Wicket became the alpha dog and the only one who could ever get him to do anything was Jay. He was definitely our protector and actually saved our house from being robbed once. He would patrol the house up to five times a night walking from window to window and room to room. He kept us safe. He learned parlor tricks like "play roadkill" and "where's dickhead". He also had a nemesis - the guy who rode the yellow recumbent bike up and down our street.
Wicket ended up have a problem in his neck with a couple of his vertebrae when he was about 6. Like all good parents Jay and I broke the bank to get him the surgery he desperately needed. After the surgery the vet told us that he would be lucky to have five more years. For three days Wicket stayed inside. He refused to go outside, even to relieve himself but for some strange reason...he never went in the house one time. I wish I had his bowel and bladder control! I was also recovering from a much needed surgery at the same time so I was able to stay home and care for The Boy. Every morning I would fix him scrambled eggs and hand feed them to him. I cupped water in my hand to help him drink. After that, he became my dog. We bonded during that healing time. And he got better - extremely better. Wicket bounced back from his surgery better and stronger than ever. And he defied the odds.
Wicket was born in August of 1995. Jay bought him at a flea market for $35. He was our Alpha dog. We acquired four other dogs and a retarded cat but Wicket took care of them all. He went from Jay's dog to my dog. He was our kid before we got the kid. He had a great love for pizza crust and loved catching snowballs every winter. But he got old, his vision was failing and so was his hearing. It had become increasingly difficult for him to walk and he just wasn't happy anymore. We took him to the vet on January 21, 2010, and had him put to sleep. He was almost 15 and a half.
I really miss Wicket. He was the coolest dog. Jay always talked for Wicket using a French accent. We made up this whole story about how he was a dog pimp and really ran an international poodle cartel. He even wore a derby hat and smoke cigars when we weren't home. Yea, we are crazy.