As soon as my college roommate Dana and I got to Columbus, Ohio, after graduating from Miami in 1998, we wanted to get a dog. Now mind you, we were probably totally unprepared for a dog, but we wanted one.
That September, shortly after I landed my first job, we went to the Ohio Humane Society and looked. We both immediately fell in love with a little black furball, who was 4 months old. We got her home and named her Bijou, which means jewel in French.
It became apparent really quickly that she was not a Bijou. So instead we named her Montego, since earlier that year we’d gone to Montego Bay, Jamaica, for Spring Break. (Woo!)
Dana and I decided that whenever the day came that we wouldn’t be roommates anymore that Montego would be my dog. But of course, Montego liked Dana more than Montego liked me. This became the theme of our life, with Montego pretty much liking every else more than me. (She used to sleep outside Melissa’s closed bedroom door when we lived in German Village rather than on my bed. I mean, come on. And when Melissa came to visit for Passion ’07, Tego hadn’t seen her in about five years, but it was if they’d never been apart.)
She and I literally moved around the country together, and I’ll never forget how she stood up in the backseat (in her crate) the entire move from Ohio to Atlanta. And how my mom and I had to book a skeezy hotel on Cheshire Bridge because we didn’t know any better and they took dogs.
She was a sweet cuddly dog who liked to rest her head on your knee. I rocked her world when I brought home a little puppy in 2006, but Scout quickly became Montego’s sidekick. If Montego was the sheriff, Scout was her best deputy.
I truly believe the happiest years of her life have been the last few. Minnesota suited her, and so did pack life. I never knew how much she and I both needed a pack until we had one.
Aaron used to say, “Oh she’s going to live forEVER,” when having too many dogs got to be overwhelming. And we thought that she would! She was a spunky, sprightly old lady. Which makes this such a shock.
Up until Monday night even, she was her regular old self. I cannot believe I left her alone all day to deteriorate so rapidly. As soon as I got home, I scooped her up and drove to the vet. I kept my hand on her during the drive, and I could feel the rattle in her breath.
She passed away on her own terms, before I could even sign anything consenting to euthanasia.
I loved her so much.
Montego Merrill Price
May 1998 — October 13, 2010