Its funny as your children leave home the emptiness the house feels. I wanted a dog. A housedog. A companion. My husband was less than enthusiastic about this, "We don't need another dog." I heard on the local radio "Swap & Shop" about some puppies to be given away, so I went and checked them out. There were two females, that one blond and one brown one. The blond one was the littlest and a bit more active; she came up to me and sat by me. I knew she had chosen me. I took my new companion home. Jerry came home from work and saw the tiny bundle of blond fluff and said, "Ya really did it didn't you".
We named her Heidi, and for the next
15 years she became an important part of our lives. Jerry was the "good
guy" and I was the disciplinarian. Only on occasion did he ever say
"NO" to her and when he did she was crushed. For example, Jerry had
injured his hand on a saw, and it was difficult for him to do simple tasks that
we take for granted. I heard him cry from the living room "Grace, the dogs
untying my shoe" as the puppy was tugging on the shoelace. God forbid he
said "No" to her.
As we were potty training her, we would take her outside to the grass where she would do her duty. The only problem was that the grass was deeper than her. So started the habit that she would continue most the rest of her life; peeing while balancing on her front two feet. I think she was trying to keep her back feet clean. There were several occasions on trips where people would snicker or laugh as they saw her doing her duty.
Heidi was learning her limits around the house and property but one day she went exploring with our other dog Tahoe. Tahoe came home, but Heidi did not. In tears I called the radio station and the neighborhood until a neighbor called saying, "Grace, do you have a small white dog?" Heidi came home and was scolded. She knew she had done wrong, and never left again.
I always go to bed earlier than Jerry and mostly Heidi would be at the end of the bed waiting for him. Finally she would hear the cookie jar and go out and help Jerry with his cookies and milk. She would set by his leg on the recliner and Jerry would break off a piece of cookie for her and set it on the arm. She would sniff it and then ignore it. As the cookie consumption continued, he would keep giving her pieces and she would eat them and occasionally inspect his hand and the table until there were no more cookies left, then she would eat the first piece still setting there and go back to bed. Every night was a routine of the games. There was "keep away", where Jerry and I would throw a vitamin over her until she caught it. She wouldn't eat it unless you played the game with her, and when it was time to eat it she would go to her dog bed (this is all it was used for) and eat it. Her bed was the safe zone. There was "rattlesnake" where you would hold a piece of Beggin' Strip in front of her. She wouldn't look at it directly, but at the time where she thought she had "fooled" you enough, she would snap at it. Your job was to pull it away. Eventually she would get it and on occasion she would get a bit of you. The last game was "hide-n-seek" where we hid another treat somewhere on the bed. Under the pillow, the covers, behind some books on the headboard and she would sniff them out.
Heidi dearly wanted to sleep in the bed with us, but I said no to this. Yet in the morning she would be under the covers at the foot of the bed. Finally it was discovered how she accomplished this task. In the middle of the night she would go to Jerry's side of the bed, put her front feet up and make some noise. Jerry would lift the blanket and zoom, under she would go. The old softy.
The mornings started another day full of routines. I would get up and put on my robe and go get the paper (its pretty rural here). Heidi would follow me until we were just short of the front gate. She would sit there and wait for me to come back. She learned her lesson after the last time she went exploring the neighborhood. While I read the paper, Heidi went back to bed to check on Jerry. She would lie against his side and occasionally roll and squirm. She would watch his eyes real carefully and as soon as they opened the excitement and kisses started. Sometimes Jerry would be awake and barely open his eyes and watch her. Her beady eyes would be glued on him. Sometimes if the boys were home, we would encourage her to "get Steve up" and she run down the hall and leap onto his bed would roll on his bed to wake him.
Sometime in the late afternoon she would take up residence on the sofa, looking down the hall to the door that "Daddy" would come home in. If she was outside when his truck came up the hill, she would run to greet him, he would stop the truck and open the door; she would jump in and ride up the hill with him. When Jerry finally did get home from work she would be ecstatic, running, barking and finally the "leap off the sofa's arm into your arms". She would not settle down until the leap and catch was completed. There were a few times where we would be sidetracked and the dog would leap to have no one catch her. She wouldn't care, back on the sofa she went to try again.
She loved to go "Bye-bye". Anywhere. The only bad thing to say to her as you were leaving was "Guard the house" The only problem was that whoever rescued her from being alone was her best friend. Some guard dog. This also worked to our advantage. If we were going on a trip that she couldn't go on, we would make her "Guard the house". Suzanne would stop at the house after work and be enthusiastically greeted by her, and without any difficulty would ride up to Suzanne's house for a week of "camp". Playing outside with other dogs, getting wet and dirty, lots of great fun!
She was a great traveler. Her spot to sit in the truck was right next to Jerry. If we were in the car she would ride on the back window ledge, unless it was hot, then she would be on the floor. When we would stop at restaurants and get something to eat, and always saved her a piece of meat. Whoever had the meat would be her buddy until she ate it. If you forgot to get her a treat, she would smell your breath to see what you ate.
She was a smart dog, and one time I decided to test how well she could understand me. As I was working at the kitchen sink I had places some goodies in her food dish. I said in a quiet voice to her in the living room while not looking at her, "Have you looked in your food dish?" She calmly got up and walked to the food dish and started eating.
Jerry
started hiking into some lakes in the Cascade Mountains. Heidi LOVED to go
camping with him. If you walked 3 miles in, she did 9. She would run up to a
tree sniff it then bullet past you to check out something behind you she may
have overlooked. Then back ahead again. Sometimes at the end of the
hike, her
enthusiasm worn down she, would trot ahead of Jerry, stop and look at him over
her shoulder. He would reach down and pick her up and carry her for a bit. She
knew a softy.
She
was a good camper, ate hot dogs with us, and fished with Jerry. Jerry had a
small 3 man raft and would row around these 15-acre lakes trolling for trout.
Heidi would take her place at his feet and glare at Jerry if a fish flopped on
her. One time while fishing with Steve at Blair Lake, Heidi decided she needed a
drink of water. Normally Jerry would scoop a handful of water for her. This time
she decided she could get it herself. Steve heard across the lake "OH NOOO,"
Heidi had fallen into the cold water. Jerry grabbed her by the back of the neck
and lifted her into the raft. The only problem being that the water is going to
the lowest part of the raft, right where you sit. So Jerry rowed into the shore
to the campfire to drink some coffee and dry himself. By his calculation, Heidi
could hold 2 gallons of water in her fur.
At night her sleeping spot was at the
bottom of Jerry's sleeping bag, keeping his feet warm. This was fine with him
until she needed to pee in the middle of a rainy night. Out into the darkness
she would go, arriving back a damp dog. Jerry would try to talk her into
sleeping with Steve, but she wouldn't listen. She knew where her bed was.
Another time fishing Salmon Creek, A very swift creek up in the Cascades, Jerry
had stepped out onto a rock above the water line to fish. Above the noise of the
water, he heard his mother calling him. She pointed down, and there was Heidi,
swimming for her life next to the rock he was standing on. She had tried to stay
close to him and had fallen in. Jerry reached down and rescued her from the
swift water.
Chasing things was great fun, but she
wouldn't have known what to do with anything if she had caught it. Chipmunks
were the most entertaining to watch; as they darted into a hole in a log she
would stare at it intently, as the chipmunk would climb out a top hole and watch
her. She also chased squirrels and cats. Most cats would run at first, but
eventually figure out she was all bark and no bite.
Heidi was tolerant of baths. She
would let me wash her then dry her in a towel. Once released from the towel, she
would run directly to my bedroom where she would roll around getting the bed
wet. She then ran all over the house like she was crazy, dropping one shoulder
to the ground and rubbing her face into the carpet. Then came the reluctant
brushing. As I brushed her, the growls increased. Finally done with that, I
would open her "toy drawer" and she would study and pick out a ball to
play with. We would throw it down the hall as she worked off this newfound
energy.
Sometimes,
as she was setting on Jerry's lap, Steve would torment her. One thing he would
do is pinch at her feet and her face. She would growl at him and show her teeth.
Eventually she would attack his hands with rapid teeth and all the sound effects
to make it seem as that all he would pull put would be bones. But no, never a
single injury would occur, it was part of her "tuff" act.
The other thing he would do would be to act like he was going to pet her, but never touch her. This would drive her crazy with anticipation. Yip, yowl, howl and squirm until he let her jump into his arms for some love.
Once I was setting and talking with
my friend Lorraine, and Heidi walked her normal route to get from the sofa to my
chair. This was down the length of the back of the sofa, onto the arm and onto
my chair. This time she was a bit thirsty, and Lorraine's water glass was
setting at just her height. Slurp slurp slurp. I was amazed! Lorraine lifted her
glass for Heidi and asked, "Do you want some more Heidi?" Slurps slurp
slurp was her reply. I wondered how many other times had she helped herself that
I wasn't aware of.
As age started creeping up on her, sometimes it takes us by surprise. Heidi was gifted with looking younger than her years. At 13 years of age people often thought she was a puppy. Jerry commented about her hearing going and I didn't believe him. So I decided to test her. "Goodies...bye-bye" I called to her sleeping form under the table. These were two phrases that would have evoked an eager response in her younger years. Nothing. When I repeated it louder she responded. And I thought she was ignoring me.
A hop into the recliner took two or three practice jumps to jet ready for the real one. She slept a lot more. She started having upset stomachs in the middle of the night. Jerry was wonderful with our now "old girl", and would often sleep with her on the sofa in case she started having problems. One time she was under the kitchen table and I called her for some goodies. Her head was up as it may be if she was awake. I called louder and no response from her. Jerry was setting at the table and I told him, he nudged her with his foot. Her head just fell over as if her time was done. "OH NO" I cried! No matter how ready you think you are, you just not THAT ready. Suddenly, her head popped back into a normal position. She was just sleeping, real deep. Jerry told her "Don't do that to us again!
It was time to go to the vet. Her tired old body was shutting down; she hadn't eaten much in days and wouldn't drink. She was in a groggy state, not responsive too much. We drove down to the vet and told them the time had come. As the attendant told the vet who had taken care of her for 15 years, I heard him through the door "No, not little Heidi!" The job was done and she was sent to the bridge. I returned to the car with the box. I told Jerry he was going to bury her nice and he was very understanding. The man who didn't want a dog wiped a tear from his eye too. He placed her in a spot in the corner of the property behind the shop and made a nice marker for her.
We made it 6 months without a dog, and then we found Miki. I saw Jerry behind the shop one day with his new fishing buddy under his arm. He came back into the house and told me, "I introduced her to her Aunt Heidi".
She has a lot to live up to. On to the Miki page...
If It Should Be:
The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
-- Unknown