Ode to our favorite Freakshow (as we affectionately called him)

Kasey Von Drake
10/30/03 - 10/25/09
Dear Kasey,
When I first held you as a few weeks old pup, you wrapped your paws around my arm and looked me square in the eye. I knew at that moment, you were the right dog for my boy.

Christmas morning, after trying to keep you quiet for hours in a basket in our room, we finally gave up, woke all the boys and you were presented to Tuffy. I'll never forget the look on his face as the realization set in that YOU belonged to him. Its etched in my mind forever.

We watched you over the next year grow to an absurdly large golden retriever. Your sheer mass scared people who didn't know you. You were often referred to as a horse. Yes, you were THAT big. You didn't know it though. You always saw yourself as a lap dog. Which is great except for visitors who aren't expecting it.

You could put you head right on the kitchen table, and don't even start me about when you would stand on your back paws and check out anything on the cupboards. We learned quickly to keep food safely stored out of reach.

Whenever it snowed, you were in pure heaven. You would run and quickly just lay and roll around in it. Thank goodness your fur was water resistant, and you dried off quickly. You loved the snow. You loved playing in the snow with Kodi, Jordan or anyone of the two-legged variety.

The mere mentioning of W.A.L.K (yes we would have to spell it) would send you into a tizzy of excitement. You were born to run. Run free, smelling everything, greeting everyone. You only tolerated the leash.

You perfected the art of escape. More fence boards were broken than I can count. You just wanted out to play. Twice we bailed you out of doggy jail. Twice you went to elementary school, and twice you went as far as the Junior high. You just wanted to play. The kids were there, you wanted in on the fun.

We have kind neighbors who, when you escaped, would grab you, take you to their homes(inside even), call us or if they could, just open the front door and put you back home. Speaking of doors, you learned how to open the doors with your mouth, we had to make sure the deadbolt was latched.

You needed to see outside at all times. The table in the living room? It used to be a nice wood table, but it soon became your means to the large window and the view outside. Hours you spent parked on that table just watching the world go by. You were a fixture for the neighbors as they drove by. If you could, you would have waved. You were regularly perched there when we would pull into the driveway which then prompted me to sing....."How much is that doggy in the window....."

You loved everyone. You had no biases of any kind. You saw everyone as the same. Someone to play with, pet you, love you, and be your friend. We could learn alot from your example of open acceptance.

That might have been why you were often submissive, even to the point of timid and scared. Thunder? Beeping noises? Any usual sound? You made your way to the bathtub. We would laugh at how easily you were scared, but as you grew older it only became worse. Days with fireworks were pure hell for you. We spent a lot of time soothing you.

We watched as Kodi early in your life, carefully taught you the art of playing growly. It amused us to no end. The two of you were quite a pair rolling on the ground, growling and mouthing at each other. You brought youth to her old age and gave her so much happiness in her last days.

When we lost Kodi, you were desolate. Your pal was gone. You were lonely. When Jordan joined the family, you got your spark back. You then carefully passed on the art of playing growly. You accepted her, loved her and taught her the joy of stealing bread.

I will never forget when I would come home from work, find an empty bread sack, hotdog bun bag or even the remnants of a hamburger bun bag. All I had to do was look at you and ask if you did it. You immediately hung your head, and walked to the back door to be put out. You just couldn't help yourself when it came to bread.

Remember that time you ate a whole pan of brownies? We had just baked a batch and they were cooling on the stove. The home teachers came over with a batch so we put that up out of reach on the counter, not thinking about the ones on the stove. By the time the HT's left, you had completely eaten the entire pan that was cooling on the stove. That earned you the nickname of iron stomach. You ate all kinds of weird crap and rarely got sick from it.

Your fur was so soft. While we kept you shaved most of the time to reduce the shedding, you stil were soft. Your ears, your neck and you chin and face were favorite spots to caress, pet and rub. It wasn't all for you, you know. Petting you was soothing to us as well. Many a time, I would see someone (Tuffy) just mindlessly caressing your ears just to feel good.

You were the ultimate pack animal. You loved, nay, CRAVED being with the family. You liked everyone home and in their places. You were truly, a part of the family. You loved going places, being with us and being a part of our activities. You sat through many a ball game, you tolerated a lot of "rides" from Sissy, you even stepped up and mothered those darling puppies a year ago.

This summer was the best cabin trip ever. You just had those tumors diagnosed, we weren't sure what lied ahead and was hoping that if this was your last time there, it would be your best. It was. Words cannot even describe your happiness there.

This last week has been hard. We noticed you weren't yourself. Then we saw you stopped eating. A trip to the vet and several tests later, didn't give us a lot of options. It was hard to see you this way. Barely moving. Not eating, not drinking. Seeking solitary time. We watched our fun-loving, eager to play friend become a shell. We knew your suffering needed to end, and we did what we thought was best.

It's nice to think of you now. I believe you were met by Kodi and are now playing growly with her again. You are chasing birds, chickens and ducks, and FINALLY running as free as you wish. There are no big windows, no fences, no leashes to be in your way. There are streams to splash in, lakes to swim, and an endless supply of trees to sniff. You are happy.

You were a beloved member of our family. You are missed already. There is a void that can't be filled, but we'll get through it. Thus is the circle of life. Some say, "I'll never have a dog, for this very reason. They die and it's too hard."

Yes it's hard, but if we chose to skip out on the adventure of Kasey, we would have missed 6 years of fun, aggravation, laughter, frustration, pure joy and lessons learned that come with a pet who provides unconditional love.

My boy Tuffy? He's a better person because of the lessons learned from his dog. And for that, dear Freakshow Kasey, I thank you.

R.I.P,

Alpha Female.

PS. (Dont forget that Marley and Me could have been written about you. That makes you a star in my book and you can click here for more funny Kasey stories)

Birthday Fun - Part II

Freakshow's stitches removed. Makes my happy, no more yelling at him to stop licking them! Nice BD gift!

Going under the knife.....er.....laser

My boy's boy is sick. Kasey, Tuffy's beloved Freakshow of a Golden Retriever dog, has an owie.
We found this on him last week.It showed up just out of the blue. One day, just there.

Our great vet at
Jordan River Animal Hospital did a quick needle aspiration and informed us it was a Mast Cell Tumor. And that there was another small one starting near the big one.

We were advised to watch it for a few days, just in case it was merely an insect bite, but if it didn't rapidly improve, to get it removed ASAP.(one last good chewing session before the big day)

He went yesterday for his blood work, and this morning had surgery.
He breezed through that. Prolly the longest time the dog has ever been mellow and chillaxed. I almost wish I could have stayed through it all just to enjoy it. : )

The bad news: They found another one starting to grow when they were in removing them. That could indicate that it is indeed cancer and is spreading.

The good news: Doc was able to remove them easily, indicative that they haven't gone deep.

Jury is still officially out on a confirmed diagnosis of Mast Cell cancer. But the vet has used the term the entire time, so we're not expecting a miracle. That being said, we'll have the REAL word when the biopsy gets back from the pathologist. Should be by the end of this week.

In the meantime, our baby has an awesome battle wound, is still groggy, pretty quiet and overall a much more sedated Freakshow than we are used to. The dude gets pain meds for the next 5 days. So maybe this laid back version will be around for a little while at least.



And the even better news? He got his teeth cleaned while under so his "all the better to eat you with my dears" are sparkly white!

Poor guy - I don't think he feels like that was a cool deal at all.......

Dead dogs and memories

I decided I needed to get some memories down while I can still remember. You never know and every time I think of this first story, I still giggle....kinda


This must have been about 8 or 9 years ago, the boys were younger and all in school. I worked (still do) full time, so yeah, they were latch-key kids. What of it?
Anyhoo, I get a frantic call from home after school and it's C telling me that there is a dead dog in the backyard! Now, for informational purposes, you need to know that we had two dogs of our own at the time. A beautiful reddish golden retriever named Kodi, who seriously was the best dog ever. If I had the money to clone her I would have. And then we had the Rat. I called her the Rat, because, well, I hated her. She was a little mutt that we got for the kids when they were really little. I did no research, no studying, purely on impulse got her 'cause she was such a cute puppy. She grew up MEAN. Not just a little crabby but MEAN! Once she went after a neighbor boy and I told the kids I would have to take her to the shelter, that she was a liability and could harm others. C begged and begged. Promised he would work with her, train her and that she wouldn't be a problem. I relented. He held up his end of the bargain, and she was tolerable until she was a lot older and then refused to stay housebroken. I regret every day that we ever got her, 'cause we were stuck with her a REALLY long time. I used to say, when she died, it would be a tough 10 minutes. But I digress......

So, the frantic phone call
C: "Mom! There's a dead dog in the backyard!"
Me: "A wha?"
C repeats himself
Me; "Don't touch it! What does it look like? What is Kodi and Whitney (rat) doing?"
C: "I brought them inside."
Me: "Okay, don't touch it. Leave it alone and Dad will be home to take care of it in a little bit."

I am thinking, how in the freak did a dog get in our back yard? We have a high fence, our dogs are indoors for the most part, they couldn't have been outside for very long, so what happened?

Splenda gets home - addresses the issue and I get updated when I get home.

Me: "So... the dead dog?"
Splenda: "Yeah, weird. Looked like Whitney at first glance, but as I got closer, it was clearly not her, but similar."
Me: "What did you do with it?"
Splenda: "Threw it in the big garbage can, what did you want me to do with it?"
Me: "I don't know. Had it been dead a long time, was it bloody? What was it like?"
Splenda: "It was pretty stiff, so had been there a while and no real blood that I could see."

Big on details, these dudes are. Okay, so we think it through out loud. Doesn't look like any one's that we know. Certainly not a dog we've seen in the neighborhood. Splenda discovers a small hole under a board in the fence. We come to the conclusion that stray dog comes into our back yard. Rat dog is very territorial and starts something with the stray. They get into it (there were some telltale signs on rat dog) and Kodi, being the protective girl she was, ended it.

What to do? No tags on the body, not familiar, have no idea who to call or try to notify. Leave dead dog in the big garbage can, next day is garbage day. Que sera sera.

Fast forward to two days later. I am driving down the street and turning the corner and what do I see on the lamppost? A lost dog sign with what? A picture of a dog that looks eerily similar to dead stray dog now in it's final resting place of the local landfill.

CaaarrrrraaaP! Do I call the number? Do I tell this poor family that um, my dogs killed your little dog? Wow, what to do. I've got a real moral dilemma here now don't I? I mull it over all the way to the office and decide. Nope. No phone call. Here's how I justified it.....if we had lost a dog, I would be consoling my kids with a lie of how the dog probably ended up with a really loving family that was so happy to have it. That they had prayed and wished for a dog of their own, that when ours landed on their porch, well, it was an answer to their prayers and that probably their kids were sick with some terrible disease and the dog was going to be all therapeutic for them ..... blah blah blah. Yep. That is the bull**** I would have fed my kids about it, if we had lost our dog.

I totally took the chicken way out and told myself it was better for them to believe that crap about their beloved dog than to have to tell them that um, yeah, my dogs KILLED HER!

Is the story over? Well with THAT dead dog. And yes, I do still giggle.....kinda.

Fast forward to about 5 years after that. A rare moment of affection with me and the Rat and Kodi.

My beloved Kodi is getting old and arthritic. She's still as sweet and smart and obedient as ever. Really. I know people say they have the best dog, but she really was the best dog. As she and the Rat dog both aged though, they got a little impatient with each other. They really had a love/hate relationship. They loved to hate each other. The Rat was just more vocal and aggressive about it. Kodi tolerated her.

The boys and Splenda are playing basketball in the back yard. Rat dog being the pissy little thing she was, just starts barking and getting all annoyed and basically hollering about disrupting her backyard time with such foolishness. Kodi, being in heat and a tich impatient (imagine that), has had it with her. Enough. Enough of her yippiness, her bullying and her yapping/snapping. She goes over to the Rat, and grasps her in the "death shake". Shake, shake, shake, while Splenda and the boys are frantically trying to get her off and letting go. When Kodi finally comes to her senses, the damage is done. The Rat's back is clearly broken and she is near death.
Whoa. What the? What has just happened? Tough ten minutes turns into a tough 24 hours. And Kodi the beloved is now dubbed Kodi the Killer dog. Affectionately of course.

Buried the Rat in the front yard flower bed wrapped in C's favorite beach towel. We later, poured a porch over that flower bed and so she is now entombed.

As for Kodi-best dog, albeit killer dog? She carried on for a few more years. She grew terribly lonely after the Rat was gone. I think she liked her around purely for canine companionship and I am convinced that as much as your dogs love you, they also love other dogs. They NEED a canine companion. No offense to the humans. She was lonely enough that we got Kasey a year or so later for her. Well, for my son. Okay for all of us. The logic behind him? If she was such a great dog and all the research says Golden Retriever's are such good dogs, well by dang, let's get another golden retriever. Bad idea. But that's another story. Let's just leave it at "he is lucky to be alive after today at the groomer's. I am tired of being humped in public."

While Kodi loved Kasey and he really brought youth to her life and I believe added some time, there is no escaping the inevitable. Dogs die. They die before we do. They don't live as long and as much as people say, "It's just a dog", they are more than that. They are a part of your family, your pack. For true dog lovers, they become an extension of you and your family. Kodi was my dear friend, running partner and consoler. She was loyal to a fault and I only wish I could have cloned her into a mini size. Like a 10 pound version of her.

Did I feel bad about dead stray dog? Yes. I probably should have called. Or not. I really don't know. Maybe the fantasy of the dog being well cared for was the best. I don't know.

Did I feel bad after Rat dog died? Yes. Okay, it was more than 10 minutes. But I'll be completely honest. I think I cried more watching my children mourn than what I felt. I really hated her that much. And that is saying something considering what a dog person I am. I learned to never make an animal impulse buy again! Study, research and wait for just.the.right.one.

And when Kodi passed? Well, let's say we still miss her EVERY SINGLE DAY! I have her ashes on my mantle (yes, I'm weird - what of it?) and her ball and picture are beside them. She was my rock while the kids grew up. She was the baby I had when I couldn't get pregnant anymore. She was OURS.

As for the living canines we have now? Freakshow is freaky as always, but for some reason, we all still love the big dope. And my baby Jordan is practically perfect in every way. I should have named her Mary freakin Poppins. Except for her high pitched yap, she is just about the best dog ever. If she didn't have such large paws to fill.


When they pass? I can't say how hard it will be. I'll cross that bridge when it comes.

Marley & Me - I mean - Kasey & Me

Many of you may have read the book by John Grogran called Marley & Me.


I read it about 3 or 4 years ago, soon after my son Tuffy got his dog Kasey as a Christmas surprise from Santa. The dude was totally writing about Kasey, or as we affectionately call him, FREAKSHOW! The dog is seriously.... I want to say worst dog ever! He is a golden retriever who, when we shave him looks just like a yellow lab, and he is certifiably nuts.

We have had to bail him out of doggy jail not once but twice.
He's broken our wood fence too many times to count.

I've had more than my share of phone calls from neighbors or even complete strangers telling me they found our dog, would we like to come get him?
He went to elementary school. Yes, walked right in the front door with the kiddies.
Went to Junior High. Twice. Yes, walked right in the side door to the choir room.
Has humped the downstairs pillows so many times, we had to throw them away. It just grossed everyone out. (and yes he is neutered and has been since he was big enough to have testes.)
Because of said problem above, was humiliated right out of doggy obedience school. Couldn't show our faces back there again.
Greets EVERYONE at the door with a special technique we like to call the "jump and hug".

Loves my Jordan so much that when she was a puppy, he mothered her to the point that we had to take her away at times. Now just loves to "make-out" with her until her head is one mass of slobbery, wet, lovin. A tich gross.

Knocks down the grandbaby on a regular basis. He doesn't even have to touch her, just walking by is enough to throw her off balance.

Once ate an entire pan of brownies fresh out of the oven.
Once ate an entire "quad" of scripture. That's a Bible, Book of Mormon, D & C, and Pearl of Great Price all in one. Must clarify, not completely consumed, but enough to give new meaning to the words, "feasting on the scriptures".
For that matter, has eaten all sorts of things that were not made for human nor canine consumption.
Has ruined our living rooms blinds and the bedroom blinds.
Has scratched the paint off the outside door.
Has ruined both my living room chairs, the love seat and is now scratching the paint off the windowsill. MUST.SEE.OUT.

Cries and hides when thunder/lightning storms come. Or for that matter, any strange high pitched chirp, ring or buzz. Favorite hiding place? The bathtub. You might go in there one day and hear heavy breathing behind the curtain. No worries, just crybaby.
Has to be loaded on Benadryl to take long car rides.
The groomer tells me that doing him is like "shaving a sheet in the wind." Poor lady cringes when I show up, dragged by him, flailing into the groomery.
Sleeps on the vent in my bedroom thus blocking the heat in the winter and the cool air in the summer.
I have on more than one occasion said he needs to live on a farm somewhere and chase cows and chickens all day.

So of course, when I saw the movie come out based on Grogan's book. I informed Splenda Daddy, (who now wants it stated for the record that he shall no longer be known as Splenda Daddy. After this Christmas, he is the real deal. My real Sugar Daddy...but I digress), that we were going to see the movie.

You are now privileged to hear my "official" review:

Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston are cast superbly as John and Jen Grogan. As a side note, I do in fact want, nay WILL, have Aniston's body. HELLO!!!
The several dogs playing the part of Marley are fantastic.
It stayed fairly true to the book and Alan Arkin, as John's boss in Florida, did an outstanding job.
Kathleen Turner's cameo as the dog obedience instructor was hilarious.
And finally, the editing, directing and cinematography were all very well done.
Oscar worthy? No way, not in that realm.
Enjoyable little film especially if you are a dog lover? Absolutely.
If you are not a lover of dogs, you won't get it. Plain and simple. You won't get it. Don't bother.

Now mind you, I read the book, I knew how it was going to end. But poor Splenda Daddy, I mean, Sugar Daddy, didn't. He had an idea of what was coming, but no matter how prepared we were, we both still bawled like little babies. Cathartic bawling.

Decided that Kasey can stay. And, now that he is getting out of his puppyhood, he is really a good dog.
Nothing like a boy and his best friend who just happens to be 100+lbs of bat-crap crazy, gentle giantness.