Gunther and me

My husband Logan and I take our 10-year-old Jack Russell Terrier everywhere. He has been to more states than most 10-year-old children.

Gunther goes with us on road trips to see concerts, on family vacations, and as strange as it sounds we even took him with us to Leadville, Colo. for our honeymoon. Gunther loves Colorado and when Logan planned the trip to stay in a cabin in the mountains it was just too hard to leave him behind. And I worried he might bite my
cousin who graciously offered to house sit.

Oh, yeah, Gunther isn’t the sweet cuddly little dog you may have pictured. He’s a feisty little biter. Piss him off and there will be consequences.

When Logan was in college he thought it would be cool to buy a little dog that could live with him in his apartment. He drove to a small town in Missouri to purchase little Gunther, the runt of the litter. But once they got home Gunther became the king dog of every place Logan lived. Through 7 years of schooling, Logan had several roommates.

All of these roommates have stories about Gunther. Along with being a biter, in his defense I’ll say he’s more of a nipper, Gunth also makes statements with his poop. Make him mad and he will poop on your bed. This happened to multiple roommates. Not surprisingly, Logan moved back home to live with his mom the last year of pharmacy school. While he never pooped on my mother-in-law’s bed, Gunther’s ankle biting did ruin several pairs of business pants, which she holds against the dog to this day.

When Logan and I met, Gunther had just been diagnosed with diabetes. We believe it is type 2, since he had been living on a college student’s diet for the first six years of his life. I still remember the first time I came to Logan’s house. (He no longer had roommates. Gunther had officially scared them all away.)

“He’s so cute,” I said as I bent down to pet him.

Gunther looked sweet and passive, he was clearly still in recovery from his in-patient stay at the vet.

“Oh, you’ll think otherwise soon,” Logan said with a laugh.

I wondered what he meant by that. I found out the first time Logan cooked me dinner. Gunther barked for the duration of the cooking and eating of the meal.

Because of Gunther’s diabetes, Logan and I both assumed the little guy would die before we ever would move in together or get married.

Gunter proved to be a fighter. It seems that nothing can kill him. In the last four years he’s survived diabetes, pancreatitis, kidney stones, and a 15-foot drop off the balcony at the Super 8 motel in Goodland, Kan. (That story could be a blog in its self).

Gunther had issues with me when the three of us moved into a house together after Logan and I got engaged. Apparently, Gunther didn’t want a new house or a step mom.

We give Gunther insulin shots twice a day. A couple weeks after we moved in Gunther bit my hand after I gave him a shot. The bite left teeth marks and a throbbing pain in my tendons. I cried in the pantry for five minutes before I headed to work.

Once, when Logan and I invited a couple and their newborn baby over, Gunther didn’t like the attention that Logan gave the baby. And to this day, I believe Gunther blamed me. The next morning I slipped on a pile of poop Gunther had left on the floor by my side of the bed.

But for all his faults, Gunther has become my little buddy these past six months. When I got laid off from my job at the Kansas City Nursing News, Gunther sensed my pain. He would cuddle up with me, lick my arm and let me know is his doggy way that everything would be okay.

Last week, when Logan and I headed out for a get-a-away to warmer weather we decided to leave Gunther at the vet. This was the first time we have ever boarded him and the decision was heavy on our hearts.

I bought new toys for Gunther to take on his “trip” and since I worried he might not eat as well without us, I actually browned a pound of lean hamburger meat to send with his dog food. As I cooked the meat, I realized this was probably the equivalent of a mother who peels her third-graders grapes before she pack her kid’s lunch. But knowing my behavior is slightly neurotic, makes it somewhat okay, at least in my mind.

All the way to the vet, I kept thinking about all the people who would say it’s always harder on the owners than the pets when it comes to dropping them off to board for the first time. Well, I don’t believe that’s true. If I did I wouldn’t feel so bad. I mean, Logan and I will be relaxing on vacation, while poor Gunther will be at the vet.
When we finally left vet, Logan and I both turned to watch Gunther walk through the door, he pranced through like a champ. Way too proud to show fear, if indeed he had any.

Logan and I held each other’s hand as we walked to the car and I realized at that moment that sometime in the last six months Gunther had went from being Logan’s dog, to our dog. We are a happy family of three, feistiness and all.