2012 was the year that Casey and me moved in together (with my future wife, Stef, as well), and 2013 was the year we truly became a family. Let's just say Casey was very comfortable with this arrangement.
She would often lie in some unusual ways, but this dog knew how to find comfort. As long as she was up on the couch and had at least part of her touching you, she was usually good to go. Sometimes, all it took was a sliver of space before she wedge herself in, and then slowly stretch out until she was fully satisfied with the situation. Luckily, she didn't have to do much work to hang with me here.
Unfortunately, there were times where I wasn't enough for Casey The Dog, and she would just sit on the couch with her head perched on the back, staring out the window, and just waiting for headlights to pull into our driveway so she could greet her Mom. As much as she loved attention from me, she was always looking to be the center of at least two people's attention.
The reason she may have wanted her Mom is because I did get quite a kick out of torturing her.
She also did not like touching things that made unexpected noise when she made contact, so cardboard and styrofoam were a little tricky for her.
Now this one is of her own doing as she would always fling her toys into inconvenient spots and then cry that she couldn't get them. This is really a situation where we were torturing each other as I had to listen to her cry, then she had to have me encourage her to do what, in her mind, basically amounted to a suicide mission. Casey came so close to getting her football, but then when she knocked the styrofoam right over the football, I couldn't help but laugh in her stupid, sweet, beautiful face. In the end, she always got her toy and went right back to being the happiest dog around.
This is more evidence of Casey loving to fling her toys in inconvenient spots. I was always the person to wake up first in the house, so Casey would follow me around because she wanted to be a part of the action. Now some of that action was waste management. So I would casually sit on my throne and read and she would come in, tilt her head up just right and then drop toys into the sink. Then she would get in her waiting location.
She would just lay in the doorway, stare at the sink and cry because she needed help getting her toys. At this house, the sink was not within reach of the toilet, so I would occasionally clench my cheeks and waddle over to help her out so she wouldn't wake up Stef. Once we moved into houses with the sink directly next to the toilet, things got better for everyone.
All this playing paid off as she was a true athlete.
Why get on a couch the traditional way when you can go over the back with ease? This is basically a dog's version of why hit a layup when you can dunk it with authority? Although it blew my mind, she was definitely the guy in the gym that thought everyone could effortlessly dunk.
This meant that I had to test her limits.
Everything so far in this year has been focused on the indoors, but let's not forget how much she loved to get outside and truly let loose. This is her after a long play session at the school nearby where I would launch the ball as far as I could and frolic along with her on sunny days. When I finally told her she had enough (she would never admit this herself), she would then plop down in the nearest shady spot she could find. It was smart in that she found the shade but kind of dumb as had she just been willing to hop in the car, we could have blasted the air and started to really get comfortable.
This picture also reminds me of the time I took her on a five-mile run. Looking back, bad idea on my part. Casey was not great at pacing herself as on walks and runs, she wanted to be the lead dog and go as fast as I would let her. Well, this came to bite her in the ass when we were still a mile away from the house, she decided she had enough. We were on a busy street, but she found a shady grass area near the sidewalk and she just sprawled out and refused to move. I tried everything to motivate her by offering her a treat, food, her ball, go for a walk, go for a run, go for a car ride and finally, after bribing with everything I could think of, I asked if she wanted to go see her Mom, and she pulled herself off the grass and we finished our run, although at a slower pace than the one she set originally.
Basically, as long as she had a willing play buddy, she was always in the mood to go outside. Well, almost always.
Since this was 2013, I'm not totally sure why she was scared but considering I had the camera ready, I clearly knew she was not going to like the idea of going outside. An educated guess makes me believe it was raining outside which was enough to deter her from going outside to go potty, although if I busted out her ball, she would have ran through a tsunami.
Early on, Casey was put in her kennel when we were gone. She was such a spazz that her having a safe space was good to keep her comfortable. In 2013, that started to change. We let her be loose for a couple hours, then a few hours, then gave her a full day, and it turned out that she was comfortable enough to not need it anymore. Still, when she was scared, she would still go back to that safe space, especially if it meant not having to go outside and get wet. It was also pretty funny to see that it took only 10 seconds of laying in a cage to know that she had broken me, and then she was just totally happy with the world again. Again, the dog owned me.
The most important thing that happened this year is that Stef and I got married, fully cementing myself as a part of Casey's life and vice versa (I know this is a picture of my wife's right hand so doesn't really symbolize marriage at all but work with me here). Stef always told people that the only reason we got married was because of Casey The Dog. She may have been exaggerating about it being the only reason, but we both know that we wouldn't be married if Casey wasn't in the picture. Stef said that seeing me with Casey was the first evidence that I could care for something else, and she was right. I put Casey's needs ahead of my own before I put Stef's needs ahead of my own. I basically had the emotional maturity of a 12-year-old. Casey got the ball rolling with my emotional maturity, and that helped Stef mold me into an actual decent person. The greatest thing to happen to me is my relationship with my wife, and it wouldn't have been possible without Casey. She may not have an epic dog story of physically saving my life, but she helped me achieve a better life. I could never truly repay Casey for what she gave me, but I showed her every day how much I loved her, and for Casey, that seemed like enough.
After getting married, it was time for us to get out of Iowa and head to the sunshine state where Casey would meet up with an oldfriend acquaintance/sometimes arch nemesis.
The reason she may have wanted her Mom is because I did get quite a kick out of torturing her.
I'd throw her toy while in the basement, and occasionally it would take a weird bounce and land in the corner where she would really be stuck between a rock and a hard place. In this case, it was her love of playing and her being terrified that golf clubs were going to fall on her. I'm very encouraging to her, but I am also stifling my laughter as she tries to find the perfect angle to get her toy without disturbing anything around the toy. Luckily, after many very close attempts, this story ends in success as she finally does get her tiny blue rubber bone that was definitely not designed for a dog of her size.
She also did not like touching things that made unexpected noise when she made contact, so cardboard and styrofoam were a little tricky for her.
Now this one is of her own doing as she would always fling her toys into inconvenient spots and then cry that she couldn't get them. This is really a situation where we were torturing each other as I had to listen to her cry, then she had to have me encourage her to do what, in her mind, basically amounted to a suicide mission. Casey came so close to getting her football, but then when she knocked the styrofoam right over the football, I couldn't help but laugh in her stupid, sweet, beautiful face. In the end, she always got her toy and went right back to being the happiest dog around.
All this playing paid off as she was a true athlete.
Why get on a couch the traditional way when you can go over the back with ease? This is basically a dog's version of why hit a layup when you can dunk it with authority? Although it blew my mind, she was definitely the guy in the gym that thought everyone could effortlessly dunk.
This meant that I had to test her limits.
As you can tell, I was really rooting for her on this one. She gave it such a great effort, and I think if she would have gone back to the couch trick, she could have had it. Still, this sort of effort got both me and The Ultimate Warrior pumped up about life.
Since Casey and I were a couple of trainwrecks coming together to cause havoc, we spent the majority of our time down in the basement where we had room to roll around, chase toys, and just be free to possibly break things since we didn't keep anything nice down there. We had two games that gained a lot of traction. The first was training for the NFL Draft. I was grooming Casey to be a top defensive end, so I would put her ball behind my back, and I would play offensive tackle while she would have to get around me to get her toy. I outweighed her by around 100 pounds, so I could often bully her, but she knew how to use timing and explosiveness to get past me a lot of times. We had some great battles, and if I could have required all quarterbacks to carry a small squoosh ball in their back pocket, she may have made the league.
The second game was ass over teakettle. This was one that had a long shelf life as this was not just fun for us but a real crowd pleaser anytime we had an audience. I would grab a rope or snake toy, and lay on my back in a reverse turtle position. Casey would grab the rope and start pulling me so hard that I would do a back somersault and go ass over teakettle. I would then start giggling and yelling ass over teakettle repeatedly. It was awesome.
The second game was ass over teakettle. This was one that had a long shelf life as this was not just fun for us but a real crowd pleaser anytime we had an audience. I would grab a rope or snake toy, and lay on my back in a reverse turtle position. Casey would grab the rope and start pulling me so hard that I would do a back somersault and go ass over teakettle. I would then start giggling and yelling ass over teakettle repeatedly. It was awesome.
This picture also reminds me of the time I took her on a five-mile run. Looking back, bad idea on my part. Casey was not great at pacing herself as on walks and runs, she wanted to be the lead dog and go as fast as I would let her. Well, this came to bite her in the ass when we were still a mile away from the house, she decided she had enough. We were on a busy street, but she found a shady grass area near the sidewalk and she just sprawled out and refused to move. I tried everything to motivate her by offering her a treat, food, her ball, go for a walk, go for a run, go for a car ride and finally, after bribing with everything I could think of, I asked if she wanted to go see her Mom, and she pulled herself off the grass and we finished our run, although at a slower pace than the one she set originally.
Basically, as long as she had a willing play buddy, she was always in the mood to go outside. Well, almost always.
Since this was 2013, I'm not totally sure why she was scared but considering I had the camera ready, I clearly knew she was not going to like the idea of going outside. An educated guess makes me believe it was raining outside which was enough to deter her from going outside to go potty, although if I busted out her ball, she would have ran through a tsunami.
Early on, Casey was put in her kennel when we were gone. She was such a spazz that her having a safe space was good to keep her comfortable. In 2013, that started to change. We let her be loose for a couple hours, then a few hours, then gave her a full day, and it turned out that she was comfortable enough to not need it anymore. Still, when she was scared, she would still go back to that safe space, especially if it meant not having to go outside and get wet. It was also pretty funny to see that it took only 10 seconds of laying in a cage to know that she had broken me, and then she was just totally happy with the world again. Again, the dog owned me.
After getting married, it was time for us to get out of Iowa and head to the sunshine state where Casey would meet up with an old
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