Oscar was found in a cardboard box along with the rest of his litter in a dumpster behind the Braum’s at NClassen and 17th St in Oklahoma City.
Although the manager, who found the puppies, and his wife, gave away all the other puppies, they kept Oscar and one of his sisters until, as they claimed, Oscar got a little too rambunctious and playful with the new baby in the house and needed to go to another home.
That’s how I got him.
In reality, I believe, they couldn’t handle that he was epileptic (studies show 10% of dogs are).
That was in the year 2000, and they claimed Oscar was 6 months old when he was brought to my apartment on December 1 of that year.
For the next 14 years Oscar was a faithful companion through all the adventures in my life, and was very patient when I would come home angry and upset with the events in the school district.
At least three times he traveled in the car round trip from OKC to Boston for Christmas vacation, and peed on as many trees as he could get to on those trips.
He was the good dog who loved a ride in the car.
He just went along with whatever happened, and finally, in his old age he got to retire to Cape Cod where he discovered all manner of new smelly things he could attempt to eat on the beach at low tide.
Sunday morning he did not get up when it was time to go out, and spent the day sleeping. When I got home from a visit with family, I saw that he had not moved all day and that his breathing was getting labored.
Figuring this could be the end (somehow you just know), I slept next to him on the floor while he was on his dirty laundry bed so he would not die alone, and this morning, 11/24/14 at about 2:48 a.m. he took one or two big breaths and that was it.
He never got to that point where he could not live the life he was accustomed to, so his end was natural and not the result of a traumatic decision on my part. As a matter of fact, he was as active on Saturday as he usually was, so his end was rather sudden and peaceful.
So it was 14 years, the longest relationship I have had. And at no time did he cheat on me, steal a television or a car, beg for money, use drugs, run away from a debt, or get me in trouble with a landlord because of a wild party when I was not home.
Instead, he was faithful, enjoyed going on road trips without complaining about the distance and was happy with what we discovered along the way (somewhere I have a picture of him at Foam Hendge in VA and a few at Gettysburg before we got lost in the mountains, and he didn’t whine while we tried to find our way back to the highway), let me fume when I was upset without telling me annoyingly to calm down (he would just go into a closet where he had a bed and wait out the storm), and usually greeted me at the door when I got home. He was patient with my schedule that included lots of meetings and long days, although my going to a meeting meant he got a piece of cheese as I left.
And when I was drawing or on the computer he would curl up next to me or at my feet.
He will be missed, and he will never be replaced.