In 2002, I left my job at Betsey Johnson and went to work full time dancing. I had always wanted a dog and I always had a soft spot in my heart for the Pomeranian. They are just so cute and fluffy! I mentioned to one of my dance students (whom also happened to be a vet at the Bronx Animal Care and Control) that I was interested in adopting a dog from the shelter. My flexible schedule was perfect for having a new dog.
I lived in a studio so I needed a small dog. "I would take any of them, but if you come across a Pomeranian, I want it!", I told her knowing that getting a Pomeranian in the shelter was a stretch. About a week later she came to class with a Polaroid photo of her holding a cute, white Pomeranian. I knew he was mine!
My friend went on to tell me that they were driving around the Bronx in the rescue van when they came across an overpass which they frequently found dead cats and little dogs used for "bait" for fighting dogs then dumped there by the monsters that stole them. This particular night they saw a little fluffy white dog mauled nearly to death, but still alive. When I went to see him for the first time, he was nothing but a fluffy head and stitches. When I brought him home, my dance partner Roddy said "After all he's been through, you better not name him Snowball! He needs a tough name." Roddy was right. I named him Spike.
Spike was a hoot! He thought he was a big dog even though he only weighed 6 lbs. He used to ride in my bike basket all over Manhattan! He was my boy!
When I decided to serve a mission, my sister came to New York and took him to Atlanta while I was away. Between friends and relatives, Spike was well cared for. When I returned from my mission, my mom and and her husband had fallen in love with him. I stayed in Atlanta for 3 months after my mission and when Spike and I were going back to NYC, my mom pulled me aside and asked if they could keep Spike until I got settled in NYC again. I said OK. Every trip back to Atlanta ended the same way when I tried to bring him home.
I got married, moved to SLC, got 2 more dogs, a Yorkie (Toby) and another Pomeranian (Zoe). After my mom passed away, I thought I would be bringing Spike home after the funeral, but her husband couldn't take losing my mom and Spike, so I left him to keep Papa Jay company.
This morning I received a call that Spike passed away. If you don't have a dog or think of dogs as just animals we keep as pets, you may not get the pain that is in my heart over losing Spike. I don't have kids so I think of my dogs as my furry babies. Even though Spike hasn't lived with me for a while, he is still my little boy. I just looked at it as if he was at boarding school (hee hee).
I will never forget the joy he brought to me and everyone who scratched his belly. I love you my little Spike! I hope you are in heaven getting a belly rub from Miss Lillie!