Razzy Cakes

While I was growing up, we always had dogs. There was Max, Isis, Skippy, Suzie . . . maybe there were more, I don’t remember. The dogs always liked my mom best. I was young and I couldn’t take care of myself, let alone a dog. Dogs know these things; they love whomever the can count on.
There is one dog, however, that I really fell in love with. In fact, I love him so much that his name nearly replaces the noun, dog. Like the words Kleenex or Band-Aid, they’re names that supersede the generic word used before them. Sometimes, without thinking, I accidentally call my dogs—or any dogs—Razzle. It’s out of nowhere and even though I haven’t seen him in a while. He is etched into my heart and his presence in my mind is as dominant as his name is in my language.




Razzle is a miniature Schnauzer. He is silver with a cute black nose which is tattooed by a little pink mark—maybe from birth. He looks like a typical Schnauzer, although he is small for his breed and his ears were never clipped. His ears, which are considered an imperfection, are his best feature. They are so expressive. He can lift just one into an alert stance, and that means he is listening. If he lifts them both, look out, he hears something and he is probably going to start yodel barking. Sometimes his ears get itchy and he has to lie on his side and scratch them with both his front paws, pulling both his ears down over his eyes while snorting wildly. No matter where is ears are placed, or how itchy they might be, Razzle is always smiling.

Razzle was diagnosed with diabetes a few years back and his life was never the same after that. Although he was fed a proper amount of food, he has remained too skinny and seemingly delicate. He wasn’t allowed to partake in yummy dog treats and his eyes began to fail. He is now blind. Despite his misfortune, up until recently, Razzle has still been smiling.

It’s time now, however. Losing a dog is shattering. It’s times, near the end of their lives, when we start to wish we weren’t dog lovers. We start to envy the people who think dogs are dirty and annoying, and who refer to them as its. The same people who I don’t fully like.

But, the thing about death is, we know it won’t be bad for Razzle. He’s lived out his life as best he can. He will die and recycle his wonderful spirit back into the earth. The thing about death is, it’s the people still living that feel the pain. I’m proud of my mom for letting Razzle go. It’s very selfless.

After ten to fifteen years of bathing, feeding, snuggling, entertaining, and overall selfless devotion to a living creature that will never make a profit or even return those simple favors, it’s the letting them die part that is the most self-sacrificing gesture.

R.I.P. Razzle