home from work everyday is rivaled by almost nothing in life.  I wish that I had her enthusiasm for life and love that she gives in that moment.  Letting the dog out of her room when I come home from work is just another thoughtless task for me, but for the dog, seeing me is the highlight of her day.  Like I said, Clancy loves the simple things…like car rides.  She doesn’t care if we’re in a swank Range Rover or a 1997 Honda Civic, all she cares about is being by my side on the road.  We can learn so much from our pets.  Clancy has helped to teach me that in order to be truly happy in life, don’t look at your possessions, but look to those you love most. She is fiercely loyal and demands our attention at every waking moment when we are home.  Even as I sit here writing this, she seems a little put off that I’m not paying attention to her.  All she wants is love.  If she only knew that 1,200 words were being typed about her right now...

Clancy and I at softball.  She was ejected from the
 game for kicking dirt on the umpire.....and for pooping in left field

As the years pass by, I find myself growing closer and closer to Clancy.  Once Eileen and I were married and moved in together, she became our first mutual responsibility and love.  Now, five years later, she still remains that.  I have never thought of the dog as “our child” (I’m a crazy dog owner, but not that crazy), but I can see how those without children can think that way.  Clancy has taught us how to love and care; it is comforting to have her around.  Clancy is more than a dog to us.  I’ve been with Eileen for 12 years and the dog has been around for 9 of them.  She has been a huge part of our relationship; it will someday be weird when she is not around.  But here’s to hoping that day is far in the future.  She surely will never make it to see a Cleveland Browns Super Bowl (she’s a huge football fan), but I hope that she will be around when Eileen and I have a child someday.  After all, she was the one that gave us the building blocks on how to become great parents.