He was my best friend

Louis William Ostler September 18 2000-November 11 2010

I struggle to write this as every time I do, my eyes well up and my chest wants to explode. But I'll do my best to convey what an amazing dog he was.

I always thought (and kinda hoped) that if Louie ever did die, he would die while I was on my mission. Somehow I thought that would make it easier. Now I'm at college and I can attest to the fact it only makes it harder not being there to say goodbye.

My family got Louie when I was only 8 years old. I've written numerous personal narratives about that night so I suppose I'll write one more. 

It was mid December and we were playing board games like any good cheesy Mormon family. I remember my sister Sarah explaining the next game and how much I didn't want to play anymore. The doorbell rang and my Sarah said 'Why don't you get it Dave?' At the time I was confused and mad that I had to get it. I was 8 years old for Pete's sake and I never normally answered the door. But alas, I got up and opened the door only to see a box on the porch. I didn't know at the time that it wasn't just a box, but rather a doggie crate. I looked inside and saw a snowy white puppy curiously looking back at me. I started yelling back to my family: 'GUYS! THERE'S A DOG OUT HERE!' Past recollections tell me that all my siblings thought (and I suppose still do for other reasons) I was retarded. As I brought in the crate, my family came out into the landing. We shut the door and opened the crate and let the dog come out and go crazy. Laura and Becca were crying because they had always wanted a dog and I was running outside to shout my thanks to Santa (there had a been a note on the top saying it was an early Christmas present). We played with it and thought of names and knew that this dog would be a fabulous dog.

The next day, I taught the dog how climb up the stairs. Being only a few months old, I noticed it perplexed by these 'stairs' I showed him how to climb up them one by one till finally we made it to the top. As we laid on my parents' bed, I asked my father what we should name him. I wanted Curly since I lacked creativity and his hair was in fact curly at the time. I don't remember other names besides Laura wanting 'Tito'. My dad then suggested 'How about Louie?' And after that, it stuck.

I could literally write a book about all the hilarious things Louie would do, but I will only share a few. 

The most prominent of memories are of his infamous Bichon Buzzes. His breed is Bichon Frise (French, King Louis, his name yadda yadda yadda little details I couldn't splice in) and every once in a while when he'd get all wired up, he'd go on a running spree, often making circuits between couches, chairs, and other living room fixtures. He'd run at top speed for a minute or two until he pooped out, lapped up some water and late his underbelly on any cold surface (usually the granite by the fireplace) to cool off.

He also had an insatiable thirst to cuddle and surround himself with things. Anytime you were on your bed, a couch or a chair that could barely fit yourself, he'd jump right up with you and protect you from anything so you could sleep, read, or watch tv in peace. And if you weren't sitting down, but there were blankets or pillows on such surfaces, he'd hop up and envelop himself in them to be as cozy as possible.

Finally, I want to note his smile and good nature. In all my years with him, he never barked maliciously or bit even the smallest child. He'd play and pretend he was fierce but deep down he was a wuss just like his owner. And whenever we'd be prancing down the sidewalk, he'd look up at me, wind in his glorious 'fro, and have the happiest smile on his face. I'd chuckle and call him a dork. We were both dorks. That's why we were so great together.

After Becca left for college, I was left alone with my parents until I, myself, went to college. I thought it'd be miserable, but Louie kept me company. Most prominently, I remember nearly two years ago, I had a terrible ear infection. I couldn't sleep so I took some Tylenol and watched TV in the early hours of the morning. Louie came in from my room, looked up at me and jumped up on the couch and cuddled with me as I watched TV and eventually fell asleep. Louie was always there for me when I was sick, depressed, or just needed a laugh. All he had to do was lay there with me.

Louie was an amazing dog to say the least. There are not enough positive adjectives in the world to describe that fine dog. He was my best friend for 10 years. I haven't cried this much for God knows how long. But I promised myself a long time ago I would never let anything dwell too long inside of me. He was a damn good dog and I hope my kids will have a dog half as great as Louie was to me.

I'll miss you buddy, enjoy the endless buffet of mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, popcorn and used tissues. I know you'll love it up there. You were, hands down, the best.

Biking, Insensitivity, and Snow

This weekend was surprisingly the funnest weekend I've had up here. Friday, I joined up with my buddy Andrew and a friend he met at BYU summer semester named Kyle. For those of you that know Craig Perry, Kyle is Craig... I saw him on campus once and thought it was in fact Craig.
Anyway, we met up with some women and went to a local burger joint-Sammy's. They specialize in burgers fries and shakes. They are quite delicious. We all got shakes and walked around town just lolling around. The night was uneventful for the most part, just good socializing.
Saturday morning though, I woke up early and headed out for a bike ride with my friend Spencer. My bike is a single speed and made of steel, and his is from the 80s and is louder than a Hybrid. Obviously we weren't breaking any speed records. I had mapped out a route that would take us into farming country where the roads were all pretty flat and surprisingly smooth.

 

The initial climb up to the temple essentially 'paid' for all the downhill the rest of the way. Since it's quite literally the middle of nowhere, there were very few cars on the road. And by cars I mean trucks that belong to the farmers. 95% of the time we had the road to ourselves and had ample space to goof around and ride no handed. Very skillfully, I took off my backpack, got my camera out, and snapped this picture... All while riding no handed.

We rode roughly 26 miles and completed in a time I'd rather not share. (Spencer is slower than me despite the fact he has at least 4x more functioning gears at any one time.)

I got home, showered, ate, laid around until the evening time. I then met up with Andrew and Kyle again and we were picked up by some friends and we all went to Chili's down in IF (Idaho Falls). There we celebrated one of the girl's birthdays and had a gay old time.
After the dinner, we headed back to Rexburg and met up at one the girls' apartments and had an 'Arab Dance Party'. Besides the possibility of eating nasty food and Bhangra dancing, I really didn't know what to expect, and quite frankly, I thought it was going to suck.

We walked in and some other people who weren't at dinner were already there and were dressed for the occasion: Towels rolled up and put on head, skirts with jingly metals, and fake beards. It was a surprise party (after the dinner? I know I was further confused...) so as more people got there, we applied fake beards and put towels on our head.
The birthday girl arrived, we didn't entirely surprise her, and the middle eastern music began. Eastern style dancing was attempted and was shockingly fun even though no one really knew what to do.

 

 Perhaps you can see Moses in the back left? When he walked in, we all, as if it were planned, shouted 'MOSES' from The Ten Commandments movie. 

At the end of the party, we said how we should have an 'Insensitive Party' every weekend. But we figured we wouldn't care if people in other countries had an American party and came dressed to that as a fat guy with a mullet. Especially since one guy came with paper towel tubes taped to his chest with TNT written on them... Good thing there's maybe 4 middle eastern people in the entire state of Idaho.

Sunday came-Stake Conference, or 10 hour church as I like to call it. Realistically it's only 2 hours, but with just talks, it seems to drag on a bit.

In the evening though, our apartment finally put plan into action as we, at long last, constructed our fort.

From the Kitchen^^

 

From the inside of our new fort room.^^

It's awesome. We tell secrets, eat popcorn and watch TV.

And finally, today I woke up the unpleasant noises of raindrops hitting out window. I put on pants and shirt and looked felt outside to see how cold it was. It was 2 zip up jacket weather.

I threw those on, brushed my teeth and put together my backpack. I grabbed my umbrella and headed outside. But now... It was snowing?! I wasn't sure if I was supposed to still use an umbrella. So I acted like a freshman and pranced around in my snazzy umbrella.

I was glad I did because at some points, the snow was going horizontally. While others tucked their heads down and walked blindly on the sidewalks, I stood tall, umbrella directly ahead of me, also walking blindly. The difference being, I didn't have snowflakes (that would inevitably melt and be wet) all over myself.

The week is only supposed to get colder so we'll see how long before I break down and cry. But I must go out on a high note so... There's less than 2 weeks before I come back to amazing California weather!

The power of DREAMS!

All my roommates are great. That is... except one. We'll call him 'Chris'. Everyone else (EVEN ME!) cleans their pots and pans after they make a meal, they put their dishes in the dish washer, and put away the stuff they used to make a meal.
Not Chris. If it wasn't for us, there would always be 3 or 4 pots/pans in the sink. I'm quite certain he doesn't know we have a dishwasher as he always leaves his dishes out and at best, he puts them in the sink. HELLO! DISH-WASHER!!!! The only work you have to do is opening the door and placing the plate in the slots and your utensils in the little cubby things!
Not only that but he always seems to think he's the only one home and that we all love country blaring from his laptop. I hate other people's music blaring, and I DESPISE country music. And to top it all off, when he isn't blasting tunes of a man fornicating with his pick up, he's eating... (which in turn makes more dirty dishes) VERY LOUDLY. The other day he made a batch of oatmeal while I sat in the living room going over my psych notes. He sits down and slurps up some oatmeal and chews louder than I thought humanly possible.
Long story short, he bugs me. A surprise right that I don't like everyone?

But today... Today my friends, as I took my usual MWF nap between class blocks, I had a dream. In this dream there were some females over to our apartment, talking to Chris of all people. And for some reason, I walked out there and started ripping on him and how he always leaves his crap out and never washes his dishes. I woke up thinking that later that day I would say something like what I said in my dream, but be a little nicer about it since I have to live with him for another 5 months. I put my backpack together for my next set of classes, and opened my bedroom door, and oh my what is this!? Chris had not only unloaded the dishwasher for the first time, but he was cleaning all the pots and pans in the sink (which were all his). I was astounded to say the least.

Maybe I was sleep yelling and actually said all those things and Chris heard it and took note. Maybe my telepathic brainwaves from my dream floated over and enticed him to do the dishes. I don't know. But I'm grateful for whatever it was.