A Sad Biography of My Dog

So I have two dogs, one named Lola and one named Domino. Lola is a dachshund, Domino is a beagle-Rottweiler mix. I'll let you imagine how exactly happened.

For the sake of simplicity, I'm just gonna talk about Domino. She's had kind of a rough life so far.

I wanna say we got Domino when I was in 5th grade. I went up to Rantoul after school one day with my mom and brothers to pick her up from the shelter. She's jet-black, except for a white stripe running down from her chin down to the rest of her underside. When we were taking her back, I had to carry her in my lap. It was really weird, because she wasn't really excited or jumpy. More than anything else, she just seemed scared.

She sat still the entire way back, only moving to readjust herself. Nowadays if she tried sitting on me she would probably crush something.

Domino's become much larger over the seven years we've had her. She grew about two feet longer and much heavier in the span of about a year, and I haven't been able to pick her up for a long time because she's so heavy. Being the great pet owners my family members are, we fed her so much that she became fairly overweight about five years ago. Ever since then we've been actively cutting down on how much she consumes. It was heartbreaking to bring her food down from three meals a day to one. She would beg for more for a long time after getting fed, and you could tell that she was going to bed hungry. But after a while, she just kind of became resigned to the fact that she had to eat less. She stopped whining and just...took the portions as they were. Eventually we were able to bump it back up to two meals a day, but now you can barely tell if she's hungry because she's gotten very good at hiding it.

In fact, it's hard to tell how she's feeling at all. Most days she's either inside lying on her bed or  chasing something in the woods behind our house. And she doesn't really respond when you're trying to play with her. Actually, I take that back. She'll go along with it, but almost...reluctantly, I guess. If dogs can be reluctant.

But as I was saying, you can't really tell when something's wrong with her. It's like she doesn't like telling people about her problems. And I'm aware dogs can't talk, but Domino just isn't very expressive in general. A year ago she got a stick lodged in the back of her jaw and we didn't find out about it until three days later, when we noticed she was trying to dig something out of her mouth. We helped her, of course, but it felt like she wasn't really looking for help. Like she had resigned herself to the fact that there was a stick in her mouth from then on.

In fact, the last time I think she was in real noticeable pain was about 4 years ago. One day during the winter when everything the ground was covered in three or four inches of snow, my youngest brothers decided to smash some glass bottles we had sitting in the garage because they thought it would be fun to break some stuff. Later that afternoon, Domino came back to our house crying because she had shredded her paws on broken glass. My parents had to bandage her paws up themselves because the vet couldn't send someone out in that weather. And it was painful to watch them do it. Domino kept trying to get out of my mom's hold as my dad put on the bandages, and she was crying the entire time. The whole ordeal took about 20 minutes, but I could only watch for about 3 because it was too much.

It seems like Domino's life has just been a series of unfortunate events. By no means is she dumb or lazy; she's a really great dog to have. She doesn't beg for attention or anything, she just goes with the flow, lets you do whatever. It's really helpful, because then we don't have to constantly keep her entertained. But it does make me feel like I'm neglecting her sometimes. I just wish she wasn't so lonely. We originally got Lola as a friend for Domino, but I don't think Lola has never really filled in the hole Domino has.

Back in eighth grade, we had this other dog named Daisy. She was a dachshund, similar to Lola, and she was what Domino came home to when we originally got her. The two were practically inseparable. Daisy was the alpha of the two, and Domino had absolutely no problem with that. Domino would let her eat food first, lead the way around the yard, sleep in her bed, and so on. Wherever Daisy went, Domino was right behind her, but never the other way around. I'm pretty sure Domino didn't like being the leader; she was fine with following.

One night, when my family and I were gone, we left Daisy and Domino outside so they wouldn't be stuck in their crates for the entire night. When we came back later that night, Domino was right outside the front door, frantically trying to get in. Daisy wasn't anywhere in sight. My dad went out to look for her the next day, but all he found was her collar in the woods behind the house.

We aren't entirely sure what happened that night. My dad thinks it was coyotes, which is probably the most likely explanation. Either way, Domino had lost her leader and closest friend. I don't know if dogs can have depression, but if they can, I'm pretty sure Domino got it. She was just...sad. For months afterward. She would barely eat, go outside, do anything, really. She had lost the only guidance she really had, and she didn't know what to do with herself. Of course she recovered overtime, but I still don't know to what extent. We got Lola to try and make her feel less lonely, but I'm not entirely convinced it helped. Lola looks up to Domino, which is bad for Domino, because that puts her in a leadership position she doesn't like. It just always seems like she wants to be alone more than anything else. She'll play together with Lola occasionally, but more often than not she keeps herself separated.

Of course, I love Domino. To me, she's the best pet our family's had thus far. I just wish that I could help her somehow. I know she can't always be sad, but she's the kind of dog that gives off that vibe of perpetual tiredness and reluctance to do anything. I don't think she's ever been a real "social" dog or anything, but the stuff that's happened in her life certainly doesn't help that. She's just kind of coasting along with her normal life, eating, sleeping, running around outside, on repeat forever. I certainly don't want to lose her, but you have to think that life could have gone much better for her.

But yeah, that's my depressing blog post about Domino. I hope you liked it, or at least got some sentimental value out of it. Domino's a great dog, she's just had to deal with some terrible circumstances.