Nobody knows where he came from.
Some say he was picked up roaming the streets in the Mid Cities. Others speculate he rode in on the rails with his hobo buddies and got off at the Red River switch to make his way south. The prevailing wind whispers that he came into San Francisco on a junket from Shanghai (where he picked up his tattoo), but no one knows how he ended up the Dallas metroplex. Perhaps a kind-hearted trucker wanted some company on the road. All we know is, Alfie landed in the city animal shelter system in Irving, Texas in November 2006.
Alfie Justin Kalin (November 22, 2005 – August 23, 2019) is now at rest, but his life will continue through his family’s memories. His own Christmas miracle occurred in December 2006 when he was adopted from Second Chance SPCA, but otherwise, he had a difficult time acclimating to domesticity. Upon being introduced to his sister Daisy, he ignored her adoration and began a patrol of the perimeter, a self-nominated sheriff of his new home territory. He was a little dog with a big dog’s confidence, lifting his hind leg on anything his little wiener could reach. This did not endear him to his mama, but certainly put his mark on the household.
During Alfie’s first cookout, he ingratiated himself to the extended family by gulping down the plate of raw chicken breasts set out on the patio table, waiting to be grilled. “Dog” almost went on the menu that day, in lieu of bird.
In the early years, Alfie still had the wanderlust and would bolt at the first opportunity. A door held open a second too long or a missed leash clip, and that boy was D-U-N G-O-N-E. I guess he missed his days on the road, but eventually even he couldn’t deny that two squares a day, a dog door and a roof over his head was a pretty fair bargain for sticking around.
Thus after a rough start, he mellowed with age, and we both began enjoying each other.
He was an athletic dog – an “Alf-lete,” if you will. It was not uncommon to find him on summer nights hitched up to my bicycle, out and about in the neighborhood seeing and sniffing the sights. He also was a enthusiastic running partner, continually challenging me to “Go faster, Mama! Go faster!!”
In 2010, he was diagnosed with an advanced heart murmur. Immediately, Steps Were Taken to put him on medications that would make the slope of decline a little less steep. It worked – he hung around for almost ten more years, adding dementia, a degenerative disc and kidney disease to his maladies. Alfie also developed a tremor in his hindquarters and was dubbed “Sir Shakes-A-Lot” by the girls at the vet’s office. He was a legend there, in and out a couple times a week for his subcutaneous fluids and check-ups. No matter what his aging body developed, he was The Dog Who Would Not Quit, a high-spirited, energetic and spunky dog with an unrelenting will to enjoy his life.
His groomer at Odom Grooming had a special name for Alfie when they saw him: “Mr. Alphonse.” After his spa days, he always sported a legendary pompadour for which he was known far and wide. His coat of many colors was glorious, as well as his delightful backyard rosemary bush cologne. He had beautiful amber eyes. In truth, even though he was a scruffy, scrappy mutt, he was altogether a splendid and lovely dog.
The family would like to thank the staff at Meadow BrookAnimal Hospital, including Dr. Sue, Dr. Clint and Dr. Emily. Without their care, Alfie would have had a much shorter life. We’d also like to thank Second Chance SPCA for pulling him out of the system, and its founder, Anne, who named him after her uncle’s dog in Missouri that she knew growing up. Unlike a lot of shelter names, this one was perfect and stuck.
Even as his body broke down, Alfie never lost his enthusiasm for life's gifts: backyard sniffs and smells, a good nap in front of a box fan, a daily walk. Today, it was my gift to release him back to wherever good dogs come from – heaven, I hope – where the smells are literally divine. I’m grateful for every day my little buddy and partner gave with his whole heart. I will miss my boy.
