Did you see that?: Oh how I loved my dog, Obituary for Cricket

Cricket Davis

March 6, 2000 - June 15, 2015

Even after 15 years of marriage, Matt would often say he never quite knew what to buy Donna. Perhaps later presents were simply overshadowed by the best gift he ever gave her. As newlyweds, he arrived home from work one day with a 6-month-old cocker spaniel named Cricket. Golden curls, large dark eyes and exploding with energy, he was a boy version of Lady from "Lady and the Tramp." He immediately made himself at home, snuggling up to Matt and Donna, or often Laura, in bed and warning the family of UPS deliveries.As a one-year old, Cricket came pre-trained with a few tricks. Adorably, he would put his toys back into his bed after he was done playing with them and only ever chewed on his toys. He was careful not to trample Donna's flower garden. He also seemed to have a sixth sense of pain, worry or distress for his family. Whenever Donna was sick, he would guard her bed day and night to protect her from harm and in a way heal her.

He had quirks as well, or perhaps just elevated taste. The family soon learned why he arrived at their home with a never-been-touched bag of dry dog food. It wasn't simply a kind gesture from his previous owners—Cricket rejected all dog food. Within weeks, Donna had begun cooking him dinners of chicken or beef, usually served with a side of rice or whatever the family was having. Lasagna was by far a favorite. He enjoyed eating from a fork and spoon, drinking from a cup and always wiped his mouth after dinner.

From their Perry Hall home, surrounded by fields, forest and a swimming pool, Cricket lived a life of adventure. He'd romp about the Gunpowder Falls State Park, chasing deer and squirrels and howling gleefully with a rooster-like crow at foxes. He would eventually return home, grinning broadly, his short "hot dog" tail shaking with excitement and his curls caked with brambles and tiny balls of natural green velcro. Donna would spend hours combing them out. As far as his family knew, Cricket never caught any other animals, beyond the occasional frog or spider, but his smile said otherwise. He relished in moments of wildness, knowing a warm bed and hot meal awaited him back home.

Just once, Cricket couldn't find his way home. As a young dog, he would occasionally run the neighborhood, never getting into too much trouble and returning home within 30 minutes. But that night, he wasn't home for dinner and he wasn't home for bed. There seemed to be no trace of him anywhere in the neighborhood. Missing dog signs soon lined Schroeder Avenue's utility polls, but no one called. Days and many prayers passed. Until suddenly, the call came. Cricket was locked up in Baltimore County Animal Services many miles away in Baldwin, Maryland. Only wearing his rabies tag (his other tags were torn off with pliers, possibly by a dog thief), the shelter used his vaccination records to locate his family. No one seemed more relieved than Cricket to be found. He yelped and pounced at the door of his cage when he heard the voices of his family. His time in the slammer changed him. He rarely strayed too far from home ever again.

Cricket could be a prima donna at times (he preferred being blow-dried after a bath), but he always respected authority. When Maryland Governor Bob Ehrlich arrived at the house for a campaign fundraiser, Cricket sat on his feet, establishing that the governor had his personal stamp of approval. When Ray, Donna's father, visited Cricket would raise his chin and speak at length about whatever was on his mind, sounding out long wordy sentences. Ray would respond in turn. Sometimes the conversation would turn to politics. This could go on for minutes at a time. He loved Dad-Dad visits.

Cricket was the family mascot, donning a tuxedo at Jen and Jeff's wedding, patrolling the gardens and swimming area all summer long at countless parties, wearing bunny ears and bows to over a dozen Easter egg hunts. He was the honorary pet dog to so many children, he let them pet, prod, smother and follow him around all with patience and understanding. He made countless trips to the airport, where his favorite people seemed to
come and go continuously. He welcomed Matt and Donna's growing brood of grandchildren with kisses year after year.