A Young Dog And The Christmas Minecraft Incident

This has been one of the hardest weeks I've had in a long time, and it's why I've not been so active lately on Rewinder. I'm still recovering from a chest infection, and Wednesday saw me say goodbye to our beloved family dog, Dizzy, after nearly 13 years with us. He'd been with us since he was eight weeks old, and I can feel myself going through various stages of grief.

Named after Dizzee Rascal (yes, really), Dizzy was one of the most energetic dogs I've ever known in his prime. Beautifully shaggy, adored people, a minor menace, loved his ducky, and a constant fixture in game nights with friends during my university years and beyond. As one friend puts it, the boy loved “compromising my personal space” during Mario Party. Was it tactical? Who can say, but those nights weren't the same if he was away elsewhere.

I've taken comfort these last couple of days in sharing stories about him, as well as listening to stories from others about their pets. One that will always stick with me is Christmas 2014, when he was nearly two years old. We'd learned not to leave electronics or other items out. I remember losing chargers and Heroes of Ruin on the 3DS. But as we got closer to Christmas, the tree went up and various presents went beneath it. In hindsight, a tactical error when he could freely roam.

One morning, we got up to find several wrapped gifts had been shredded during the night. No guesses as to who caused it, but one of these gifts was a PS4 copy of Minecraft. Clearly, the boy was protesting Notch's politics, or maybe the concept of voxel games as a whole. Hard to say when he'd mostly just bark, but a stand was made all the same. The disc itself was fine though, just the case was damaged. Why get another when the main item still works, right?

Across the years, I eventually replaced the battered case because it couldn't hold the disc anymore, though I kept the tattered box art as a funny story. It sits on my shelf just like any other game, and now it's a permanent reminder of his young shenanigans.

I wanted to put something into words about him here because I'm finding talking about him helps; a decade on, Mum and the rest of us can only laugh about it all now. It's one of many memories I'll hold on to, and while I'll miss him a lot, I keep reminding myself that the right thing is rarely the easy thing. Rest well, Dizzy. We all love you.