Frankie Baxter: 1997-2009

She was 8 weeks when I got her from a litter of a friend. Her brothers and sisters were either black or tan. Well before the adoption, my friend assured me that the puppies were pure black lab. As she grew, she looked less lab-like—something I often mentioned to the mother’s owner. Over the course of 6 months, his story evolved from pure lab to “I saw a lab-like dog in the neighborhood, so I figured he was the dad.” Frankie was more chow than anything, with black spots on her tongue and a whole lot of skin.

One of her brothers was adopted by my roommate and named Duncan. Duncan was eventually given to the roommate’s girlfriend, initiating a pattern that happened often: he gives her a dog, and shortly thereafter leaves her. Until then, Frankie, Duncan and I were together a lot. But it was Frankie that I allowed in bed, took to the coast and went hiking with.

After she was beyond puppy-dome, I decided she needed to spend more time outside. That’s normal and acceptable, sure, but I also insisted she stay out at night. I put her food, water and bed outside. But what I didn’t know, and what she couldn’t tell me, was a) racoons would bully her for food, b) the neighborhood kids would taunt her on their way home from school, and c) the backyard consisted of nature’s hazards: termites, ticks and spiders; and man’s refuse: rusty nails, rotten lumber and a broken trailer. (The house’s owner left monuments to his neglect. The backyard’s was a ghetto playset made of splintered plywood, mangey astroturf and razor-sharp brackets, all carefully balanced on an immense, immovable PVC pipe.)

Eventually she came back inside, but not without her well-being sufficiently bruised. Actually, we couldn’t keep her out. The back door not only wouldn’t lock, it wouldn’t latch, so we placed a 50lb weight at its foot. At first, Frankie couldn’t budge it, but as she grew, she was eventually able to move it. We added more weight incrementally until it totaled 100lbs, but this only made her stronger. So the choice was let Frankie in or fix the door. It was a rental anyway.

When I was at work, I would pay my friend Shane a pack of cigarettes to walk Frankie and Duncan. Actually, I would give him cigarette money and he would walk them to the store and back. The house stableized and the consistent family became me, Frankie, Mac (her brother from a different mother/species), Julio, Dave, and the miscellaneous reptiles they kept.

During winter she endured coats and sweaters. (This is just before the doggie-accessory industry took off. All clothing was from the children’s department.) During summer she endured long journeys to the coast. On Halloween she endured costumes. She was raised with a cat as an older brother. When he passed she missed him, but when a litter of kittens appeared on our doorstep, she helped raise them.

Eventually Frankie went to live with my parents. She had a new pack and a pool. She got all the emotional, and medical, attention she needed. By the next year, she was on a regular regimine of pills for low-thyroid, shots for allergies and french fries for looking worried.

Born November 18, 1997, Frankie was put to sleep October 16, 2009. She lived a full life and will be missed greatly.

Oct 18, 2009