A mini-memoir by Bidi, guest blogger

A mini-memoir,  by Bidi, guest blogger 

(as told to and translated by Celia)  

I’m 10 now, 70 in your years. That’s as old as Jack would have been if he hadn’t chosen a MAID death because of that bloody cancer. You may think it’s weird I’m writing a memoir but I’ve got stuff to say.  
I was born to an aging bitch, Kora, who was living then with Jack and his two kids, Alexa and Tomek. She had pups once before but she was old by this time. Alexa had a young dog, Riddick, and when Jack and Pani went to Poland, my mum was left with Alexa and Tomek. Kora couldn’t resist Riddick’s charms - or something like that - anyway, when Pani and Jack returned from Poland, she was six pups pregnant! We were born on an upstairs landing in a house in Brampton. Jack took videos of mum licking away the afterbirth, a paw firmly holding us down. It was all instinct. I’ve never had pups so I don’t know.
My litter mates were all pretty but only I was brindle with blue eyes and a white diamond on my back. Jack liked me best and that back patch meant I was easily spotted in the puppy pile. He would pick me up and let me sleep on his chest. My brothers and sisters were jealous but even they liked me. I’m not the smartest in the pack but when you’re as cute as I am, who cares!
Alexa wanted to call me Diamond but Pani thought I needed a name ending in a “y” sound so she could call me with like she did the cats, a high-pitched:  “kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty." Jack hated it when Pani did that. She didn’t care though. It works. Pani wanted to call me Billie but Jack thought that was a stupid name but he wanted to keep her happy and Alexa happy — Jack was a charmer — so he called me Billie Diamond or Bidi for short. I often got called a Bidiot (sometimes Pani called Jack a Bidiot too). Pani mostly calls me Bidlet now. Or just Bid. 
Jack and Pani moved in together just after I was born. I was too cute for them to sell me like they did my siblings so I went with Jack to the new house with mum. Pani had two cats - yuck! My mum hated cats even more than I do. Jack and Pani worried about mum’s catacidal tendency. They arranged it so we could live in the basement, her stupid cats could live on the 2nd floor, and we could take turns using the main level. Sometimes we could smell cats and mum would go wild, tearing around the house, cats would hiss, Pani would panic, and Jack would laugh. 
After mum died, Jack would take me to the 2nd floor to see the cats and I would freak out a bit but not like my mum. I would, however, enjoy licking their food dishes - and OK ,to be honest, sometimes I’d eat stuff out of the litter box or clean up cat-vom too. I know it’s gross but I’m a dog, remember? Sometimes Pani forgets. She treats me like a human. 

Jack treated me better than he treated humans.  

Pani put one of her sofas in the basement because it wouldn’t fit in the living room. It was really comfie, green velvet which she protected with blankets. Mum and I slept on it when Jack and Pani were at work. Jack was supposed to put me in a cage but he was susceptible to me looking at him with big eyes or barking like crazy - either way, he never put me in that cage. One evening after we’d been all living together for a few months, Pani felt a lump in the sofa. She pulled back the blanket and discovered the gaping hole I accidentally chewed in her sofa. Jack was scared to tell Pani so he stuffed it with other blankets to keep it a secret. Pani is however too smart. She saw it and was very mad at me but mostly at Jack for lying to her about putting me in a cage. See what I mean? He treated me better than a human. Pani cried a lot about that sofa. I heard her say that was the moment she realized she was no longer single. She eventually forgave Jack (she was never really mad at me). 
You are likely wondering why I call her “Pani.” I’m half Polish and it’s a Polish word for Mrs. or mistress. Jack always called Celia Pani when he was talking about her. So I do too. Pani learned a lot of Polish because of us. She knows words like “downstairs”, “come”,“outside”, “Is Pani taking you for a walk?” “Let’s go to the park.” “Let’s go home” — you know, useful stuff. Pani cannot, however, carry on a conversation with humans in Polish, only with dogs. 
When I was two, I watched Jack plant some seeds in our new yard. They were slimy from germinating and I couldn’t resist that slightly rotten smell. I dug one up and tasted it. When Pani came home from work, I had puked all over the basement. I wouldn’t eat. Jack and Pani were both worried and called Poison Control. They realized the thing I ate was a caster bean — very poisonous. 
They took me to the hospital and the vets put me on IV and ran tests. After 12 hours, they said I would probably die. Jack didn’t want me to die in hospital so they brought me home. He slept in the basement and held tight to me to be sure I would die as happy as I could. The next day, Jack went to work and Pani lay on a lawn chair with me on top of her and again, we all waited for me to die. But I didn’t die. Eventually Pani got me to eat a little yogurt, and then some brie, and then Jack worked up to the top of the food chain - peanut butter - and I kept trying a little of each and finally I was better! I really didn’t want to die if they kept giving me such good food. I don’t understand why humans say “to die for” when they mean “to live for. “
When I was three, mum got sick. She would stand staring off into space and then a back leg would crumple and she’d plunk down on her bum. Or a front leg would let go and she’d fall over entirely. One night, we were sleeping and she had an accident on the floor. She lay down in her own pee(!). That’s how Jack found her in the morning. He was gutted. Pani was too but Jack loved mum the most because they shared a lot of history - splitting up with Alexa and Tomek’s mother, for example. Jack and Pani took mum to the vet who made her die quickly so she would not suffer anymore. They were sad but also happy they could give her this dignified death so she wouldn’t wake up in her own pee again. 
When I went outside I would forget she was dead and look for her in the corners of the yard because I thought she was hiding. Eventually I got used to mum being gone and then it was just me, Jack, and Pani. I started going to daycare where I met other dogs. Pani walked me every night and Jack fed me and played with me. I was an only dog, showered with much affection.
Then a couple of years later, Jack got sick. Jack and Pani spent long days at the hospital so I had to go to daycare more. Sometimes they were so late picking me up I felt like a loser or that I’d been abandoned. Jack stopped playing with me and Pani was so tired she sometimes didn’t have the energy to walk me so I just pooped and peed in the yard. That’s OK but I know Pani felt she was not a good dog owner.
After a few months Jack was getting better. He and Pani secretly eloped. Then they made a big deal about it and their friend designed a cartoon of me and I was supposedly announcing their wedding to the world which is kind of stupid because I can’t talk but it made Pani happy and it is a really cute cartoon.
Right around then, I’d been hanging out with this other dog, Molly, at the daycare; it was a set up!!! They were testing to see if Molly and I were compatible. When the daycare owners gave the thumbs up, Jack and Pani brought Molly to our house and made me live with her. Suddenly I had to share things with her and neither of us is very good at sharing. She cannot catch a treat in her mouth which is crazy because I’ve been doing that my whole life. And she’s not entirely house trained either so we have to sleep with a pee pad in the kitchen. (What are we, animals?) Molly squeezes me out of my bed, leaving me to squish my big bottom into her tiny bed. Molly’s sometimes sneaky and tries to steal stuff from me. I have to put my foot down or my jaws around her grubby little neck. She fights back and bites my legs and we both end up a bit bloody. Pani has to manage everything carefully because she doesn’t like it when we fight. To be honest, I could kill Molly without much effort if I wanted to. I haven’t yet really wanted to.
Molly coming is only the 2nd worst thing to happen to me because two years later, Jack got much sicker. He stopped playing with us. Pani started feeding us every night. Jack slept all day on the couch. Eventually he stopped coming to the main floor and slept all day in a bed in the basement. One day, even though we’d never been up on that bed before, Pani patted the bed to invite me to jump up. Then she lifted Molly up and we all spent time in bed with Jack. Later that day, Alexa and Tomek and some other people came and then a doctor came. Pani put us in the kitchen but when we came back down Jack was dead. Everyone said how nice it was he could choose to die without having to suffer. Just like mum, Jack was allowed to maintain his dignity and not wake up in his own pee.
Since Jack died, our lives have been more structured. Jack was fun but it was always a little crazy. Pani makes sure we eat, walk, and sleep at the same time each day which is better for us.
For the past year, Molly and I are very happy because Pani is home every day. She works upstairs and we stay in the kitchen because of the cat. (one cat died. I had nothing to do with it. Honest.) Pani got us a friend, Jennifer, who comes to the house to take us for walks, sometimes with other dogs like our friend, Teddy. Jennifer is a good friend. We also have a friend, Janice, who walks with Pani every night. Because her dog, Sophie, died and she likes to have a loaner, I let her walk Molly because I’m kind of big and I’m afraid I might take off. Janice doesn’t know anything about big dogs. We are so old now Pani often walks without us and that’s just fine. We like to sleep in the kitchen on our beds, on our pillows in the living room, or in sunny spots in the yard. We like to sleep a lot. 
I know I will likely die in the next couple of years. When I do, I will know I’ve had a good life and that Pani still has Molly who despite being older than I am will live longer because she’s littler. I think I’ve been a pretty good dog and I’m very happy to share my life story on the occasion of my 10th birthday.