Ladybug the Pitbull

I first met Ladybug back in the late 1980s. I don't have any photos of her, although I wish I did. Back then we didn't have smartphones, computers, or any of that stuff. Taking photos or making videos wasn't even a thought.

I had taken a job in Virginia, which was about a four hours drive from my home in Western Pennsylvania. Being a young twenty-something year old, the plan was to live in my van, sort of like camping, during the work week and then drive home on the weekends with a pocket full of cash.

The job was the night shift at an industrial plant that needed a five-man skeleton crew at night. There was a shower at work and they were okay with me camping in their gravel parking lot. I got a friend of mine a job there with me.

This friend invited his girlfriend's brother to come join us. The new plan was for this newcomer to stay with me in the van until he and my friend could afford an apartment. My friend slept in his own car. His girlfriend's brother brought his dog. So now the plan was for me, a stranger I'd never met, and the stranger's dog to all camp-out in my van together.

The dog's name was Lady and she was about five or six years old. I liked Lady right off the bat and she liked me too. I would find myself awakening with Lady nestled between my legs. A few days into our camping adventure, Lady gave herself a good roll in some nasty smelling shit.

"Whew! There's no way you're sleeping in the van smelling like that!"

I hooked Lady up to her rope-leash and took her into the showers, half dragging her at times. I shampooed her up and hosed her down. She seemed okay with it all.

Later the evening I asked my new companion, "Just what kind of dog is Lady?"

He replied, "She's a Pitbull Terrier, a full-blooded one too!"

I was a little surprised, having heard about what a dangerous breed pitbull's were from the media.

"You mean to tell me I just put a rope around a pitbull's neck and dragged it into the showers? The dog has been sleeping between my legs at night too..."

Me and the Lady became good friends in a very short time. I would play stick, fetch, with her several times a day. She was becoming more my dog than my companions, and I knew that bothered him.

Somewhere into the second week of this arrangement I came to the conclusion that my new friend was an alcoholic and an abusive dog owner. His father had been a member of one of the larger biker clubs and he apparently had gotten the dog so he could brag about what a mean vicious dog he had. The dog would cringe when he yelled at it by name, 'Lady!'. This prompted me to start calling her 'Bug, instead.

Confirmation came during a weekend trip home. My new friend wanted me to slightly detour our weekend trip home so he could visit his wife, whom he was separated from. Like a fool, I agreed.

During this visit he got a little drunk and abusive. A fight with his wife ensued and he took his anger out on the dog. He kicked it in the face, hard! Blood flew and Lady went running down the street.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!", I yelled at him, before turning to pursue the dog.

I had no idea where she went. I couldn't find her. After about ten minutes of wandering the streets I found myself in front of a church where I had been playing stick with Lady earlier. I sat down on the steps and called out loudly, "'Bug! Laay-Dee-Bug!"

To my surprise the nearby bushes began to rustle. Something was in there. I called again, softer. "Ladybug? Hey 'Bug!"

Ladybug came out with her head hung low. She came right up to me and I began to pet and hug her. I was so relieved to have found her I almost cried.

"Alright, this is my dog now. Fuck him. He's never going to do that to you again."

It took about a month or so for me and 'Bug to separate from the companion. I was young, 'How do you take another man's dog and have him willingly give it to you?'

***

I found a job back home as a fuel truck driver and rented a mobile home out in the country. Me and 'Bug were happy there. She understood me and I understood her. We would go on daily walks through the fields and woods. Never would I have to put her on a leash or a chain. Never did she run away from me.

She had a litter of puppy while we were there. That was a new experience for me, a very pleasant one at that. I kept one of the pups. His name was Luther. Luther grew big and strong. He was just a big happy-go-lucky boy. A Beautiful looking dog.

He was about seven months old when I found him dead out in the field. A hunter had shot and killed him, but that's a different story for another time.

After about two years, the 'Bug and I moved into a big old farmhouse a few miles away. The house had belonged to the deceased parents of the man I rented it from and he just wanted someone to live in it and fix the place up a bit. He never came to collect rent in the three years that I was there, telling me not to worry about it when I tracked him down to pay.

Those were the happiest three years of my life, without a doubt. Me and 'Bug had over two hundred acres of fields and woods to roam, with no nearby neighbors. This was backwoods farm country with dirt roads.

Down through the woods there were multiple gas pipelines that provided us with built-in trails to walk. We could walk for hours on those trails and never see another soul, with scant hints of civilization.

At the bottom of the wooded hills was a good-sized creek, and naturally, we had our swimming holes. 'Bug loved to go swimming. She loved to chew on thick sticks, too, so I kept a collection of them for her. A two liter bottle filled with water was one of her favorite toys. She would 'attack' it until it punctured and sprayed the water all over the place. We used a waterless version of the jug indoors.

When she couldn't find a stick or jug to gnaw on, she would try to chew on a brick or a rock and had her teeth squared off because of it. I tried desperately to discourage her from doing that.

Me and the 'Bug were together for over ten years. I could tell you dozens of stories about her - encounters with skunks, encounters with groundhogs, an encounter with a porcupine, a few litters of puppies, 'Bug and my grandma whom 'Bug loved very much, 'Bug and the visiting preacher, etc...

I'll save those stories just for me until another time, even though I know it probably defeats the purpose of this challenge. Let me just say that 'Bug was the best dog and companion I ever had. She wasn't just a dog, she was my friend. I'll also add that one of the most awesome sights on earth is a happily tensed-up pitbull, with it's eyes bugging out full of excitement and it's tail wagging at the speed of a blur.

The saddest day of my life was the day I carried her into the vets to have her put to sleep. At age seventeen or so, her hips went bad and she couldn't walk anymore. I had seen this coming for about a year, as her condition slowly and progressively got worse.

I wanted to delay this trip as long as I could but 'Bug and I both knew it was time. I had a tear or two as I walked out of that place alone. A man in his thirties crying over a dog, what does that tell you?

A few years later I had a dream. It was one of those dreams that are so real that you can't tell that it's a dream. Me and 'Bug were playing fetch out in a field that we had gone to often. Everything seemed just like it had always been. She was happy and I was happy.

We had a rubber ball and I bounced it hard into the ground so it flew high into the sky. I was expecting 'Bug to try to catch it or chase it down after it bounced back to the ground, but this time she didn't. Instead she immediately flew up into the sky after it and I realized I was only dreaming, while I was dreaming.

I instantly awoke and knew it was 'Bug coming back to visit me. She was letting me know that everything was alright and she was happy up there in that place where she had gone.