Tango

 

Before there was our dog Stormie, there was Tango. We got him as a companion dog to Jack, who was a tough act to follow. We’ll get into that in detail when I finish Jack’s story. But this one is about big, goofy, sweet, Tango.

The year was 2013. We moved back to St. Louis from Florida during the summer of 2012, and settled in Bridgeton. We had one dog back then, a black lab/greyhound/border collie mix named Jack. We decided to get another dog. I went to the Humane Society in Maryland Heights. I looked at all of their dogs, and saw a 7 month old golden lab/hound mix male named Tango. He was in quarantine due to some intestinal issue, and was very skinny. I approached his kennel and he immediately came over to me, and when I stuck my fingers through the bars, he licked them. I could tell right then that he was a sweet boy. I inquired about adopting him, and was told he would be in quarantine for another two to three weeks. They wouldn’t let me “reserve him,” so I mounted a campaign to make sure we would get him as soon as he got out of quarantine. For two straight weeks I visited Tango 4 or 5 times a week. Each time I made sure the attendants at the Humane Society knew I was there to see just one dog, Tango. On the days when I wasn’t able to visit him, I called and identified myself and asked how he was doing? Finally, towards the end of the 2nd week, they told me they would make sure I was going to be able to take Tango home in a few days. My persistence paid off. My wife calls me her “pet bulldog” because of my tenacity. I rarely give up on anything. Tango was already neutered so as soon as he was cleared medically I was there to fill out the paper work and take him to his new home. Tango met our other dog Jack as soon as we entered the house. They did the customary sniffing, which gives new meaning to the concept of “background check.” After that doggy formality had been satisfied, Jack led Tango through the dog door out to the back yard. A play session commenced as soon as they reached the grass. That was the beginning of a friendship that lasted until the day Jack died. Jack had his grandpa’s greyhound speed, but Tango’s long legs and puppy energy enabled him to keep up with Jack’s sprints around the yard. When we got Tango he was slightly smaller than Jack. Because of his illness, his ribs stood out. It didn’t take long for us to put some meat on his doggy bones, and over the next 6 months he grew, and he grew, and he grew. At one point he was nearly 100 pounds. That was a little too heavy, and we followed the Vet’s recommendation and cut back a little on the amount of his food. Between that and constant play with Jack, Tango got down to “fighting weight,” about 70 lbs. His ribs didn’t stick out – he was all muscle. Tango wasn’t housebroken when we got him, but within two weeks he learned to do his business outside. It helped that we had a dog door that we left open all day. Like all of our other dogs, I taught him to “sit,” “stay,” “come,” and “give me your paw.” He showed me just how smart he was when I taught him to “lay down.” I got on my knees in front of him and I moved my hand in a downward motion while saying, “lay down.” He did just that on the first try, and every one after that. Wow! Like Jack and Stormie, he also came when I called, as well as when I whistled, and when I tapped on the window while he was outside. I also taught him to do all his commands with hand signals too. With his big floppy ears, and his hanging jowls, you wouldn’t assume he was such a brilliant dog, unless you reviewed his resume. It was impressive. Tango had a commitment towards destruction, unmatched by any dog before or after him. During his “formative years,” young Tango worked his way up the canine damage chain both inside and outside of the house. With his big paws and thick claws, coupled with an unparalleled determination, he dug world class holes in the back yard that kept me busy for hours filling. Often I would look outside through the kitchen window and see Tango wearing his yellow construction hat, leaning over a large table with construction plans spread out, planning his next excavation project. Despite the array of dog toys, bones, and tug ropes in our doggy inventory, we returned from an outing only to discover to our immense horror, that Tango had ripped a hole in one of the couch cushions and pulled out a bunch of stuffing. Yikes! BAD DOG! BAD DOG! I managed to put all of the stuffing back into the cushion, and closed the “wound” by stitching it by hand. It took me over an hour to repair the damage. Two days later, Tango returned to the scene of the crime and did it again. We were harboring a serial furniture killer. BAD DOG! BAD DOG! I think it was about then that we bought a cover for the couch and recliner. Tango got the message and moved on to greener pastures – remote controls! This is where Tango truly excelled, and revealed just how much of an over-achiever he truly was. Ah yes, the remotes. They had our scents, they were oh so crunchy, and just the right size to exercise Tango’s large jaws. He took on the task of destroying any remote within his reach, and when he was fully grown, he had quite a reach. He measured over 5 feet tall when standing on his hind legs, and when he was on all fours, he was still tall enough to reach things on the counters, kitchen table, and living room end tables. Tango managed to get and mangle 4 remote controls. He seemed to favor the heady bouquet and rich undertones of petroleum in the DirecTv remotes. We basically had to move all of the remote controls into drawers when we weren’t using them. My wife Rose worried that I would want to return him to the Humane Society because of all of the damage, but as they say, “This wasn’t my first rodeo.” Tango was too sweet for me to be tempted to get rid of, not that big teddy bear. Besides, I love big dogs, and when he sounded the alarm that someone was on our property, it was a loud booming bark. Plus, he liked to get on the couch and poke that big head between the drapes. Tango was also a great hunter. I remember the morning I came out of my bedroom and in the dimly lit hallway just about stepped on a large furry dead animal that Tango had dispatched outside and brought into the house. It was one of the largest rabbits I’ve ever seen. How big old Tango was able to sneak up on the bunny I’ll never know, but he did that twice. Both times he brought his prey into the house for our enjoyment. He also nailed a squirrel and a bird or two. Tango – the great tan hunter! Because they were both males, every now and then Tango and Jack got into a snarling contest, and just once Tango nipped one of Jacks ears and drew blood. That was traumatic, more for me than Jack. Jack was my boy (to be covered in the next dog tale). When he was about 5 years old, Tango developed canine epilepsy. Two different vets were unable to tell us the cause. Both treated the symptoms. His seizures would last anywhere from 7 to 10 minutes. During a seizure he would get this frightened look on his face, his eyes filled with terror. He would start thrashing. Depending where he was when a seizure started, would determine my strategy for keeping him safe until it passed. Sometimes, I would put pillows near his head if they were available, and sometimes I would just get on the ground and hold him so he wouldn’t bang his head on a wall or some piece of furniture. It killed me to see him suffer like that. He was put on two different kinds of medicine, and we were spending more on his health care than our own. But Tango was a valued member of our family, so we didn’t think twice about the expense. If you have a pet, you know what I’m talking about. Tango settled down after a turbulent start, and stopped his destructive antics. He proved to be a great big brother to Stormie. Despite the difference in size, Tango being much larger and outweighing Stormie by 20 pounds, when they wrestled Tango would let Stormie knock him down. They both looked ferocious, but never ever hurt one another. They chased each other around the yard, and Stormie would sometimes grab Tango’s collar and try to pull him down that way. She also tried to nip his legs. Tango would open that big jaw and put his teeth on her neck, but never hurt her. For years it was fun to watch them play together. Eventually, Tango stopped running as much as he used to, and he stopped letting Stormie push him over. But they still did their play fighting, right up until the last day he was with us. We had nearly 14 great years with Tango, and when we finally had to take him to the vet and say goodbye to him, my wife and I both had a long cry over our big goofy loveable buddy. We always felt safe with Tango in the house. We loved it when we would come home from somewhere and see that big head poking out through the drapes in the living room. He’s gone now, but never forgotten.