My puppy
I just found out that Argus passed away last week, on January 20 (in case anyone doesn’t believe that it’s an unlucky day). My parents didn’t tell anyone until now because they didn’t want to spoil my brother and sister’s birthday, January 21, which was also the 17th anniversary of the day we brought Argus home. He was just a tiny puppy, and so scared that as soon as he got inside the house, he ran under the kitchen table and sat with his chin against the corner of the wall and his nose up. I was home studying for final exams when my parents took my brother and sister to the pet store to buy supplies. While they were out, I crawled on the floor to coax the puppy out from under the table, and he happily slept curled up next to me on the couch for hours while I studied.
It actually took us a few weeks to come up with a name. My English class was reading the Odyssey, so I suggested naming him after Odysseus’s faithful dog. The rest of the family agreed that it was a good name for a good dog. And he was such a good dog. He was so much fun. My family is not very close or affectionate with one another, but the one family member we always loved was Argus. He was not only a part of every family occasion, but he always stole the show.
He slowed down a lot in the last few years and had a lot of health problems, but he was doing ok for a 17-year-old dog. The vet said he had another beagle patient who lived to be 20, so we hoped Argus would live that long, too.
My dad found Argus lying on the floor, unable to get up, as though he couldn’t control one side of his body. He thought it was a stroke. The vet was out that morning for a family emergency, so my parents sat with Argus and held him while they waited for the vet to get back. When they took him in, the vet said it looked like an inner ear problem that happens in old dogs and it usually gets better in a couple of weeks. They left him at the vet, and a couple of days later, he had a heart attack and died. The vet said he found him convulsing, so he picked him up and Argus died in his arms. I hope he wasn’t just saying that to make us feel better, because I hate the thought of my puppy dying in a cage all alone. I do think the vet really cared about him, though. Every time I took him there, all the employees remembered him by name and were happy to see him (of course they were - he was such a sweet dog), and they were always very kind and gentle with him.
I will miss him so much. My parents’ house will feel so empty without him. When I go to their house, the first thing I always do is find Argus. He used to greet me at the door with his tail wagging, but his hearing hasn’t been so good the last few years, so he couldn’t always hear when people came in any more.
I wish my parents had told me when they found Argus lying on the floor. I live close enough that I could have gone to see him one last time. I could have held him and comforted him when he was scared, just like I did when I coaxed him out from under the table. I can’t really fault my parents because they didn’t know for sure how bad it was, and it was hard for them, too, but I really wish I could have said goodbye. I am grateful, though, that we didn’t have to make a decision about putting him down. I am strongly opposed to euthanasia for people, but not necessarily for pets, and I don’t know how I could possibly make a decision like that. Argus lived more than 17 years, though, and I guess it was his time to go.
This is my favorite picture of him. I took it one time when he stayed at my house while my parents were out of town. He loved to bask in the sun, so he found this spot where the sun was shining through the window.
Rest in peace, Argus, my puppy.
11/11/95-1/20/13
It actually took us a few weeks to come up with a name. My English class was reading the Odyssey, so I suggested naming him after Odysseus’s faithful dog. The rest of the family agreed that it was a good name for a good dog. And he was such a good dog. He was so much fun. My family is not very close or affectionate with one another, but the one family member we always loved was Argus. He was not only a part of every family occasion, but he always stole the show.
He slowed down a lot in the last few years and had a lot of health problems, but he was doing ok for a 17-year-old dog. The vet said he had another beagle patient who lived to be 20, so we hoped Argus would live that long, too.
My dad found Argus lying on the floor, unable to get up, as though he couldn’t control one side of his body. He thought it was a stroke. The vet was out that morning for a family emergency, so my parents sat with Argus and held him while they waited for the vet to get back. When they took him in, the vet said it looked like an inner ear problem that happens in old dogs and it usually gets better in a couple of weeks. They left him at the vet, and a couple of days later, he had a heart attack and died. The vet said he found him convulsing, so he picked him up and Argus died in his arms. I hope he wasn’t just saying that to make us feel better, because I hate the thought of my puppy dying in a cage all alone. I do think the vet really cared about him, though. Every time I took him there, all the employees remembered him by name and were happy to see him (of course they were - he was such a sweet dog), and they were always very kind and gentle with him.
I will miss him so much. My parents’ house will feel so empty without him. When I go to their house, the first thing I always do is find Argus. He used to greet me at the door with his tail wagging, but his hearing hasn’t been so good the last few years, so he couldn’t always hear when people came in any more.
I wish my parents had told me when they found Argus lying on the floor. I live close enough that I could have gone to see him one last time. I could have held him and comforted him when he was scared, just like I did when I coaxed him out from under the table. I can’t really fault my parents because they didn’t know for sure how bad it was, and it was hard for them, too, but I really wish I could have said goodbye. I am grateful, though, that we didn’t have to make a decision about putting him down. I am strongly opposed to euthanasia for people, but not necessarily for pets, and I don’t know how I could possibly make a decision like that. Argus lived more than 17 years, though, and I guess it was his time to go.
This is my favorite picture of him. I took it one time when he stayed at my house while my parents were out of town. He loved to bask in the sun, so he found this spot where the sun was shining through the window.
Rest in peace, Argus, my puppy.
11/11/95-1/20/13