This picture is of a dog named Bonehead. He was not my dog. He was my neighbors dog. I remember the first day my neighbor brought him home. It was in the summer of 1987 or 1988....I was around the age of 10 -11 years old. I remember being outside and looking down our driveway and seeing a yellow little animal running wildly all over my neighbors yard. I was curious and had to check out what was going on. I walked to my neighbors yard and saw the cutest little puppy running everywhere. My memory fades in and out of everything that took place, but I do remember I asked my neighbor what the puppy's name was. He said "Bonehead" cause his head looked like a huge bone. I actually didn't care for the name of this cute yellow dog. Being 10 years old I thought it was totally "not cool" calling him "Bonehead", but that's what they named him. From that moment I first met Bonehead I fell in love with dogs. The thing is, he did more than make me fall in love, he was with me throughout my childhood. I just know he was sent down to earth at that moment to help me.
It was year of 1983. I was 6 years old. Just a little thing. I have a sister and she was 5. We lived in the country. I lived in a trailer with my mom, dad and sister. Down a long dirt driveway was another trailer. That's where my grandma and granddaddy lived. I remember my dad teaching me how to ride my bike down that driveway. I can still see him pushing me and I start peddling and keep falling over. My daddy would never get mad. He would pick me up, put me back on and push me. I didn't have knee pads or a helmet on. This was 1983...safety was not an issue on a dirt driveway! I finally learned how to ride my bike to grandmas house all thanks to my daddy. My mom and dad were our heros. I remember my mom teaching my sister and I how to write our names. We were sitting at the kitchen table one day and my mom leaning over me teaching me how to write "Regina". My dad was on the other side helping my sister write her name. I just remember feeling happy and safe. So excited my mom was teaching me how to write my name and my daddy too. Those are about the only 2 memories that have lasted with me. Something happened that year of 1983. Something that blocked out my entire memory. I have bits and pieces from the age of 6 to about the age of 10-11. I start to have memories again about the time I met Bonehead. I just know he was sent down to help me get through my childhood.
Again, there are bits and pieces to this. You will understand why very soon. I remember that my mom went out to get ice cream. I was sitting on our couch with my sister waiting...goodness...would my mom hurry up?? I wasn't good at reading time (I was 6) but I recall just watching the clock. I have no idea how it happened but the next thing I remember was waking up at my grandma's and granddaddy's house. It was morning. Everything was hush hush...but being a kid we still are aware that something is "off". I don't how I found out, but I heard my mom was involved in a car accident on our street. About 1 mile and 1/2 from home. It was bad. She was thrown out of the car. A helicopter had to pick her up and she was in the hospital. I don't remember visiting her in the hospital. I was told my mom was paralyzed from the neck down. I don't remember having any emotions to that. Maybe it was my age. 6 years old we don't understand much. I do know my daddy still loved her. When she came home, I think it was weeks later, I remember looking out my window. He had her laying in a beach chair. He had her head in his hands and he was washing her hair with the garden hose..you have no idea how that one moment has played through my mind. He loved her. Loved her enough to figure out a way to wash her hair. He was still making her feel loved. The warm summer air, sun was shining and my daddy still trying to make all this work. That's it....more black out...
A couple of months after my moms car accident. 6 days before my daddy's 28th birthday he had a heart attack in his sleep and died. October 2nd, 1983. My daddy died. I have one memory of the day I found out. Luckily, I spent the night at my grandmas house. I was in the bathtub, it was morning I was still 6. She came in the bathroom crying and crying. I asked her what was wrong. She only said something happened to daddy. Now my sister, she was not the lucky one. She, at the age of 5, was the one who found our daddy. She stayed with our parents that night. My dad slept in the tv room where my moms hospital bed was. He slept on the floor next to her bed. My sister woke up. My mom told my sister to wake up daddy. My mom couldn't because she was paralyzed for the rest of her life. My sister went over to wake up my daddy and told our mom "Daddy was cold".....no memories...I can't give you any details about from that moment on. Again, bits and pieces.
Go forward 1 year and 7 months later...I remember being at a kids birthday party. I remember being in a dress running around, I was 8 years old. My sister was 7. My aunt (my moms sister) calls my sister and I in. She sits us on the couch and told us our mom had died. She died from an pneumonia. Her iummne system was weak. She got sick and couldn't fight it and my mom died. She died on June 13, 1985. I did not attend either of my parents funeral. Like I have said, I have blocked out years of my childhood. For some reason, I have no memories. The ones I do have between the moment my daddy died to my mom died and probably about 2 years after her death I just can't talk about. I do have some memories. Very, very few. Probably two memories I have. Those two memories are not good. Ones I still cannot shake from my mind, but glad that's it. I can't imagine what life I would have now if I did remember all details of the death of my two parents.
I remember that day just as clear as yesterday. The day I met Bonehead. It was a little over two years after my mom died. I was around the age of 10 or 11. This is when I can tell you for sure my entire childhood. The thing is, he was not my dog. He was my neighbors dog. After a couple of weeks, I could tell Bonehead was not as much fun anymore to my neighbors. They were an older couple. They had no young children and they were now the tenants to the trailer I had lived at with my mom and daddy. My grandmother ( my dads mom) got custody of my sister and I. We didn't move. My sister and I moved in down the dirt driveway. Everyday, I would wake up and could see the trailer my daddy died in. The place we called our home. Now new people lived in there. The thing is, I didn't mind it. For some reason, I had never had an issue that I had to live in the same place. Same dirt driveway my daddy taught me to ride my bike down. It didn't bother me that 1 1/2 miles down the road was the place that my mom got into her accident. It didn't bother me that 1/2 mile down the road was were they were buried. I lived in this circle my entire childhood and not ever shed a tear. Maybe it would have effected me differently, if not for meeting Bonehead.
For a couple of weeks I watched Bonehead. The only thing I saw that was happening was with each day, less and less time was being spent with him. This was the late 80's. This was the time that chaining your dog to the doghouse outside was ok. I would come out in the morning and Bonehead would be barking and barking. Trying to get off his chain. This was when I started to feel sad. Sad that this beautiful yellow doggie wanted to play. The only time he was off his chain was when my neighbor got off from work. He would get out of his truck walk over to Bonehead and let him off. Guess what Bonehead did? He ran everytime down the driveway straight for me. He didn't greet him. He darted off..running with his tongue hanging all out straight to my yard. My neighbor didn't mind. I was a kid. Happy to be playing with the awesome dog. Everyday I couldn't wait for my neighbor to come home from work. It became a schedule. Something I looked forward too, and Bonehead too. We both needed each other, I had no idea. I do now, at being the ripe age of 35. It has sunk in. Bonehead was sent down from my parents to take care of me. They knew I needed him.
As time went on. I was free to run over during the day and get Bones off his chain. As soon as I would wake up, if it was in the summer, I would run straight over and get him. We would spend all day together. I mean, all day. My sister and I would run through the woods (again..it was ok in the early 90's to play outside all day and not be bothered!) we lived outside. Loved it. He was always with us. The only time he would not be with us was at night and he would have to go home. I cried at night when he wasn't with me. I hated it. I felt sorry for him. In the winter he had no hay in his doghouse. I knew while I was in bed, all warm he was shivering in his doghouse. I knew what got him through a lot of his nights was probably knowing, no matter how cold it was, the next morning I would be over to get him. Take him off the chain and run him to our place. My daddy before he died had built some sort of garage to work on cars. It was empty after his death. So my sister and I huddled in there in the winter, with Bones. I felt like I was saving him from a horrible life living on a chain. I couldn't stand it. I begged my grandma many times if I could ask my neighbors if I could have Bonehead. She always said he was ok. That I had him a lot. He was "just a dog." I would beg to differ. He was my best friend. I loved that dog. In the summer, I would feel so bad for him. It was hot. I was hot, but I stayed right by his side. I would take the hose and spray him down. Keep him cool. I took care of him. The only thing I didn't do was feed him. My neighbors did that. I bathed him, I got him new collars when his got old, I got flea control for him. I remember the day Bonehead was covered in fleas and bleeding from all the bites. I was begging my grandmother to buy me "flea stuff". I cried..I never gave any emotion to my parents death, but I had a lot of emotion for this dog. She finally broke down and took me and we bought flea control for Bonehead. From that day on Bonehead never had another flea on him. There were days where we did nothing, there were days that I would walk him to where my parents were buried and we just sat there. Not thinking anything. Just there....
16 years old I was..Grandma got me a car. Bonehead was in my car. I would take him to the Beach. Let him run...run...and run...it was great. He went everywhere I went. It was still a schedule with him. If he was tied to his doghouse he was always watching in the direction of my place. I would walk past our window and see him waiting for me. Of course, I would run to get him. He got so comfortable with this schedule. I would go inside and we would lay on the front steps, sometimes hours. He stayed loyal to me. Always wanted to be near me and I near him. Even when I started dating, I would have to bring Bones over to meet them. Sometimes he went on dates with me. :)
This is favorite picture I have of him. He was yellow, he was beautiful, he was my best friend. He was a gift from my parents. They knew I needed him. He showed me love. He was faithful, he was loyal. He got a child who lost both her parents through her childhood. He gave her a good one. He saved her and she saved him. I had a hard time when I started to date my future husband. Bonehead saw me starting to stay out later and later. I was now around 19. I had a job and was soon to be engaged and not coming over to get him as much. I felt so guilty. I loved him so much. I wanted to take him with me when I got married. I couldn't do it. He still wasnt my dog. In every sense of the word, he was. Bones was mine. I had to let him go. He had to let me go. At 21 I got married. I left home. I can't tell you when Bonehead died. I never wanted to know. He was here for a purpose and that was to show me life was to go on. He showed me a wonderful happy childhood. I can't imagine how my childhood would of been if my mom and dad didn't send Bonehead to me from heaven.
Fast forward....13 years later. I have had some dogs through all this time. I loved them all. They all have a special place in my heart. Then there's Hurley. If you have been following my story about Hurley I think you are now understanding my depth of love here. The moment I met Hurley something very familiar started to happen. I felt that strong connection. The connection I felt with Bonehead. It's not the breed, cause they are not the same. I can't describe it. I feel sometimes it's Bonehead all over again. When Hurley got those cysts on his head I was devasted. A lot of people probably thought I was nuts for fighting like I have been for him. Asking for help anything to help get these cysts off his head. Getting upset over a "bump" that fills up and I start freaking out. The thing is I was a child that had lost two parents very young. It was a dog that got me through that time. I was attached to this animal. The love of a dog is amazing. It can heal a child from the death of her parents. Then 13 years later Hurley comes into my life...I get attached...now this animal needs me. He was sent here for me to help him.. to fight for him. This is why I have been fighting so hard. There has been an amazing story behind all this. You have helped a young girl who lost who parents at a very young age. Dogs will always be very important to me, because of what Bonehead did. When I needed help this time, you all surrounded me not knowing my story. I feel like if something happened or happens to Hurley I would be devasted. Not knowing how to handle it.
We all have a way of dealing with tragedy. My way of handling it was the LOVE of a dog.
I have no idea why I wrote all this...I never have thought about writing this down. Two things happened to me today that made me write my story. The first thing this morning when I woke up I had Hurleys nose in my face. It was like 6 am and there he was. Happy as could be. Waking me up with a lick and a wet nose. Bonehead ran through my mind. One brief second..I felt his love come through Hurley. I swear..it was so unreal. I thought most of the day maybe there is Bonehead somewhere in Hurley. Then, I started cleaning and I came across a photo album. It was in our kitchen cabinet. On the top shelf. I grabbed it and opened it up. Can you believe I found pictures of Bonehead? I knew..I just knew this was what I was suppose to do. Open up and let everyone know the bond I have with this dog. That no matter what you believe...there has to be a GOD...so loving that he takes care of us in ways we can not imagine. He took my parents..for a reason. GOD took care of me though. He knew the way to give me a good childhood. He gave me Bonehead. GOD has now given me Hurley.
This is my story. Dogs are amazing and loving creatures. They can do wonderful things. I have no idea where my path is heading..but I do know it will be with Hurley. There is a bond and always will be....my husband, my children and my dog....Hurley....
Love,
Regina
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