I will never forget the day we brought Mickey home from the pet store. He was so small that you could just fit him in the palm of your hand. He was the cutest little (mini) Yorki that I have ever since seen. As soon as he hit the ground at his new house in Belgium he went to rolling around and chasing Misty (our former cat) around the living room. Once he had finished chasing Misty he went to his new best friend, my mom.
Mickey really was one of the sweetest dog (don't ever let my mom hear you say he was a dog. She is completely convinced he thought he was one of us, even at times calling him my brother (even though I never saw a picture of me with a tail)) I have ever known. Whenever I came home from school while I lived at home Mickey would always meet me at the door. We would always greet him with "Hey Mickey" and he would just get so excited, I swear he was smiling at us some times. Whenever we would sit down to watch tv in the evening he would always hop up in our laps. And before he would take a nap on our legs he would be sure to give us kisses as if to let us know he was happy to be enjoying the time with us. However if mom ever entered the room Mickey was sure to leave who ever he was with to join her where ever she planted herself. As Mickey got older and was unable to jump up on the couch to join us, he would let us know that he wanted picked up. After we brought him up to our level he was sure to show his appreciation. For being such a small little guy (no more than 8 pounds) he sure had a lot of heart. When ever a big dog approached mom on a walk Mickey would turn into a ferocious little animal, causing the German Shepards and Irish Wolf hounds take a step back. When it was bed time, he slept at my moms side every night. Every morning when my dad woke up and got out of the shower, Mickey was sure to be there to help dry Dads ankles. Again, even when Mickey was old and had a hard time getting out of his bed he struggled and worked through the pain to get over and "dry" dad off.
My brother and I have always joked that Mom loved Mickey more than she ever loved me or Michael. Though this was only a joke the bond between Mickey and my mom really was some thing I had never seen with any other pet we have had, or any other pet that I have ever known. Wherever mom went, Mickey was just a couple of steps behind. When Michael finally headed off to college, mom had no one else to take care of but Mickey. So when I came home for Christmas over the past couple of years I was amazed at all the special treatment that Mickey was receiving. He had his own set of stairs that he used to get up on the couch. He had a new little bed next to to fire place so when it snowed in Iowa he could stay warm. If Mickey could speak and if he were asked who his best friend was, it would have without out a doubt been Mom.
Over the past couple of months Mickey's health has been deteriorating. His knees have gotten so bad to the point where he could barely walk. His throat had become swollen and made it hard for him to breathe. For the past several days Mickey has spent his time in my mothers lap as she would sit. Although I was not there, I imagine that my mom did not stay very busy, and stayed inside most of the time because she cared for Mickey so much. I can envision her sitting on the white chair in her house reading with Mickey resting on her legs, giving her kisses. Mickey's apparently had a really good time on Saturday and was able to muster the strength to chase a squirrel across the yard before his health got worse that evening.
On monday, Mom took Mickey in to the vet for a sad prognosis. Being that Mickey was in such pain mom could not bear to see him struggle any more. As they put Mickey on the table and put the needle in he began to kiss mom on the lips over and over again. Slowly Mickey went to sleep.
I really am going to miss Mickey. I know my mom is likely crying on and off these days. I remember watching the movie "All Dogs Go To Heaven" as a kid. Though I am not sure that there is any theological evidence to make any such conclusion, if there ever was a dog that might make it, and that I would wish to see again, it would be Mickey.
In Memory of the greatest dog in the world, Mickey Friesen.
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