It's Andy Fish!

Above; Austin helps Veronica with Christmas Cards.

You’d be forgiven if your first response to my continued sadness since the loss of our beloved Australian Silk Terrier, Austin, way back in January was “get over it– he was just a dog!” because you never met Austin, or you’ve never had a dog like Austin because he was truly one of a kind.

Let me paint the picture for you (and as always feel free to move on and read CJ Kennedy’s Blog instead of mine); 2016- we bought a house for what at the time seemed like a lot of money– and we put a pretty massive down payment down (in hindsight we bought at the perfect time with a near zero level interest rate and the house is now worth double, but that’s beside the point) and as we were on our way to our attorney to sign some papers Veronica had a panic attack– she had it at a coffee shop we’ve never been to since, but I’m sure the people working there were convinced something bad happened when my wife suddenly started crying at our table. It was a lot of money, after all, and I’d essentially picked out this house on my own after nearly six months of looking.

We signed the papers and moved in– and I decided every house needs a dog– I wanted a dog both for companionship and because I wanted a dog that would bark if someone came on the property– I’m funny that way. The conversation, mere days after that panic attack happened, went something like this while she was painting the kitchen cabinets from white to eggshell.

“I don’t think we should get a dog right now.”

“I know, but this dog is looking for a good home, the people are eager to rehome him, and he’s pretty much the kind of dog we want.”

“I know, but I don’t think we should get a dog right now.”

“Okay- I’m just going to go meet him, see how he is, I very likely won’t be bringing him home.”

I think she knew I was lying, but I’m not sure.

I drove to White City Plaza and circled the strip of stores and fast food that included Five Guys and as I rounded the corner I saw a woman with two teenagers standing outside their car– inside the car standing up in the rear window was a golden Yorkie (we later discovered he was an Australian Silky) who seemed very anxious to be let in on the action.

I pulled up and the teenage girl was clutching some Spider-Woman comics for Veronica to sign. Sadly I told her I’d come alone, I offered to take them and mail them back but she declined.

As I walked towards the window the teenage boy opened the back door and the Yorkie jumped out, proudly wearing a sweater (my previous dog, an actual Yorkie– ran when I showed her the sweaters that her previous owners had sent). He trotted over to me and sat on my foot, now facing his old family as if he was saying goodbye.

I looked down at him, he looked up at me and I smiled. “I guess it’s a deal.” I said as I handed the woman the agreed upon re-homing fee. I asked the kids if they wanted to say goodbye– they said no, and as I walked away the woman warned me– “By the way- he barks at doorbells and strangers, I was surprised he didn’t bark at you.”

As we drove up Belmont Hill heading back to our new home Austin looked over at me and climbed on my lap to stick his head out my window. He rested his head on my arm that rested there and enjoyed the late September breeze as we headed home.

I walked him at the park next door to my house and then brought him inside to Veronica who was still painting cabinets.

She looked at him and his little smile and she started to melt, then he started barking at her like crazy– and she started to cry again.

For about a half second I worried I’d made a mistake. But as I’d learn very quickly it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and Veronica would agree in a very short time.

More another time.

Austin J. Poobalah was more than a dog- he was truly a friend who on more than one occasion viciously fought to defend me, warn me or show me that he had my back. He asked for little in return except to be able to sit next to me on the couch and go for rides whever I was able to take him.