He was named after the city we lived in when I was little. I started asking for a dog when I was two years old, basically as soon as I could string the words to form the sentence together. My mom told me I could have one when I was ten, so I shut up until I was ten and she was forced to get one for me.
Cairo was kind of an enormous, anti-social asshole. He bit people he didn't know, and growled at everyone and rolled in every dead thing he could possibly find. And when my Mom and I used to walk him over to a Starbucks and go inside to get a drink and left him tied up outside, we used to find crowds outside the Starbucks doors because he tried to bite everyone who would try to get inside.
He also liked to steal from me. He would find coins; dimes, nickles, pennies, sometimes even loonies and toonies, and steal them and drop them in his food bowl. Like he was saving up for a new house or something.
But he could also be the sweetest thing in the world when he wanted to be. He would play catch for hours and hours, and he knew how to catch the tennis ball right out of the air as soon as you threw it, which always impressed everyone who we showed it to. When he was in a chilled out mood, he was obsessed with getting cuddled and loved and would wag his tail until his whole body vibrated.
He always sort of reminded me of me. A stubby little jerk with a good heart.
I'll never forget how he hopped through the snow in winter like a rabbit because he was too small to walk, or how incredibly, contagiously excited he could get over playing fetch with a stick.
I won't forget training him, or the countless hours I spent walking him, or the stories and characters he's inspired.
He was my first dog and I will always love him and be proud to have called him my friend. He was without a doubt, the quirkiest little canine ever to have lived. And I honestly wouldn't have had it any other way.
Aww... he looks so sweet! I am very sorry. May he rest in peace in a doggy heaven full of bones and firehydrants... Every night he sleeps on a cloud and looks down at you longingly, holding his leash in his mouth waiting for the day that you will once again take him for a walk. Don't worry, he is never too far away.