You don't need three dogs boy...

Dear son,

I’m sure you have memories of dogs in your life, but if you wonder where the first memories of the three black dogs come from, they are Kesey, Franklin and Millie. Kesey is eight now, Franklin is five and Millie is three. I can’t tell you enough about these three dogs, except to say they all have unique personalities, love us (as we do them) unconditionally, and I can’t imagine a world without them.

Kesey is the oldest. He’s named after Ken Kesey, the author of One Flew Over the Cuckoos’ Nest. I picked that name because he was pretty crazy as a pup. I always wanted a dog who swims and fetches, and with Kesey, I got that. Once, when I was camping with some friends, Kesey swam in a river and fetched a ball four six hours straight. One of the first times he stayed at your grandma Weyricks (she wasn’t too sure about having a big dirty dog in her house to begin with) he threw-up all over her foot. He also used to drag big sticks into the house through the dog door.

I guess he doesn’t really have the best manners, but he’s a great friend and loyal to us beyond belief. He has the spirit of a champion, even though his front teeth are crooked. Rain, snow, heat, water—none of that matters to him. He loves to lay in the muck, swim in a lake, or wade in the ocean. Your mom and I took him on our honeymoon with us and one time when I was in the water a wave blocked me from Kesey’s view. He charged into the water to save me and I had to come close to shore so he didn’t freak out. That entire trip he tried to bury his toy in the sand and I strategically placed his ball so he would throw dirt on your mom. Kesey and I thought that was funny, but your mom wasn’t as amused for some reason.

Kesey has been a constant companion in our life. He used to come running out of the woods with three or four foot sticks in his mouth when we took him hiking as a pup. He would come running down the trial with the stick in his jaws and run it into the back of our legs. I think he thought that was pretty funny, because he definitely has a sense of humor. Other things he likes to do are rubbing against dry pants when he’s wet and it’s cold out, and shaking off right by you when you are clean and dry.

One time we went hiking for a couple of days on the Appalachian trial, and he walked and ran all day long. After we stopped, set up camp and Kesey ate, he started nosing the zipper of the tent when he was ready to go to sleep. I had to bring an extra sleeping pad for him, otherwise he would lay on mine and not move. Wet and dirty, we kept each other warm and comfortable for those couple of nights.

Franklin started off as a foster dog we were only keeping for a couple of days, but it only took five minutes for us to fall in love with him. He apparently was wondering the streets and was picked up by the Humane Society and dropped off at the county shelter. I can’t imagine how or why anyone would want to give-up on this guy. For the first couple of days Franklin was very sick. He seems to have an irritable bowl to begin with, so I guess living on the street drinking water from a ditch and eating who knows what must have really made him sick. At one point we were pretty sure he was going to die. After three or four emergency trips to the vet, and a couple of days of normal food and water, he was fine.

He has one fascination and it’s fetching. He’ll fetch just about anything including balls, toys and stuffed animals, although, for some reason, unlike Kesey, he doesn’t like to fetch sticks. Did I mention these dogs like to swim and fetch at the same time? Kesey, of course, was the fastest swimmer at the park for a long time (eventually he slowed down). Franklin, however, has the desire to never stop. I think he likes it best when he can take a flying leap off of something into the water, making the biggest splash possible. I always say “oh ye of little brain” when I talk to Franklin because of his fixation on fetching. I think you mom would say he likes to cuddle and give kisses just as much as he likes to fetch.

Millie is one of those dogs we truly saved from death. To put it one way, she has a personality disorder that requires constant attention. She really wants to be good and she is defiantly smart. When she performs her tricks she is so proud of herself that she can’t contain her own smiles. When we tell the other two to sit, it’s always Millie who is right there, sitting and waiting to be acknowledged. The other two never required as much training—especially Kesey—so they really just do whatever they want. Millie, however, needs to be told what to do and when to do it. That’s okay. We love her now too. She’s still a bit indifferent to all of us sometimes, but she mostly sleeps in the same room with us now. She likes to patrol the yard when we’re all outside, and I guess that’s okay, it gives her a job and she likes to work.

I get sad when I think about the future and these three dogs growing old and eventually dying. They are all in great shape right now, but Kesey is getting grey in his face and belly. I know there will be others and I really do love Franklin and Millie, but there is something special about Kesey. Maybe it’s because he helped me through a really rough time in my life that I’m so attached to him. Or maybe it’s because he’s helped me actually live so much of my life that I love him so much. It’s probably a combination of both of those things and the fact that my life has been so good since I met both him and your mom. Kesey truly is a champ.

Franklin is a ray of light every day and we can count on him to make us smile. His half-sideways, perplexed look when waiting for someone, anyone, to throw the ball makes me laugh. He never complains, or gets too pushy. He follows Kesey’s lead, and he doesn’t get mad when Millie pushes him around. He loves to be loved and the kisses never stop from him.

Millie reminds me of the need to be patient, and to provide unconditional love. It’s taken awhile for her to give this love back. I think for a long time she thought we were going to get rid of her, or hurt her, but she’s finally letting all of that go and she’s becoming the dog she is capable of being. Don’t get me wrong, there are still times when she pushes the boundaries (I think she hopes to eventually be the alpha dog—yeah, like the pack needs a crazy leader), but she is special and we all love her.

I’m not sure any of this captures the spirit or nature of the way we all live here, waiting for you to come, excited for your first wet dog nose and sloppy dog kiss. We get nervous when we think about you chasing Franklin and Millie around in your little walker. But I’m optimistic and think it will all be fine. Especially if you learn to throw the ball for Franklin at an early age.

We all love you,
Dad

"And they say to me,say "You don't need three dogs boy"
But I say that we all need a friend
And they're askin me "Don't they give you hard times?"
And I say yeah, but they'll be there in the end."