Back when I was still living at home in Maryland with my parents my mom finally went out and got the dog of her dreams. She had always wanted a little pomeranian and I don't know why she waited her whole life to get one, but I remember her bringing this little fur ball home on Christmas - he was so tiny and cute. He had red hair and we had always liked the show Melrose Place, so we came up with the name Sydney, because sydney on Melrose Place was really cute and she had red hair and we really liked her.
All my friends were over that day when Sydney came home and we all took turns holding him because he was just so damn cute and loveable.
Through the years I battled with my addictions, but Sydney remained a constant in my parent's life. I bought a house and moved to Crofton, Sydney was still there. I went to rehab, Sydney was still there. I moved to Florida, Sydney was still there. I came out to Vegas and they still had Sydney.
Of course, Sydney battled his own issues. He was like the runt of the litter so he had a lot of problems. He jumped off a picnic table and broke his leg, my parents paid for the surgery and his poor little leg never healed correctly so he wobbled around with a limp because even if they would have had his leg re-broken, there was no guarantee it would have healed properly and they didn't want to put him through that pain. He battled cancer and lost an eye, but he still made it through. He had to have a major surgery on his stomach to fix some internal issues and he made it through. He had asmtha, he had skin problems, but he was a fighter and through it all he was a really happy dog.
So, last week my parents went to North Carolina and sometimes they would take Sydney with them on trips, but he would get really upset and start freaking out whenever he left the house and he didn't really like being in the car, so they decided it would be easier on him if he stayed at home and my Uncle came for the week to take care of him.
I got this call late Saturday night that something happened to Sydney and my parents had to leave North Carolina and drive back home....
Sydney was outside doing his business when two big neighborhood dogs ferociously attacked him. He had no chance. The poor thing was rushed to the hospital with broken bones and ribs and I think a punctured lung. My parents had to make the really painful decision to put him down. This is how his life ends? After all the years and all the surgeries and all of the health issues he had - his life ends because he was attacked by two big dogs????? What the hell? It's such a horrible fucked up way to die. It just really sucks.
Little Sydney was such a fighter and such a happy dog and my parents took such good care of him. I don't know that many people would have shelled out the money that they did for all of the surgeries and all of the trips to the vets and all of the special shampoos and lotions and pills he needed for his health issues, but my parents loved him so much - he was literally their baby and they would do anything for him just like they would do anything for me.
I know when my parents move out here to Vegas they will get another cute little fluffball doggy and hopefully it'll be a really healthy one and it will live a long time - but we'll never forget Sydney.