Losing a family member, even a dog, is difficult

I had intended to write another rant about the dishonesty of our nation's politicians this week, but things changed Monday night and I was compelled to change my topic. After all, we all know politicians on the national level - whether Republican or Democrat - are dishonest. Otherwise, the world would be a much different place.
Politicians talk about opposing deficits, but they create them. They say they are for lower taxes, yet they are the ones that create all taxes and have the power to lower them or do away with them all together. They say they are for term limits, but will not take action to create a law to prevent politcians from serving forever - except the president who may serve only two terms.
But, enough of that or I will go full-force into my rant.That's what I had intended to write and rant about this week, but no - like I said things changed Monday night.
Sometime after 7 p.m., my wife and kids burst into tears while I was preparing to write my column. It was a sad moment. "Mr. Happy" died - that's the nickname our friends gave our dog Cudreaux. He would have been 15 years old this Christmas. We found Cudreaux at the Phenix City dog pound. He was a tiny, fuzzy puppy with a friendly attitude. He changed over the years. He grew into a very large and unfriendly dog. I guess that is an unfair assessment of his transformation. He was only unfriendly to strangers or anyone that was not a member of our family and that includes the other animals we live among.
When Cudreaux was younger, we allowed him to roam free. That was a mistake. Cudreaux would roam over to our neighbors' homes and pilfer a shoe or two, but never a pair. Many was the time one of our neighbors would be looking around our yard in hopes of finding their missing shoes. They usually found them without damage. For some reason, Cudreaux just wanted to steal the shoes. He wouldn't chew them.As he grew older, he developed a nasty attitude about people he did not live with.
My friend Phil Eckert had a special dislike for Cudreaux and the feeling was mutual. Once Phil decided to sneak outside to smoke a cigerette in our driveway. Phil was not supposed to be smoking. He had promised his wife he would quit. I guess Cudreaux knew this and wanted to express his displeasure that Phil had broken his promise to his wife, Kim. Cudreaux ran up behind Phil in the dark and almost gave him a heart-attack with the noise he made. Phil thought Cudreaux was Cujo.
On another occassion, Cudreaux pinned Phil between his truck and our house when he arrived when no one was home. Fortunately, by this time, we had put Cudreaux on a running cord, giving him some freedom, but not complete freedom to roam as he had in the past. Phil escaped unscathed.
In the last few years, Cudreaux lived most of the time in our laundry room. We would just leave the back door open and allow him to come in and out as he pleased. He loved that room. He had his own fan to cool him off on hot days. When we shut the door to the room in the evening, he would bark to let us know he needed to go out. He shared the room with any animal that lived in our home. He loved company - company he knew. There was a cat named Jack that started staying around our house. Jack was not our cat. Jack was Cudreaux's cat. At night, Cudreaux would stand in the driveway and bark until Jack came inside with him.
If, by chance, Cudreaux escaped his running cord, he would venture into the other parts of the house to check on us. He liked to lay in the living room until he was taken back to his room and put back on his cord. Sometimes I sat in the floor with him and scratch his back. He liked being scratched most of the time. When he did not want to be scratched, he would growl and snap at you. He never bit anyone, but he made it plain that he was prepared to - even the people he liked. He had strange ways, but don't we all.
The best thing about Cudreaux was the fact he never was a slacker when it came to his job of protecting us. Day or night, no one came near our home without Cudreaux sounding the alarm. Strangers would ask if he would bite and we would assure them he would not as long as he could not get to them.
We have a friend who said he was going to pet Cudreaux some day. It never happened. Our friend coaxed Cudreaux with food to gain acceptance. It did not work. Cudreaux was thankful for the food, but our friend was not going to get the opportunity to pet him. He could just put the food down and back away slowly. Our friend vowed to pet Cudreaux even if he had to wait until he was dead. That didn't happen either. Our friend was out of town when Cudreaux died. We called to let him know Cudreaux was dead and our friend was saddened. He knew Cudreaux had won the battle of wills.
Now, we have no Cudreaux. We just have memories of a dog that was a big part of our lives for nearly 15 years. It is always tough when a family loses a loved one, even one with a bad attitude and lots of fur. I have heard all dogs go to heaven. I don't know if that is true or not, but, if Cudreaux is there, he will sound the alarm for St. Peter when someone reaches the Pearly Gates. My advice to those people entering the gates - don't try to pet him.