You Need to Understand, Cam is a Good Boy
Cam is one of the most important parts of my life. He’s a very good boy, but he’s far too humble to admit it. Science will tell you he’s a mutt, predominantly a black lab, mixed with some Australian Sheppard and Catahoula, apparently, hence the question mark tail. Not the tallest dog in the world, he just about comes up to my knee, and I’m something of a short king myself.
He was born in December 2014, and I picked him up in January 2015. It was a tough year, 2014. A string of failed jobs and dropping out of college left me rudderless, unsure of where I needed to go in life. I was back living with my parents, trying to figure my life out and find a job for much of the year. We had owned at least one dog my whole life, but mostly we had two.
We only had Jake then, a German Sheppard who was a good boy in his own right. Our other dog, Max, had passed away three years prior. I loved Jake, but he always preferred my mom, spending most of his time with her and no one else. Max was a great dog, he loved everyone and had such a big heart. I missed having a dog like that, and with how badly things were going, I took a chance and asked my parents if they could get me another dog. I couldn’t afford one on my own, and it was a big ask, but I needed one.
Eventually, they said yes. They told me on Christmas Day 2015 that I could pick out a dog. So, the following month, when all the dog kennels opened back up, we went looking.
Looking for Cam
It was a warm day, even by South Carolina standards. We looked at three different kennels, and I loved every dog I saw, of course, but I couldn’t quite find the one. The sun barred down on us, spending hours looking for the perfect doggo.
That’s when my mom suggested one last place she had heard about from a friend. It was far away, about an hours drive. The place is tucked away in the middle of the woods. And what a strange place it was, almost ethereal. There were no traditional cages, instead dogs were kept in these huge domes made out of wood and plastic. There were wind chimes everywhere you looked. The smell of wet dog and pine needles smothered you. The caretakers kept their distance, walking around the perimeter of the woods as they played with some of the other dogs. Behind us were several buildings that looked abandoned. A chain length fence surrounded the area where the enclosures were, with another fence bafflingly wrapped around that one.
I was looking at a husky when my sister called to me. She and my parents were looking at this little black ball, huddled in the corner of one of the domes. My sister opened the door and pulled this tiny puppy out, shivering like a leaf. He was in there by himself, his siblings and mother already taken. The runt of the litter.
I thought he was cute, and I liked him. Then my sister handed him to me. He finally uncurled, stretched his arm-legs on my chest. He looked up at me, searching my eyes. Satisfied, he leaned forward and chewed on my beard. Okay, I’m sorry to say it was actually a goatee. But it was then that I knew I had to have this dog. Later that day, I learned that my sister caught the moment on camera. I was so enthralled by this dog I didn’t even notice she was taking pictures.
I named him Cam. I was a big fan of the Carolina Panthers at the time, and our quarterback was Cam Newton – at the time one of the best in the league. I still him Cam Newton to this day, even though the real McCoy has long since retired and I haven’t watched sports in years. I held Cam in my lap the whole ride home. He kept chewing at my goatee–already trying to help me by getting rid of that monstrosity–and staring out the window. Somehow, I think he knew he was going to a good home.
Waiting for Jake to Boil Over
When we finally got home, my parents wanted to present Cam as a gift to Jake, since he missed Max as much as the rest of us. They went to find a box to put Cam in, while I got Jake and brought him outside. My dad put the box down in front of Jake, and after a few seconds, Cam popped out. They sniffed each others noses, and of course the obligatory dog greeting after Cam climbed out. Then they ran around the yard together, Jake chasing Cam, then Cam chasing Jake. Jake seemed happy to finally have a little brother, and Cam was happy to have a big brother.
That mutual love only lasted a couple of hours. Cam loved Jake unconditionally, always following him around, sharing his toys, and trying to play with him. Jake… well, he tolerated Cam. Maybe even liked him, at times. But I don’t doubt that Jake did not feel the same way about Cam as Cam felt about him. When Jake left a room, Cam followed. If Cam left the room, Jake watched him leave. When we fed Jake first, Cam patiently waited for his share. When we made the mistake of feeding Cam first, well, Jake wasn’t happy. In fact, they couldn’t eat in the same room. Even when Cam ate out of his own bowl, Jake would usually get mad at bark at him. More than once, Jake chased Cam out of the room and ate his food. Yet despite it all, Cam loved Jake.
Don’t take this the wrong way. Jake was a good boy. He wasn’t particularly loving like Max was and Cam is, but he wasn’t bad. He liked belly rubs, he liked his pets, and he followed my mom around everywhere. He passed away in 2021, and Cam mourned his passing with the rest of us. For two weeks it was difficult to get Cam to do anything. He didn’t want to play, he didn’t want to eat. To this day, when he eats, he looks longingly to his right, where we used to put Jake’s bowl. He stares, waiting several minutes before he starts eating. Perhaps he’s waiting for Jake to finish his meal, just as before.
A Catastrophic Injury
In 2018, Cam suffered a catastrophic leg injury. I had moved out by then, but my parents had a huge backyard (and Jake) so I frequently took him over there to play. They have a large hump towards the back, not quite a hill, but it’s pretty high compared to the rest of the yard, and very steep on one side. I never thought much of it, so I threw the tennis ball past this mound, which I had done a million times with Max, Jake, and already Cam. He ran after it at supersonic speed, as he always did, and on this day, as he was going up the mound, he tripped and fell.
I wasn’t too concerned at first. Cam is a bit clumsy. But he was slow to pick himself up, and struggled to do so. I ran over to him, and by the time I got there he was back up on his feet. He limped over to the ball, still picking it up and dropping it at my feet. I didn’t think it was too bad since he still wanted to play, but I played it safe and took him inside to let him rest.
He limped for the next few days. It was a small limp, and sometimes it was barely noticeable. I figured he would be fine in time. But he wasn’t. After several more days, not only was he still limping. It was getting worse. Within two weeks, he could barely put any weight on the leg, holding it up in the air when he walked.
I took him to the vet, where he was given a DOG scan. We learned he tore his ACL (anterior cruciate ligament). That’s a major injury for a human, taking a couple of years to fully recover. Until a few years ago was more or less a kiss of death for athletes. It’s repaired by taking another ligament or tendon, cutting it, and using that material to make a new ACL. That’s not possible in dogs; they don’t have extra tissue lying around to recycle. So there are two different options. I’m no vet, so you can learn the specifics here.
Basically, they cut Cam’s tibia, rotated it, and screwed a metal plate into it. This essentially changed the structure of how his leg works. As you’d expect, it was expensive, and required several months to heal. Once again I have to give my eternal gratitude to my parents. My dad paid for the surgery because I could not afford it. I don’t know what would have happened if he didn’t put up the money. I dread to think about it.
When Cam came home, I set up an inflatable bed for him on the living room floor, since he couldn’t jump onto my bed or the couch. I moved my desktop computer from my bedroom/office and set it up there in the living room so I could be with him. This was when my freelance writing career was “taking off” and I worked from home. Another miracle, given the situation.
Cam eventually recovered. Mostly. For about two years after his injury, he would sometimes limp if he ran around too much. The metal plate is still in his leg, and you can feel and see it in there. It gives him a strange silhouette. From around 2020 to 2024, he could run or walk as fast or as long as he wanted. But, as he’s gotten older, it’s taken a toll on him. I don’t know how much of it is arthritis he would have developed anyway, and how much is this old injury. He doesn’t let it bother him, though. He’s never whined or yelped in pain, he never seems to bite or lick his leg as if he were in pain. He always wants to keep playing no matter how long we do.
Let it Snow
Living in southern South Carolina my whole life, I don’t have much experience with snow. I thought it was an urban legend as a kid, a story your parents tried to scare you with to make you eat all your Metamucil. Yet thanks to the horrors of climate change pure chance, I’ve seen snow twice here, and I’ve had Cam both times.
The first was 2018, a few months before Cam’s injury. I took Cam over to my parents and he and Jake, alongside myself and my niece. (9/10, enjoyed it, would be snowed on again.) experienced snow for the first time. Jake was not a fan. A stereotypical old man, he stayed outside long enough to tell everyone how much he didn’t like it, how back in his day he never had no fancy-pants white stuff falling from the sky, and went back inside to continue building his ship in a bottle. I don’t know what old people do.
But Cam loved it. Cam, my niece, and I were outside for hours playing in the snow. It wasn’t very thick, barely sticking to the ground. We still had a blast, though. Watching Cam chase snowballs, try to eat the snow as it fell, and tackling my niece as she got up from making a snow angel was great fun. And he was so cute covered in snow, the powered sticking to his face like he had a white beard. He wanted to stay outside all day, too. We had a hard time getting him inside.
The second time was this year, January 2025. It was ridiculous. It snowed for a whole day, and this time it piled up several feet on the ground. As we forgot about the catastrophe that this signaled the world was in, we again spent hours doing much the same. Cam still loved the snow, and again the three of us headed to my parents’ house and their huge backyard, and had even more fun with the thicker snow. We took him for a walk around the neighborhood, and he kept jumping in big snow drifts, like a child jumping in a pile of leaves. He’d see a puddle of frozen water and try to drink it. Adorable.
The snow stuck around for a week before it finally melted. Every day Cam would go outside and either sit on the balcony of my apartment, want to go for long walks (despite his obvious pain in his legs), or go out there and play. There must be some breed in him that loves snow, like a husky or something, because I don’t think Labs are known for loving snow. Maybe Cam’s "constructed differently," as the kids say.
Homemade Treats and Toys as Far as the Eye Can See
There’s a great breakfast diner nearish me I go to with my family sometimes. I’m always more excited by the store next door, though. That would be a dog bakery and groomer. Yes, a dog bakery. They make fresh treats there specifically for dogs. Not pets. Not dogs and cats. Just dogs. I’ve never been able to take Cam in person (in dog?) but I always pick up a few treats for him whenever I go. He adores those things.
He’s spoiled, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear yet. He has several dozen toys scattered about the place. I have a basket in the living room that’s overflowing with dog toys. He likes to take them all out and scatter them across the apartment, while still only playing with the same two or three. His two favorites are a Costco soda cup from Bark!, and a tough, yellow bone from Hyper Pet Chewz. He’s had the latter for most of his life, a gift from my sister when he was a puppy. He takes that thing with him almost everywhere he goes.
He’s such a loving dog, too. He likes to play as much as he does cuddle. Whenever you sit down next to you, he pats the ground with his paw until you rub his ear, at which point he puts his paw on your arm and starts licking your hand or arm. I could write all day about his litany of quirks, like how he doesn’t eat his food until I tell him its okay to eat, or how he’ll half jump on my bed and force me to haul him up the rest of the way by his booty. But I feel like I’ve invaded enough of his privacy. I should have asked him if he was okay with me writing all of this, come to think of it.
Our Journey Nears Its End
I’m writing this blog because Cam’s age is catching up to him. He’ll be 11 years old soon, 77 in dog years, or maybe not. That’s about what the lifespan for labs is. He’s been struggling with stairs for months now. He stands there and looks at them for minutes before slowly making his way up or down. He pants a lot, not wheezing or showing any signs of repository illness, just panting. I believe this is a sign that he’s suffering from arthritis. He doesn’t have the same energy he did even a few months ago. He’s slowing down, sleeping more and more.
Cam is the fourth dog I’ve had. I know all the signs. When I was a kid we had a dog named Casey. I couldn’t write this whole blog without mentioning her. I’ll never forget the day we lost her. My parents took her to the vet and had to have her put down while I was in school. I was mad. Mad they did it without me, but even more mad they let her go like that. I thought she had years, or at least months left to go. It wasn’t until we had to put Max down that I understood why it had to be this way. You can’t let them suffer. When the time comes, you have to be ready. Now that I’m older, I know I am. Losing Max and Jake this way was tough, but we know we made the right decision.
It’s never easy, but I know losing Cam in particular is going to hurt. He’s my best friend. People come and go in my life, I can count the number of friends I keep on one hand. Cam has been the one constant. From the rough years of 2014 and 2015, to the boon I had in my career in 2016 to 2019, to the horror of 2020 and 2021, the better years of 2022 to 2024, to the awfulness of 2025, which might have been the worst year of my life.
I have no idea what I’m going to do when that time comes. It’s always been my great regret that I haven’t been able to get him a little brother, like Casey, Max, and Jake had. I never had the money to keep two dogs at once, much less the space. I’m preparing myself for that day as best I can, but there’s only so much you can do. Until then, I’m going to spend as much time with him as I can, and enjoying every second.
