Hailey the Comet

16 Aug

This post is dedicated to my dog, Hailey, because I feel that if the cat and fish have been featured, Hailey should be too. True, she has been my longest companion, but I didn’t feel I had good photos of her for use here. I wanted to do her justice. But, because she’s getting older, and her arthritis isn’t getting better, she is now adorable in every photo.

It all started out when I was a youngin’ that wanted a dog. My mom didn’t like pets, especially canines, because we lived in a condo and pets are disgusting creatures. I couldn’t blame her, but I sure did when I was a kid. I wanted a dog for as long as I could remember and one year, as a gift for my “first communion,” they got me… a long-eared rabbit. I named her Flopsy and she died a few years later, but she sure enjoyed that ’94 Northridge earthquake!

When my mom finally came around, I knew precisely the breed I wanted: a beagle. A great size for us, plus smart, energetic, and trustworthy.

We went to Beagles and Buddies in El Monte, CA because, obviously, beagles were in the name. As a no-kill rescue, all sorts of dogs and cats were running around: old, young, fat, skinny, tall, and short. I still remember a corgi that wouldn’t stop following me wherever I went.

And then I saw her, barreling at me from down the path, knocking me over and licking my face.

I fell in love.

She was probably about a year old at the time and a Bull Mastiff, according to the BnB folks. As an avid dog lover, I knew she wasn’t a Bull Mastiff and if she was, that was way too large for our household. So, I looked up a breed encyclopedia at the bookstore (this is before Wikipedia, everyone, so I understand if you don’t remember these) and there she was, an American Staffordshire Bull Terrier. Or, pit bull.

Suffice it to say, my father and I didn’t mention her breed to my mom, who was already iffy about dogs and would have completely denied Hailey’s adoption in a heartbeat. Once my mother found out, it wasn’t pretty. Her friends and co-workers would tell her horror stories of pit bulls, the news featured any attack dealing with the breed (or Rottweilers and Dobermans), and we didn’t have any clue as to Hailey’s past. I knew the risk was viewed as high and I had to be ready for a dog like her.

I’ll definitely have more to say on that later.

In the meantime, here she is getting a bath.

Hailey finds baths boring.

Now, she’s 10 or 11 years old and doesn’t like when Higgins lays in front of the sliding screen. I don’t know why, but I figure it’s because Higgins thinks Hailey’s tail is a toy.

I’ve lived through her first time alone in the house (piles of poo, anyone?) and the vet visits she absolutely despises. She’s moved with me from my parents’ to Paul’s, through cancer and beyond.


She’s a good friend. A good dog.


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