The Story of Id (a human spirit in a dogs body)
First let me preface this with a statement that this could never happen in my life again. I would never allow any of my fur baby’s to run loose and do the things that Id did. In retrospect I would have neutered him and kept closer watch on his behavior. he was a free spirit that was just wht we both needed in our lives at the time. Things were different in the early 70s.
I first met Id on a hot and sweltering summer day. It was in a sleepy Florida town called Plant City. I was returning to work at the mobile home manufacturing plant. Most everyone in town was connected in some way to this industry. Along the way I noticed a strange animal staggering through a large empty field. He had spindle-like legs that looked scarcely able to support his gangly torso. His ears were reminiscent of two giant eagle feathers protruding from the head of a small child playing an Indian. At first I had no intention of stopping. Then it happened. The soft spot in my heart moved ever so quickly to become the soft spot in my head. I stopped my car and went to the aid of this woebegone creature. He was an abysmal mess and a very sick pup. He could hardly stand without falling. His large brown pleading eyes flickered back and forth like some spastic mechanical toy. I picked him up and placed his pitiful form in my car. I returned to work without the slightest idea of what to do with this genetic mutant.
The day continued as usual except my co-workers all had to voice their expert medical opinions on “my dog”. The poor animal lay twitching in a cardboard box. I just knew he was dying. The day came to a
n end as any Friday normally would, everyone rushing out to start their weekend. Except me, I was left to care for my canine friend in-a-box. Not knowing what else to do I took this doleful creature to the nearest vet. I wanted to end this suffering. Euthanasia seemed the only way out. I arrived at the vets and was taken immediately. I explained to the Doctor my short relationship to the patient, and asked for his opinion. He informed me that this animal was suffering from a severe concussion and it was doubtful he would make it through the night but please call in the morning on the outside chance that he does. No charge for the visit either. I left in a sad state of mind, my heart heavy. I hated to see anything die.
I awoke the next morning to a gentle rain dancing on the tin roof of the small rustic cabin I called home. The air was light and fresh as if it were new air pumped in from some mystical place far off in the heavens. My thoughts changed from my surroundings to the events of the preceding day. I wondered if my sick friend had made it through the night. I called the vets and was told that the dog had made it, what time would I be picking him up they asked. “What time would I be picking him up?” was my silent response. I really hadn’t given much thought to what I would do if this lost soul was to survive just figured since the vet had him he was the vet’s responsibility. This was not the case. The vet called an hour after I had called to make sure I would be there before they closed at noon. I assured them I would. I dressed in a daze wondering what to do with not just a dog but a recovering accident victim. I drove the 15 miles to town, parked, and went in to claim my prize. The good doctor informed me that even though my friend had survived the concussion he had lost the use of his hind legs, possibly for good. As I carried this canine paraplegic to my car I kept asking myself why I am doing this? I would never know why except to say this animal was one of the most colorful creatures I’d had the pleasure to know.
The next six months were less than enjoyable. I watched as this cripple drug his hind legs around my kitchen with me cleaning up behind (literally). All during this period of doggy defecation the critter would talk to me. Not real words or sentences, but a drawn out moan and groan that did more than just border the edge of a universal language. He reminded me somehow of a reincarnated politician. He could speak with such sincere conviction but still leave you wondering what you had just been convinced of. It was during this time that I developed an ever increasing affection for him and decided to label him ID.
Months had passed and Id had begun to gain the use of his back legs, nothing short of a miracle was this blessed creature. While still wobbly his legs were nonetheless functional and he was recovering. Soon after our sixth month together it became necessary for us to move. I rented a small three bedroom house in a small town family oriented neighborhood. A place we were unaccustomed to, having lived far into the seclusion of the country in a little ol’cabin. I would go to work each day leaving Id to mind the house.
We were at this whistle stop in life only two months when a better offer came up and I decided to move again. I had not gotten to know any of the neighbors personally but on the day I was loading the trailer several people from three separate households came over to say good-bye to Id. All three had their own name for my dog. It seems that Id had wasted no time in filling in for my lack of social graces during the past two months. The story that unfolded was quite remarkable. On the nights that I had allowed Id to go out he didn’t just go out. What he did was go to each and every neighbors house, bark at the front door until he was either run off or let into the house. Now you probably wonder why anyone in their right mind would allow a strange dog into their home. Well not only was Id blessed with the gift of gab but he could look at you with eyes that showed a starvation that went beyond a missed meal or two; starvation that went to the soul, yours and his. No compassionate human being could turn down this spectral stare. Hooked by his demeanor these people let him into their homes where he would immediately rush to the kitchen and stare longingly at their refrigerator until fed. After a meal well deserved for his effort Id would retire to the family sitting area to become the center of attention. Some nights he would visit as many as three homes and I was not the least bit aware of his escapades. All I did notice was his loss of appetite. I thanked my neighbors for their enduring hospitality and apologized for any and all problems my furry friend may have caused. They all said he was no problem and they would miss him terribly, especially the children, two of whom were crying because he was leaving. What was this we had only been here a short time? I knew none of these people but my dog was getting a bon-voyage party lacking only a brass band. At this point a band wouldn’t surprise me. During all this Id seemed to take it in a casual manner with little thought to the hearts he was breaking.
I later learned that it wasn’t lack of concern on his part. Id lived for the moment and the moment said it was time to move again. That meant time for a nice ride in the car. Next to eating there was nothing better than a ride in the car. He never cared where he was going just as long as he was going. The neighbors all left and long before I could finish loading the trailer Id was settled into the seat of the car, looking worried he’d be left behind. I finished the loading and we were on our way.
BUILDING CHARACTER
We arrived in Gainesville without incident and within a week began to settle in. We spent nearly a year in this particular house and all seemed normal during that time except the last four months Id would be gone three to four days and nights a week. Just about the time I would begin to worry he would show up happy and healthy so I didn’t get that concerned.
We moved to a larger home that I bought and Id stopped his vanishing act. One day we went back to the old house to visit and I noticed 
that someone had cut down the eight foot hedge that separated the rear neighbors yard from ours, again I never knew who lived behind us. Guess who did? I was about to leave but couldn’t find Id. I whistled and called. Finally I saw him in the yard behind where the hedge had been. I continued to call and he came running. There was a man in the yard behind me calling someone named Henry and the closer Id got to me the louder this persons calling became. As Id came to me I heard this stranger yelling “Hey! What are you doing with my dog?” Since there was no one else around I concluded he must be talking to me. But I don’t have his dog. DO I? And so another story unfolds before my eyes. It turns out that Id had carried his last exploits one step farther. Id had been leading a double life. He would spend 3 days with the neighbors on the other side of the hedge and then spend the rest with us. I think he just wanted to spread the love. Needless to say again Id was the source of a good laugh and an even better story.
There was one other incident at this house worth mentioning. A very small Chihuahua lived a few houses away. This little dog happened to be a female weighing in at about 2 pounds. Id weighed over 65 pounds. One day the friendly Mexican midget came into heat. Well Id, for three days and nights made a total fool of himself by staying outside of the house of this hot tamale. He not only stayed outside 24 hours a day without eating, he howled as if in some relentless agonizing pain. This in itself would not be embarrassing, except this was the early seventies, and people in this college town had a passion for the weird and strange. These people from the neighborhood would gather, watch and laugh hysterically as this love sick giant would swoon and howl over this tiny creature. It was the opposite of this paradox “like a flea crawling up the back side of an elephant with intentions of rape on his mind”. It just wouldn’t work, EVER.
Id had this incredible fighting instinct and would take on any dog, the bigger the better. He loved people but hated other male dogs, so much in fact that I always hesitated to take him anywhere. Not too far from us was an old sand pit where everyone would go to swim. I decided to take my inestimable rogue for a fun day at the beach. We loaded into the car and headed for the pit. The first hour past without incident. Then all of a sudden Id takes off after this gigantic savage looking Doberman nearly twice his size. He came within five feet of this huge creature and lunged with such ferocity that everyone stopped what they were doing to watch these canine titans do battle. Actually everyone was too darn scared to try to break them up. I just said that everyone stopped to watch. That’s not exactly true. There was this one lovely, unsuspecting young lady who had fallen asleep while sunbathing. She was lying on her stomach with her bathing suit top untied. As you probably have guessed the two rumbling, snarling, growling, snapping, rolling marauders rolled down the embankment going directly over this poor snoozing beauty. She was caught by such ghastly terror that she forgot all about her top. She jumped up, screamed and began to run away from where she had been lying suddenly realizing she was half naked and was being admired by most of the male pit population. Id won the fight and the admiration of the male population at the pit. We went home. I vowed never to take him anywhere again.
After moving to our next home in the country I acquired another dog. She was a large shepherd mix and very intelligent. I was about to leave Florida for the summer and would only be able to take one dog with me. I had decided to take the shepherd with me since she was young and had great potential. Question now was what to do with ole Id. This very nice lady friend of mine was very fond of Id “the independent” and was more than happy to take Id for good or just the summer. I figured this was great and left for the Jersey Shore.
Two and a half months later I returned home. The day after I arrived my friend called with some bad news regarding Id. It seems that my friend who lived some 15 miles away had taken Id home where he remained quite content for about two weeks. Then he just disappeared. I was sad but Id was living on borrowed time anyway. Three weeks passed after arriving back home and on this great Florida morning I pulled into my drive and noticed a black dog on my porch. It was Id! Where he had come from I didn’t know or care, I was glad to see him. He was so glad to be home that he talked for 45 minutes straight. Things quieted down for the next two weeks.
Then one beautiful Sunday afternoon four friends and I were sitting comfortably in the front yard when all of a sudden this old station wagon comes flying up my drive, throwing dust everywhere. Inside the car two people, a heavy blond woman and her teenage daughter. The blond woman stopped the car and jumped out pointing her finger at Id while yelling “That’s him . That’s the dog that wandered up to my house a few months ago, and I felt so sorry for him and the way he looked at me that I just had to take him in.” Id had become a member of the family.
“Why do you seem so angry?” I asked. It seems that Id , in his quest for never ending pleasure, had done what no other dog could accomplish. The woman had three pedigree German Shepherds, two males and one female. The female came into heat and was separated from the others by means of a completely enclosed dog pen. Somehow Id had managed to overcome this obstacle and was now the father of twelve bouncing baby puppies. I informed the lady that Id was presently unemployed and could not possibly support such a family. Now she could see the humor in all of this and everyone had a good laugh.
By the laws of nature this story should be over. One dog cannot produce so much mayhem in only a lifetime, but he did and that’s not all. Id as I said earlier was a favorite with most people especially the ladies. So much in fact that one of these fine ladies felt so much compassion for Id that she knitted him a warm sweater so that he could endure the bitter cold winters Florida is so well known for. As ridiculous as a sweater sounded to me I allowed Id to wear it. I did not want to hurt anyone’s feelings and Id seemed rather proud of his newest acquisition, something else that proclaimed him as king of the hill. This seemingly innocent article of canine irregularity became more of a problem than I could have imagined. We still lived in the same house as the last little episode with the puppies. The only difference being the addition of two roommates each one having a dog of their own. These additional dogs brought the household dog count up to four. Add to this two neighborhood dogs and we had a pack. I never looked at this group as such because they would just hang out at home digging holes to nowhere in the yard.
One fine afternoon as I arrived home I noticed a very large figure standing next to a large motorcycle in my driveway. I parked my car and walked up to this towering stranger, who I could now see was about 6’6″ tall, 280 pounds, and so ugly he would scare a hungry bull dog off the back of a meat truck. I also noticed that he was a Seminole Indian. As I came within earshot he stood erect and said “I’m gonna kil yer dawg”. Not wanting to provoke an insurgency of Indians I immediately concealed my anger and frustration at being put on the defensive by a total stranger. I was also very attached to my own teeth and I had grown accustomed to having my bones intact. I responded as intelligently as possible “Why?”.
The Indian leviathan related this, “Yer dawg has bin leedin dis here pack au dawgs n they bin runnin my cattle tryn to killem.”. Id and the gang were nowhere in sight and I doubted they were involved in such savage aggression. “How do you know my dog is the guilty one” I said with confidence. “Cuz hez blak” responded the giant. Feeling more confident by the second I countered “there must be dozens of black dogs in the area that are capable of this terrible deed. How can you be so sure MY dog is the one?” Just as the last words of that sentence rolled off my tongue Id and his buddies came tearing around the corner of the house. The Indian spotted the troupe and excitedly proclaimed “Cuz hez werin a red sweater too”. Much as I hated to admit it he had eliminated any possibility of mistaken identity. I then proceeded to apologize for any inconvenience my “Leader of the Pack” may have caused him. I gave him my solemn promise 
that this problem would never occur again. We parted on peaceful terms.
About a month later I came home to find my house had been broken into. Id being the good
watch-dog that he was had done just that watched. Had he been able I’m sure he would have
fixed them a cup of coffee. I called the police and soon two officers arrived in a squad car. While the officers were taking my statement Id had gotten into the patrol car through a door that was left open. He jumped over the front seat and laid down on the floor in the back. The officers returned to their car and left. They didn’t notice him for several miles and only then because they heard heavy breathing. Id managed to scare the living daylights out of them. The officers had to turn around and return to my crime scene, come to my door and ask if I wouldn’t mind getting my dog out of the police car. They were good natured and left laughing. I told you earlier that Id loved riding in a car second only to eating.
Soon after this my shepherd became ill and had to be put to sleep. I sold my house and Id and I moved to New Jersey. We settled into a winter rental on the Jersey Shore, Id, me and my brother Ted. This was the upper half of a duplex and during the winter months most of the Jersey Shore is deserted. I could not foresee any problems for awhile.
Every night I would allow Id to go out on his own since the neighborhood was practically uninhabited. He would return each night and all seemed fine. There was only one thing that bothered me. Id refused to eat his food and was gaining weight rapidly. He was also very anxious to go out at night. I just knew he was up to his old tricks again. One bitter cold night while Ted and I watched television Id returned. As Id walked past the television Ted noticed something on Id’s collar. I grabbed him and pulled off a note that was tied to him. The note read “HI your dog came to dinner again tonight we wish you two would”. It was signed with the names of five girls. Doggy Grams, could I ever get accustomed to this. Since we really had no idea where we were to go to dinner we patiently waited until the next night when I attached a return doggy gram accepting the invitation asking for a phone number to set the time and place. I then released this four legged cupid, this canine messenger of love into the night. He returned 3 hours later with a phone number. Ted and I managed several dinners and a couple dates as a result of very little effort. Of course Id attended each dinner and none of the dates.
Three years and two more moves (finally settling back in Florida) Id was showing signs of his twelve inspiring years. He had developed arthritis problems and could not move around very well. One night he was gone longer than normal and I had a strange feeling. I went looking and found him dead in a ditch, apparently the victim of a fast moving car. Even in death Id still managed to touch my heart and my sense of humor. You see I used to jokingly say to him that when he died I would stuff him and put him on rollers so he could still be with me. Well wouldn’t you know it, Id died and was stiff as a board when I found him. His legs were straight out, ready for those wheels.
I loved Id dearly and miss him a great deal and so do all the people who came into his life. I have more cherished memories and fond stories of him than any person place or thing.
What a guy, Thanks Id for the memories and the love.