Recently our family lost our beautiful black Lab/ Retriever mix, Hudson. He was eight years old and the last standing member of the Martel Zoo.
We welcomed Hudson into our family when I was 15 and Zach, my brother, was 13, after my mother refused to get “any other dog that wasn’t exactly like Chase”- our angelic 14 year old Black Lab/ Retriever who was absolutely everything a family pet and guard dog should be. Chase gave Lassie and her multimillion-dollar franchise a run for her money. Not more than a week after that statement was put into the universe did it come back to bite my mother in the ass. We came home with a Black Lab/ Retriever Mix puppy who, for the exception of a white goatee under his chin and white toe fur, was indeed, exactly like Chase.
Hudson came home from the farm as a completely spherical tub of lard, who had not yet lost any of his puppy fuzz. His rolls of adorable baby fat folded over his pink belly and his massive paws seemed to work completely independent from his disproportioned body and made walking a ridiculous and nearly impossible endeavor, for which he always looked so proud of himself. He was homesick right off the bat and mopped for many long days. He watched us cautiously, the 4 new people, 1 new house cat and 1 giant version of himself, Chase, that all seemed to come under his possession much too fast for him to wrap his little head around. I used to put him to bed like a baby. I would tuck a ticking clock under a soft blanket in beside him and pet his ears and hum to him before he would fall asleep. This might seem like a bit much for a dog addition but let me tell you that you would have chew up his food and spoon fed it to him If you thought that’s what he was asking for when he looked up at you afraid and whimpered the most heartbreaking little cry for you when he left him to go to sleep in the dark.
Hudson idolized Chase. It was so charming to watch this pint-sized version of our 110lb monster dog mimic and emulate every single thing Chase did. Hudson would lie the same way Chase would lie, 3 feet behind him no less. He stood when Chase stood and walked like Chase walked- which was awesome because Chase had developed this wild swagger from horrible hip arthritis that the puppy held in his walk until last week. Chase was old, deaf, arthritic and his eye sight wasn’t great either but he trained Hudson on all the ropes of the house. It was peculiar to see Chase take him on a walk around the property line so he knew where he could and couldn’t go. They would pee on each tree simultaneously. Chase, always one tree ahead, would lift his leg and Hudson would squat two trees behind. The entire routine took about 30 minutes and one re-hydration break at the brook. We tried to keep Hudson in a large, luxurious kennel out back during the days while we were at work and school but that worked for about 3 days before he figured out he could jump the 8 foot fence. Chase didn’t need to be put in the kennel, why should he? Dad and Zach put some chicken coop over the top of the kennel so we could be confident that our new puppy would be safe from traffic and the woods out back but still, he met Zach every day at the skateboard ramp in the driveway when he got off the bus from school. We eventually gave up and Hudson was perfectly happy not to have to bother with the petty task of escaping.
Hudson always saw the best in people. He never really had the instinctual protection built in the way Chase did, but it made me appreciate him more. It might have been that Chase was around when we were children and Hudson took us on when we were teenagers or that Chase was around for a few years after we added Hudson to the family so he had no reason to take the Alpha male lead. Whatever it was he had no standards, no preference when it came to people. He approached everyone with the very same gentle, docile warm welcome and stayed quietly by them until they left. I know most people would say that that’s the beauty about dogs. They give unconditional love. But Hudson’s acceptance of everyone was different. His acceptance of me and my brother was different. He was much more neutral in his opinion of you. No judgement. He was less like a protector, although he was cautious in personality, he was more a kid, more one of the guys. He was always so thrilled to be invited along to partake in the indiscretions of our youth. He was so funny when we managed to talk him into things he knew we shouldn’t be doing like late night drives or sneaking bottles of beer into the cornfield. He would hang his head so low and get down to a stalking walk, doing double takes of the front door the entire time he climbed into the back seat of our VW Jetta. Sometimes he would purposely walk along several feet to the left or right of us, and I always knew it was so he could be out of the picture faster if ever mum or dad caught us red handed. He was like a second brother. It was as though there were three of us in the team, rather than just my brother and I. All for one, and one for all. He grew up with us.
Hudson was the last family pet we will ever have, until Zach and I start adding animals to our own homes. I’ve always been appreciative that my parents understood what a crucial part animals were to our childhood and to the development of the adults we are today. We’ve been fortunate to have the means to bring some into our home, and we’ve had animals for as long as I can remember. Literally.
Before I was born my parents had a dog named TJ. Then came me. My First word was “TJ”. Then came Chase. Then came Zach. Zach’s first word(s) were “Shut up Chase.” Then came- 2 cats Buttons and Bows (briefly), then there were a few rabbits, Bugs and Ernie, (in different decades), scattered in there was my fathers love affair with fish and a 30 gallon tank and several hamsters that may or may not still be running around the house. Before Hudson we had a wonderful puppy named River and Paper was my grey Tabby Cat I “found” when I was 12. My mum drew the line at birds and “fuzzy things with scale tails” and no one ever tried to get a snake. There was one solid period of time when we didn’t leave my mother alone with any of the animals because she was going through a rather impatient phase and threatened to put everyone with more than two legs into the old dishwasher she was trying to kill and be done with it all at once.
We got her a new dishwasher real fast.
Animals teach children lessons that can’t otherwise be taught. Each animal had a name, and a personality and we loved each one with equal enthusiasm. Our pets not only gave us a sense of responsibility for and commitment to another life, but they taught us about patience and unconditional love and compassion for other living things. They gave us the opportunity to watch the development of a personality and taught us what it meant to have something trust you so wholly. Our pets helped up cultivate our imaginations and develop curiosity for exploring life and our surroundings. We grew up knowing that there was an effective way to train or to teach without using negative reinforcement or violence and each of our pets groomed us for death and pain. We learned how to respect and treat all animals equally weather it was a house pet, barn animal or some wild creature, the fish or the dog, a pigeon or an endangered species. They all co-exist among us and deserve our respect and appreciation.
Hudson was sick with an enlarged heart which was a condition that didn’t cause him any pain or discomfort but he never had the typical stamina the average 80lb rambunctious puppy would normally be expected to have. Had he been a boy, he would have been on a list for a heart transplant. He eventually dropped to a shockingly emaciated weight and couldn’t breathe in any position other than a standing one, which made sleeping impossible. My parents put his exhausted body to rest the last week of August 2011. The weekend before Hudson died my brother went home to see him and I glad he was there with our buddy. I couldn’t get there to say goodbye.
You were a good boy Hudson. A very good boy.
