07-25-2008, 03:48 PM
Patches was dead. Our beloved Australian Shepherd had herded us for fourteen years, from Arizona, to Reno, to rural Nevada. I called her in from the cold outside and she staggered toward me-obviously dying. She died in our arms, my husband and I cradling her and telling her how much she was loved. We buried her under a cedar tree next to the large window wall at the south of the house, where we could easily see her resting place.
In the following days, we felt her loss acutely, and shed many tears when we thought of her. We talked of getting a new puppy, but our hearts weren’t ready. My husband, David, was building the house, and spent his days alone in the midst of our thirty acres at the house site. One week after Patches died, he called me at work and asked "When did you sneak that dog in here?"
Genuinely confused, I asked what he was talking about, and he explained: A young German Shepherd had just appeared at his ladder. He was working on the second floor siding, and when he climbed down, there she was, lying at the foot of the ladder. The dog followed him, closely guiding my husband up and down stairways, waiting at the foot of the ladder when he climbed, and staying next to him when he walked. Now, our house is in the middle of thirty wooded, hilly acres. The main road is fifteen hundred feet away around several bends and behind hills. There is no view of the house from the road. The surrounding properties are equally large and isolated, and range land-thousands of open acres-border the back of the property. Clearly the dog wasn't just passing by when she spotted David and decided to call.
David walked down the hill to the road, looking to see if any searchers were trying to find the dog. There were none, but the dog walked close to David's side, sitting when he paused, "leading" him when he moved, and watching over him for the remainder of the day. When I returned from work, the dog came to me, and spent the evening lying at my feet with her head on my toes.
We planned to place an ad in the paper the next day, hoping (almost) that the owner would claim this obviously trained guide dog. At about midnight however, she whimpered to go outside. I arose, let her out, and she sat on the porch. She looked to the right-the south-and walked away. We never saw her again, but she came when we needed her most.
Here's to a full belly, a heavy purse....and a light heart.
In the following days, we felt her loss acutely, and shed many tears when we thought of her. We talked of getting a new puppy, but our hearts weren’t ready. My husband, David, was building the house, and spent his days alone in the midst of our thirty acres at the house site. One week after Patches died, he called me at work and asked "When did you sneak that dog in here?"
Genuinely confused, I asked what he was talking about, and he explained: A young German Shepherd had just appeared at his ladder. He was working on the second floor siding, and when he climbed down, there she was, lying at the foot of the ladder. The dog followed him, closely guiding my husband up and down stairways, waiting at the foot of the ladder when he climbed, and staying next to him when he walked. Now, our house is in the middle of thirty wooded, hilly acres. The main road is fifteen hundred feet away around several bends and behind hills. There is no view of the house from the road. The surrounding properties are equally large and isolated, and range land-thousands of open acres-border the back of the property. Clearly the dog wasn't just passing by when she spotted David and decided to call.
David walked down the hill to the road, looking to see if any searchers were trying to find the dog. There were none, but the dog walked close to David's side, sitting when he paused, "leading" him when he moved, and watching over him for the remainder of the day. When I returned from work, the dog came to me, and spent the evening lying at my feet with her head on my toes.
We planned to place an ad in the paper the next day, hoping (almost) that the owner would claim this obviously trained guide dog. At about midnight however, she whimpered to go outside. I arose, let her out, and she sat on the porch. She looked to the right-the south-and walked away. We never saw her again, but she came when we needed her most.
Here's to a full belly, a heavy purse....and a light heart.