We had to put our dog to sleep last week. Grits was 15 years old, and it was time. I like to joke that she finally lost her battle with Itchiness because she spent well over half her life scratching and gnawing at herself because she had some kind of skin disorder that no vet ever had an answer for. 
Grits gnawing on herself...like always
It's hard to remember Grits as a puppy. She has seemed like an elderly lady for so long, that it is difficult to remember her when she would run and play...or even expend any energy for anything other than getting extra food.
In 1996, my sister Jennifer, a senior in high school at the time decided she wanted a puppy just 6 months before she would move away to Kansas to go to college.
Right away, I noticed that Grits was a stubborn dog. She was plenty smart enough to be house trained, but would sometimes just poop or pee in the house out of convenience. She knew we would clean it up, why hold it? Once she even pooped on one of my Christmas presents just to make a point, I think. But the stubbornness was borne out of her smarts. Grits was a really smart dog. All the little things that puppies do that is cute - like chase a laser pointer around the floor - Grits would figure out after about 10 minutes and that was that. She grew up fast.
Grits learned a few tricks - sit, shake, lay down - but quit doing them after about a year because she knew the treat was out of the box and was meant for her whether she did our stupid trick or not. So, she would just sit quietly and look at you like you were an idiot for holding a dog biscuit in front of her and saying, "Sit...Siiiiiiiittttt. GRITS, SIT!" The reason I know is because if you ever stepped up the quality of the treat (say, from a biscuit to a bacon strip), Grits would go through her whole routine to speed you up. She was always like the kid that was too old for Halloween, but knocked on your door anyway and asked for candy. "Yeah, yeah...whatever, just give me the candy." It may sound terrible, but it was always something that we loved about her. She was only truly a puppy for a very short time, and then she morphed into an old lady.
Two years after Jennifer got Grits, my mom let me get a dog too. I picked out Pistol from the pound and brought him home. Grits disliked him right away, but he loved her unconditionally. He followed Grits all over the house, constantly looked to her for approval, and always deferred to her. Always. Eventually, Grits started to see the value in having a younger sibling around. He could be the one to bark, scratch at the door, wake up the owners to let them out. So Grits tolerated Pistol, that was their relationship. Then, she began to love him in her own way, and they just kind of went together. Pistol & Grits, the Queen and the court jester.
Grits trying to remain indifferent to the puppy who would love her forever.
They only spent one year apart, when Jennifer took Grits up to Kansas for her Jr. year. Jen's roommate played the Cello, and when she would practice in her room, Grits would go and sit outside the door and "sing" along. Jennifer got a HUGE kick out of this.
Once mom sent Jen a care package that had a stuffed toy for Grits in it. Jennifer described it as "the ugliest squirrel I've ever seen." So, Jen named it after my mom, Linda P, and taught Grits that that was the thing's name. When my mom went to visit, Jennifer said, "Grits, go get Linda," and she ran upstairs and grabbed the ugly squirrel. My mom got a HUGE kick out of that one.
But through it all, Grits remained lovably stubborn. She would dig out of the yard and then just sit on the porch as if to say, "I didn't have anywhere to go, just did this because I can." She would crawl under the bed to avoid being sent to the backyard as if to say "I know you've got somewhere to go, and I can do this all day..." That's just the kind of dog she was.
We decided it was not a good idea to ever split the dogs up again. So, they lived together for a while with Jennifer, and then they moved in with me and Dana. Dana was not a dog person. Seeing their routine and how they interacted with each other won Dana over. And she saw how they were a package deal.
Grits had a tumor on her back leg that slowly cut down on her already rare physical exertion. She would limp back and forth from the yard only to eat and "do her business." All the running around was left to Pistol. But her stomach was like an alarm clock and every day within 5 minutes of 5:00, she would yip "Time to eat." And she would continue to yip until you fed her. Again, stubborn.
On Monday, her legs started failing. We had "the moment" where you just know your dog is suffering. It was heartbreaking.
What I'll remember about Grits was how quirky she was, and how learning her quirks was the joy of being her owner. I'll remember how if she wanted something bad enough to bark, it would begin as a heavy breath, then a blow that sounded like a sneeze, then a "whisper," then a full-on bark - like she wanted you to know how annoying you were being to not jump up every time she thought you should. I'll remember how itchy she always was, and how she would chew on her leg until she was exhausted, then catch her breath, and start chewing again. I'll remember how she would bark at other dogs and then check to make sure Pistol was still behind her in case there actually would be a fight and he could take care of it. I'll remember how she'd scratch her own back: violently roll onto her back in the yard, and then shimmy with her legs in a bicycle motion (she did this all day). And I'll remember how when she was sweet to you, you felt like you'd earned it because she saved her sweet moments and only came and nuzzled up to you once in a while.
I'll miss Grits a lot. Probably not as much as Pistol will, but a lot. It was a really sad day on Thursday. My mom drove over from Tuscaloosa because she wanted to say goodbye. That night, I went to feed Pistol. He would always wait for Grits to eat first before he started eating. This time he looked around and was confused. Where was she? A couple of moments later he just started eating...he is a dog after all. A few days later and he keeps looking around for her. I think he'd rather be picked on once in awhile than live as the lone Jackson dog. I know that's what Dana and I want too. We will all miss Grits.
