This one’s for Archie
7-25-21
After I landed my first industry job I decided I would either get a dog or the latest Miata. The next gen Miata took too long to be officially announced so I went the dog route instead. I did some research into the style and temperament that I was looking for and landed on retired racing greyhounds. That is how in early 2014 Archie came into my life. On Friday July 9th I had to help him cross the rainbow bridge.
I got him when he was 3 and a half, which is somewhat old for retiring greyhounds. They generally are retired closer to 2 years, or they win enough to stay with the racing teams to use for breeding. He won 5 of his 35 races, and according to his papers he would regularly do well in the beginning of the race only to lose interest halfway through. Typical Archie. I also was his second “owner” (I dislike that word but can think of few alternatives), with his first family returning him to the greyhound organization, claiming he was too lazy, had no interest in playing, and just wanted to lay in bed all day. Once again, typical Archie, just what I was looking for.
It took the two of us a few months before we settled in with each other. After that he learned to mostly trust me and that I was trying to make his life easier, and I learned how to read his stoic emotionless demeanor. We settled down in our daily groove and I tried to take him out on weekends for a shot scenic hike, weather and work willing. To be fair, in at least half of the walks we went on, no matter the distance, Archie would want to turn back and go home ASAP. On longer walks, he somehow manages to poop a minimum of 3 times nearly every time, even if I “empty” him at home in the backyard first. I still believe it was his way of punishing me for not returning home when he wanted, and I have no idea how he managed to always have a backup poop.
Archie’s quickly earned his motto of “Archie don’t care”. As long as you weren’t attempting to hurt him or make him super uncomfortable he would quickly give up and give in to his new life. He was also fairly obedient, though did often require some motivation if he was laying down and I wanted him up. But for example I only had to tell him once or twice that he was not allowed on the bed, or in my roommate’s room, and he would gladly follow those directions. Likewise he would sometimes go in to sniff my food, but he never went in for a bite.
Early in the start of Covid times he injured one of his rear paws while running in the back yard. Thanks to Covid no Vets were taking new paw-patients so I had to go to my regular, fairly small vet. After some tests the most the vet could say was this was a soft tissue damage and didn’t seem too worried. To me it looked like something in the tendon/ligament/muscle of one of his toes failed and rendered that toe useless. He was put on bedrest for a few weeks but never fully recovered. In typical Archie form, Archie didn’t care. To him it was more time in bed and less time on walks. I could tell he could no longer handle our longer walks so I did what I could to get him running in that backyard a bit, since nothing I or the injury did stopped him from doing so.
Every year at the end of June early July Archie would stop eating for a few days thanks to the fireworks and heat. This year was no exception, except after the fireworks stopped his appetite did not come back. When I saw he was losing some weight I tried my best to bribe him with his favorite foods, peanut butter and freeze dried chicken liver, as well as putting food in his Kong, the only toy he ever played with (but only if full!). He would sometimes eat, giving me hope, but it was still not enough. By the time I realized just how much weight he had lost I tried to take him to the emergency vets, but thanks to covid and other reasons even they were full. By the time I managed to get him in somewhere there was little we could do but help ease his suffering. Every fiber in my being wanted to do anything to help him, but in his state and age the vets were worried he might not even make it through the night so I had to make the call. He would have been 11 tomorrow.
Our bond is one that is hard to put in words. We were not the most outwardly affectionate pair, but that didn’t stop me from loving him more than I’ve loved anything else in my life (maybe even my parents?), and I hope he loved me too, in his weird way. I hope I was able to give him his retirement he was hoping for.
To honor Archie and always remember him I took it upon myself to build his urn. Given his color I chose to use Wenge, a naturally dark wood with lighter figure, along with maple accents. I had never worked with Wenge before, nor had I build a mitered box or done spline inserts. What I did know is I wanted his collars to have enough room to fit around the urn, as well as a slightly stylized portrait of Archie made of wood. My mother took Archie’s purple winter sweater so she could resize it to fit around the urn.
