Every little kid wants a pet, right? I wanted a dog more than anything in the world. Sometime in 1996 my mother, armed with her parenting magazines, came up with a plan. She had read about using a point system instead of an allowance, and this method was implemented in our house. My brother and I were to earn points for doing certain chores around the house: emptying the dishwasher, taking out the trash, mowing the yard, etc. Then a rewards chart was set up with things that every kid loves, 20 or so points for a trip to the movies, 100 points to have a friend stay over, etc. But the ultimate goal for me was established at 2,000 points. I could get a dog. That’s right. I had to unload that damned dishwasher 2,000 times. And I did it, I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t think I’d make it. It took me about 6 months, and I don’t think my parents have ever had it easier because every time they turned around I would be asking for something to do so I could earn those points. I even had one of those thermometer things on my door where I filled in the points I had earned up to my ultimate goal.
By June I had reached my goal of 2,000 points and began the search for my dog. I wanted a Labrador retriever. I did my research; we bought the proper equipment, built a pen in the backyard. I scoured the classifieds looking for puppies that were for sale. I finally found one near Sherman, my father and I got in the car and drove out to the place. There were only two puppies left, both of them black and both of them male. I knelt down in the middle of the room where the puppies where and one of them ran up to me. I took him into my arms, looked at my dad and told him “I want this one.” He wasn’t perfect according to AKC standards: he had a white star on his chest and a little bit of white on one of his paws, but he was perfect for me.
At the time I was very into the tv cartoon Jonny Quest and decided to name him Quest. According to the AKC naming nomenclature, he was to have three names, the second of which was Midnight, mostly because he was black but it turned out a bit ironic because we spent many nights chasing after our Midnight Quest.
Quest’s first public appearance as a member of the family was the same day. My brother had a baseball game, and dad and I drove out to it. I sat in the dirt and played with my new puppy while my brother played his game. He eventually made it home and was introduced to his new environment. Despite mother’s wishes, he was as much of an inside dog as he was an outside dog. He’d be outside during the day when no one was home, but as soon as I got home, he was let in the house. He slept in the laundry room while he was still a puppy, but spent the rest of the nights outside except when it was cold. He sure liked to bark.
He spent his first (and only) Christmas at my mom’s parent’s house because we went up to Indiana to spend time with my father’s side of the family. He grew into a beautiful dog. A bit skinny and rebellious but he was my best friend. We’d wrestle, I’d fall asleep with my head on his stomach, he’d lick my tears when I cried, and we’d have heart to hearts. He was a good listener.
I can remember the night of his death like it was yesterday. I was in 8th grade, it was the night of the Colonial Festival at school and I had an appointment to get my hair cut after school. Mom picked me up from my hair cut and told me the news; Sarah McLachlan’s “Arms of the Angel” was playing on the radio. I didn’t believe her when she first told me. How could my dog be dead? He was less than 2 years old and in perfect health.
We kept him in a pen in the back corner of the backyard so he’d have plenty of room to run around. He just had this bad habit of digging under the fence and escaping so we also kept him on a chain. He had gotten a little over zealous and decided to scale the fence, in the process hanging himself. When mom and I got home, his body was wrapped in a burlap sack and sitting in a wheel barrow in the backyard. Our neighbor and my brother had taken him down and placed him there. There was no real time for it to hit me, I had to get inside and get ready for the Colonial festival at school: I was to play the piccolo in Yankee Doodle, I was part of the Colonial band, I was the narrator in the play and I was in the fan language act.
I was a wreck.
When the festival was over, and we finally got back home, we held a service for Quest in the back yard. My mom’s parents came over and we placed him in the ground next to Sabrina my guinea pig along with a few of his favorite toys. I went to school the next day, but spent most of it crying. It was a big deal to me. Most kids don’t have to deal with things like this with a pet they’d only had for such a short time. If he were still alive today, I’m sure he’d be living with me at the BBP.
To this day, nine years later, I still go out and speak to him on occasion.