The Timeshare Dog - K.C.

** I had planned on starting in June and catching up to today, but alas, some events can't wait to be told, so I'm sure my posts will be out of chronological order...but you're all smart, educated people. Keep up - follow along. **


I vowed to my girlfriends tonight that I would not rush home and send a post and call them by name…umm, sorry Megan, Meg and Molly. But three drinks after dinner and voila, here I am typing my little heart out.


At dinner tonight, Molly regaled us with stories of her very sick Uncle in New York, with his very sick dog that needed to be put down and the wrangling to get her Uncle’s partner to do a power of attorney to put down the dog while her uncle was in ICU leaving Molly and her brother to share the news of the dog’s passing while running to catch a flight. As Megan said, “Why didn’t you just go to another vet and pretend it was your dog and not your Uncle’s?” Duh…. Regardless, I shared the following story with the girls – little did I know that the story was virtually unfolding while I was drinking.


15 years ago, I ventured past the suburban sprawl of a strip mall showing cute puppies to pet, and lo and behold, I decided that I needed a dog. Which dog did I pick? Why of course, a Shih Tzu, because affectionately, it could be referred to as a “Sh** Su” and seemed rather appropriate. I named her K.C., which was short for Killer Canine, because frankly, she was an enormous fur ball and anything but killer, and barely canine – she could have passed for a furry city rat at the time.


For many years, K.C. was my constant companion. She moved from one state to another with me, helped me through a divorce, was with me when I met Dave and transitioned from a Chicago suburban and Milwaukee dog to learning to pee and poop on city concrete. Ah, the life of a city living!


Dave and I were fortunate enough to rent in Chicago with awesome landlords, that not only let us have a dog (BTW, small dogs aren’t Dave’s thing, but he liked me enough to put up with it and learned to see K.C. as a big dog with his 3-D glasses on) but was willing to watch the dog when we were away.


Once we had kids, K.C. took second billing and suddenly we became the owners of a time-share dog. A what? Yes, a time share dog. In case you are unaware of what a time share dog is, let me tell you about it. Kathy, our former landlord, agreed to take K.C. in full time, while we agreed to pay for all vet bills and maintenance for K.C. Whenever Kathy would leave town, we would get K.C. for a visit, and the kids actually, legitimately, thought we owned a dog. The 4-week a year dog would end up in the family Christmas letter, in the kids pictures, and most importantly, the day to day task of caring for the dog fell to Kathy who embraced this idea whole heartedly. I suppose it’s like having joint custody without the fall-out of a divorce – who knew that the time share scenario would work so well…unless of course, it was an $400 vet bill, an $800 tumor removal, etc… I’m sure if we added the annual costs for K.C. vs. the time we had her, she was an expensive 4-week a year dog!


We had K.C. this past week at our house while Kathy was away on vacation. Mind you, K.C. is OLD – no longer running up and down the stairs, preferring to be held up to and off of the bed. As Dave and I were sleeping the other night, we heard a thud in the middle of the night. Yes, K.C. fell off of the bed (shh…don’t tell anyone…). I turned to Dave and asked (at 2:00 a.m.) – “You didn’t just kick the dog off of the bed, did you?” “Listen, I turned over, and the dog is on the floor. They are not mutually exclusive.” “Dave, you cannot use big words with me at 2:00 a.m., I actually have to think about what you said.” “Listen – I just picked up K.C., she seems fine – in fact, I think K.C. is half cat. Yes, she has nine lives, and it appears that she landed on her feet.” And so it was, K.C. seemed A-OK…and Dave promptly did the same thing the next night, with the exact same results.


After Kathy picked up K.C. last night – and K.C. could not have been more thrilled – I commented to Kathy that I thought perhaps K.C. was depressed being at our house. Chaos, commotion, Dave kicking her off the bed, etc. She seemed so excited to be escaping the prison of our home, it was palatable.


This evening, when I returned home, Dave met me at the door with the following news, “I just got home from Kathy’s, K.C. passed away this evening.” “What – you mean she didn’t have nine lives – you killed her didn’t you?” “No, I did not, she passed away peacefully at Kathy’s.” “You’re lying, I see a smile lurking behind those sad eyes…and I’ve been drinking which is so unfair, because I don’t know if you’re being truthful or lying.” “I’m not lying – in fact, I brought K.C. home. She’s on the kitchen table.” “Geez! On the table? OMG!”


And while I sincerely thought I would minimally see my 40th with K.C. celebrating alongside, and possibly even hitting menopause with K.C. curled up in the corner, her nine cat-like small-dog lives expired tonight. At literally the same time I was talking about K.C. “The Time Share Dog” with my girlfriends. Who knew….


So – may K.C. rest in peace. She was a wonderful dog, a great companion, and lived a happy life among multiple households, many homes, etc. And may Dave feel just a tad bit guilty for kicking her off the bed in the final week of her life.