The Little Unholy Terror Known As…Snowflake

Posted on December 10, 2020

I grew up with dogs. My first one was a Siberian Husky named Tashka. She had two blue eyes, was incredibly loving, and had a very playful personality, perfect for little 5-year-old me. Our second dog was another Siberian Husky, this one named Kira. Unlike Taskha, Kira was hell on four paws, prompting us to give her the nickname Atilla. It was during Kira’s reign that Mom wanted a Cocker Spaniel, who she named Jesse James. Jesse loved Kira, or at least he tried. Kira wanted no part of him and let her displeasure of his existence be known. Daily. They eventually passed and Mom took my aunt’s dog, a Shih Tzu named Snickers. He was completely adorable, and what a curious personality! I honestly thought we were done with dogs after Snickers passed, but, no. I was wrong. Mom took in the dog of a friend who had to go into assisted living, and wound up with Cuckoo.

Yes, his name is Cuckoo. We didn’t name him. His original owner did. And Cuckoo is completely appropriate in its description.

I came to know Cuckoo a bit when I’d help Mom with Dad during his final years of Alzheimer’s, and then after. Cuckoo never strayed far from Mom, and she had issues with him because when visitors came into the house, he’d nip at them when they’d walk by. Fortunately, the fur ball never did this with me, otherwise we’d have had a long coming-to-dog-Jesus chat. Cucks made the mistake of growling at Ralph one day a year ago, and Ralph was NOT having that. A dog does not growl at him and have it go unchecked. Nope. Not happening.

I stayed at Mom’s house after Grandma passed and Mom was in the hospital. Someone had to look after the dog, and co-existing with him was no easy task. Cucks was used to Mom and getting away with whatever he damn well pleased. Not so much with me, and so we started to resent each other. He wanted to sleep up on the bed with me, forcing me into one position most of the night. I wasn’t fond of this arrangement, and so he resented my constant turning over and pushing him a few inches away so I didn’t roll over him. He demanded company when he went outside to do his business and if I chose not to go with him despite his desperate need to relieve himself, he’d stand outside the door and stare at me, waiting. God help us if I didn’t feed him quick enough or have dessert ready for him either.

Mom passed and this little bundle of joy came to live with me and Ralph.

Outside maintenance is a must during the summer months, and we felt Cucks might like to stay outside with me while I worked. We picked up a long, light lead for him since we don’t have a fenced in yard, and attached it to our stairway. He had a good 20-30 feet for which he could move around and do as he pleased. Cuckoo refused to budge the moment the lead was attached to his collar. He’d rather sit on a hot sidewalk, in the sun, and not move a muscle than take one step with that lead.

Me: What the hell is wrong with you? Move!
Cuckoo: Nope.
Me: What do you mean, nope? I bought the lightest lead in the world. You can go anywhere you want within 30 feet.
Cuckoo: You have chained my soul.

God forbid if little Master can’t find a place in the yard where he wants to pee either. He prefers to walk his kingdom twice over before making a decision. He’s 14 years old. Make a decision! Nope. And if I get annoyed with him, look down, and growl “JUST PEE,” he will refuse to go at all. At all. He’ll go back inside the house, sit for 2 minutes, then demand to go back outside in case he can now find a suitable place for the priceless treasures he’s going to gift the earth with. As fun as that may sound, you should see his little face during the winter when there’s a few feet of snow on the ground and I’ve only shoveled a 15 foot area in the lawn for him. He cannot POSSIBLY find a place to do his business in 15 feet in the freezing cold. Why haven’t we finished clearing the lawn for His Majesty?

Ralph has walked inside the house more than once and asked “What is wrong with this damn dog?” Well, he’s Cuckoo.

But when my friends or Ralph’s friends come by the house? He’s not Cuckoo. They call him their precious Snowflake, and that dog eats it up. Even the groomer gushes about how he’s the best boy who visits them, and how calm and good he is.

Seriously???

I know Mom is laughing at me. Dad, too, probably. I plan on having a word with them about this one day. And, if you must know, yes, we kinda like the little guy.

Cuckoo Smith-Wilcox-Gair  (aka Snowflake)

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Kristoffer Gair (who formerly wrote under the pseudonym Kage Alan) is the Detroit-based author of Honor Unbound, A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To My Sexual Orientation, Andy Stevenson Vs. The Lord Of The Loins, Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell, several short stories featured in anthologies (to be combined in a forthcoming book), the novella Falling Awake, its sequel, Falling Awake II: Revenant and Falling Awake III: Requiem.