Love Law Firm - November 2018

WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD BECAUSE OF SATCHMO

Satchmo was a terrible dog. But he was a very good boy.

And I must mention the farts. Grade A noxious farts. Farts that could clear a room. Farts that you could almost eat they were so substantial.

He knocked through the drywall and ate our living room wall three times until we installed oak wainscoting and that nonsense ended. The handyman loved him. Satchmo peed on anything and everything in sight without care. He ruined wall-to-wall carpeting and hardwood floors with impunity. But his favorite pee targets were the children’s toys in the backyard and our tomato plants. That was the secret to our tasty caprese salad during the summers. I tried in vain for 8 1/2 years to get him to give me paw. He never would. He looked at me like I wasn’t there. But the moment we went into the vet’s office, he would give paw to vet tech and veterinarian alike, happily and repeatedly — and even switching paws. If I stepped around the table to get in on the action, he would revert to forgetting how to give paw. He insisted on helping bring in the groceries every week. He would walk back and forth from the car to the door, taking time to pee on every flower along the path. Each way.

He would drop one where you were seated and go to another room where the air was more pleasant. He was smart that way.

And we loved him. More than we could ever express. Our home is empty without him. And we are utterly heartbroken at having to say goodbye to him. He loved us. He loved our children. He loved every visitor who ever came over. Many of our friends “enjoyed” an exuberant Satchmo greeting. He had the softest ears and muzzle. And that big mouth took treats gently with a little lick of thanks. He would have gladly paid you to scratch his back for hours. And how he loved to sunbathe! Bulldogs are supposed to be protected from the heat. He would plop himself down on the patio on the hottest of days to catch some rays. His tongue would crinkle up like an accordion. I loved that about him. It took him from being a regal English bulldog to the silly goofball that he was.

He was a terrible dog.

He came charging at me while we were playing in the backyard once and took my feet out from under me. I found myself lying on my back, staring up at the leaves above, being licked on the face by Satchy — which essentially added insult to injury.

I had wanted an English bulldog all my life. Now I know I will always have one in my life because of Satchmo. He set the bar really high.

Good boy.

When he was younger, he had his own plastic swimming pool. He loved it

Stay.

during the Summers and would leap into the air, trying to catch all the water from the hose in his mouth. Our Labrador looked at him like he was nuts. He was. We would tell baby- and dog-sitters alike to dress for Satchmo. He slobbered. He drooled. He shed constantly. His eyes were gunky from allergies. And he loved to give kisses. Big kisses. Big wet doggy kisses.

Please.

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