Elvis's Dog Memorial

by Brittany
(California)

Elvis looking so stylish!

Elvis had belonged to other people before he came to be one of us. Unfortunately, his previous owners had not treated our boy with the kindness and respect that his tender personality required. Although this resulted in some tragically hilarious moments for our family (to be explained later), it made us all the more grateful that we had found him, and that he had found us.

His little tail, or "flag," as we called it, would bounce along the low windows of our home each morning as Elvis went through the side yard to have a morning "meeting." This sight brought daily happiness to our family, and told us that we were truly home.

With a dog named "Elvis," you're probably imagining a family of hair-gelling, blue suede shoe-wearing, "You Ain't Nothin' but a Hound Dog"-howling lunatics with posters of "The King" in every room of their home. Our beloved "King," however, came to us with that name and we didn't have the heart to change it. Besides, the name was very fitting of this dog for one very specific reason.

Any time Elvis was or thought that he was in trouble, he would nervously raise one side of his lip, and we would swear that he could be one of those white-diamond-suited impersonators you find while walking the streets of Vegas. As all of our pups seem to do, Elvis developed a nickname in our family; we called him "E-man." I especially enjoy this today, as my family now deems my husband the very honorable nickname, "G-man."

Elvis was a very, very sensitive dog. He was sure that danger was lurking around every corner, ready and willing to strike. At night we would have to be very careful not to step anywhere on or near his tail; if we did, we would almost certainly hear a long, devastating yelp that was sure to give any night-water-seeker a heart attack or two. We heard this "boooor" sound quite often in our house, as goblins and dust-bunnies unseen would attack our boy. But this fear was not confined to the walls of our home.

One day, as we all lounged in the front yard of our home, Elvis and our other dog included, we were all taken aback by this horrible sound. Turning suddenly to investigate, I inquired to my dad, who had been watching the entire thing. He said, struggling to breathe, that some fall leaves had drifted on the wind, barely grazing Elvis's haunches, and that the feel of these leaves had inspired the terrified yelp. Times such as these were definitely tragically comedic to our family.

Although we're still sure that he didn't love stormy weather, Elvis would always see fit to venture out into the rain and around the house, waiting at the large sliding glass doors for someone to have mercy on the poor soul and let him into the house (to which he already had access through the doggy door!).

One stormy day after he had had surgery and been given what our family calls the "cone of silence," our pup saw it so fit to get out into his usual rainy-day spot that he plunged his way through the doggy door, turning the conical device completely inside-out around his neck. My father heard the commotion in the night and, upon investigating, came upon Elvis, sitting in the rain in very Shakespearean style!

Everyone has that one gift from Old Aunt Marge that they prefer to keep locked up safely until she drops by for a visit. Well, we had been given just such a gift in the form of a fake plant. We all thought that this plant was simply hideous, but did not want to hurt the feelings of the close family friend and neighbor who had given it to us. So, we sat the fake plant on the floor strategically by some other decorations in our house.

One day, I, a high school student at the time, was home sick from school and lying on the couch watching television. As I lay on the couch, I could, clear as day, see Elvis arise from his spot on the floor, casually waltz over to this horrible faux-flora, and lift his leg on that very plant, all the while looking directly at me as if to say, "You're welcome." Sadly, we had to dispose of our friend's gift and explain what had happened and how we just couldn't get rid of the odor. Thanks, E-man.

Elvis had accompanied us through at least two moves in his lifetime. As an old man, he was forced once more to uproot his all-too-hectic life of eating, sleeping, and the other, and move homes once more. While we were still waiting for our new home to become available our old home had sold, so we were living for the time in a friend's lovely little rental home. The pups, of course, came with us, and were unsure about this new adjustment. However, after a week or so they seemed to settle down and find their places in this new environment.

Unfortunately, this little rental home was to be our E-man's last adjustment, as during our stay there his body failed him and, after some effort to revive his physical abilities, he quietly and peacefully passed away.

It was only very shortly after Elvis's passing that we finally discovered his breed. The next-door neighbor at our rental house had the exact same dog, which he called an Irish Glen of Imaal terrier. Sure enough, after some online research we discovered that Elvis belonged to this breed, something that we had never known while he was alive.

While our E-man was surely mourned and is still missed today, almost nine months later, we recognize that a heart as pure and loving as his needs, as you say, only a short while here with us. Our goal, as far as I'm concerned, is to watch them closely and follow them carefully, so that we may somehow adopt some of their ways and learn to become more like the "Elvises" of the world.