Previously known as Zinnia (seriously) and Minnie Pearl.
Also known or called Minnie Moo, Minnifer, the Baby, Princess Minnie.
About six years ago, I got the brilliant idea (as I tell people I have lots of ideas, most of them aren't really good ideas, but I have lots of them) that Snickers needed a playmate. So, I searched the internet for rescue beagles. After months of searching, I found this cute, sweet beagle, who needed a home. We went and met her, with her foster mother, and our spidey senses told us something was amiss, but she seemed somewhat quiet and shy, so we took her in as our new family member, and playmate for Snickers.
Little did we know what we were in for. Minnie was probably two years old or so at the time, and she obviously had been abused, most likely by men. She had the constant "flight or fight" mentality in all that she did. Taking her for a walk was a challenge. Taking her to the dog park was an adventure. I still remember the one time (I think our last time at the dog park) when she took off at a sprint of about 30 feet and rammed into the side of this poor unsuspecting basset hound. The poor dog had no idea what hit him and certainly had no idea why it hit him. We quickly exited never to come back.
It wasn't just other dogs that felt the wrath of Minnie, humans, mainly men, also felt the wrath. I don't think any of us has not been bitten by Minnie at least once in our lives, you learned to watch closely the sides of her lips, to see if they were raising, ready to snap at you. My Dad and Jim Dyer can both attest, she really didn't like men. Again, I think it came from her beginning years of abuse, but my Dad and Jim both felt the wrath of Minnie. Poor Dumb Ass, Snickers, felt her anger a few different times. Most of the time, he had absolutely no idea what hit him, just that Minnie wasn't happy with him. Being the typical man, he usually went back, very apologetically, no idea for what, but he went back groveling, trying to earn her forgiveness.
While we all experienced the dark side of Minnie, most of us also experienced the loving side. Just like any other woman, her venom could be turned to honey in an instant. She melted my heart just about every day by waiting at the front window for me to come home from work. She'd stand at the front window waiting for my car, and when I pulled into the driveway, she'd rush to the garage door and wait to greet me. She'd stand there and shake all over, crying when I came in. No one has ever greeted me this way, and I have to be honest, it made me feel so special. Of course, I'd give her a treat, and after a while, Snickers figured out that there was something to this, and he started greeting me also at the back door, but Minnie always got the first hugs and pets and treats, because she was the one who started it all.
Minnie was also the proof positive of how far we'll go for our pets. She tended to have "accidents" throughout the house. We tended to believe it was more to irritate us than anything, since she had just been outside most of the time when she did it, but she had to show us that we've done something wrong. So, instead of dealing with Minnie, we ripped up all the carpeting, and replaced it with wood flooring, because she didn't like to go the bathroom on smooth surfaces (yes, I know, there's something wrong with us, not her).
Minnie also had her certain mannerisms that we grew to love. She'd go to the backdoor, like she wanted to go out, and pull the "Minnie fake out" as we called it. She'd stand at the backdoor until you opened it, and then she'd walk away. She would oftentimes put her paw up on your hand, leg, computer, whatever to let you know that you weren't paying enough attention to her. If you happened to lay on the floor for whatever reason, she would plop on top of you to let you know that you belonged to her. And furniture was meant for Minnie to sleep on, not nice plush dog beds on the floor, that was for normal dogs.
I called this the Short and Happy Life of Minnie McCullough because that is what I want to remember. I feel so badly that she was obviously abused before we got her, I really struggle with the fact that people abuse animals, children, etc., but the reality is that it happens. I feel badly for Minnie for the last six months or so when she had cancer and life was a daily struggle, dealing with the pain and the inability to use her one front paw. I want to focus on the middle five or six years or so when Minnie was the Princess, when she ruled our house, when we let her run our lives. OK, I know you all may think I'm crazy, but I just loved that dog, with all of her faults, with all of her quirks, she made me feel special. And that is why, Minnie was the Princess, the Baby, and she will always be in my heart. I'm going to miss her, I'm going to miss that greeting at the end of the day. But I'll always know in my heart that we gave Minnie a great place to live, and I wish all rescue dogs were that lucky. At the end of the day though, the amount of love that we gave to Minnie doesn't even come close to the love she gave us. Just like with any dog, Minnie's love for us was limitless.
Rest in Peace, Princess Minnie.
