RedDogMemories

My Dear Red Dog left me five years ago today. I've mourned her absence every day since, in one way or another. Her softest domed head, her honest, wise eyes. Her chin, pressed to my knee, or my wrist, or my calf. Red Dog never let me out of her sight, if she could help it. The feeling was mutual.

When I first started taking her for walks in the conservation area, my friends (I had two at the time) remarked on how she never went more than 20 feet ahead, before stopping to look back for me. We were made for each other.

I'd been working in the city for almost six years, and I was desperate for a furred creature through the day. My cat Simon (SIGHmon) was getting older, and had never been what you'd call a cat with a LOT of personality. His brother Jethro inherited most of the spark, in their family;) After we lost Jethro, Simon faded a little. Simon sighed, a lot, after he lost his brother.

How lucky I was to find my dog, that cold February day at the Toronto Humane Society. I'd been coached by my friends, and blithely became the owner of my rented house for an hour as the application for her adoption was processed.
Red Dog was soundless at the shelter. I looked at her in her cage, and she lay down, folded her ears back, closed her eyes, and laid her little red head on her crossed paws. I swear, she was praying I'd take her.

Random Mon Ami Tangent
I'd never trained a shelter dog. Mrs. Small's Standard Poodle, Mon Ami, had been my first attempt at dog training. I'd had a much harder time training Mrs. Small.

"OH, Bahbrah, Why on EARTh would I keep my darling on the side of the road closest to traffic? Ami can walk on whatever side of me he WantS! I want to be hit by a car before my darling dog is!" I got her logic, I did.
But after he'd tripped her up several times on snowy sidewalks, Mrs. Small very grudgingly started heeling Ami on her left side. I was worried for both of their safety, and I had to get a little, um, firm, with Mrs. Small. Mon Ami was a big, exuberant poodle.

"How on eartH will I tell him, Bahrb?"
Just tell him to heel, Mrs. Small.
"What? I can't tell him what to Do, he's his OwN dog!"
(I often heard TrickieWoo's yapping in my head, through these conversations with my darlingly ditzy neighbour.)
(that's a James Herriott reference, if you don't know who that is, never mind.)
Just tell him "Ami, Heel", Mrs. Small, and he will.
"Oh, Bahrb, I'll Try, but honestly, I never had to tell (her old GSD's) AnythinG, They just KneW!"
(Yes, the old GSD's listened to you so well, Mrs. Small, I wouldn't say aloud.)
Well, Ami doesn't know everything, yet, Mrs. Small, and if we tell him, he will listen. And you know, he did. It was the first time Mrs. Small used her "Yes, InDeeD" line, on me.
Was he well-behaved, Mrs. Small?
"Yes, IndeeD, Bahb."
Yes, indeed. She was surprised, and pleased, and a little contrite, with those few words. Especially the calling me Bahb part. She lost an "r" in her surprise.
Made My DaY, let me tell ya! Good dog, Amigo! I helped with him from a puppy.
Red Dog was no puppy when I got her.

Back to Regularly Scheduled Red Dog Memories..
Red Dog had to suffer through my newbie dog owner ignorance. My newbie vaccination over-zealousness. My reading of Kohler, after Carole Lea Benjamin. Bad choice, very bad:(
I cringe to think of some of the things I did, to "train" her. Just a very few things of course, but they will never stop rankling. Ignorance is not necessarily bliss, once the ignorance is lost.
Red Dog was incredibly quick learning. I used the longe-line method on her, and the walks on heel, everywhere I could find. Sunnybrook Park has our footsteps still worn into those amazing valleys & hills. Sadly, after she cut herself on a broken bottle, I had to stop the off-leash walks. That's when I knew I had to find a place in the country to live. It was only fair to my dog.

I adopted Red Dog after Tad Plaid had foundered the second time. My horse heart was broken again, and I needed an animal to cheer my days. Red Dog knew exactly how to do that:)

Red Dog's first meeting with Tad was auspicious. Tad HATED dogs. I had brought a friend up to ride Tad, so I could see how his movement was coming along. Red Dog came too, of course. Red Dog, let loose in the arena, made a bee-line for Tad, and dang near tripped him, in front, with her herding skills. Tad pinned his ears, shook his head and became Red Dog's instant admirer.
Tad never put a foot wrong towards her, and he'd been known to kick a dog or two, in his day. Red Dog had a LOT of courage for her size.

Red Dog and Tad had several hilarious arguments about who would get the first carrot. The expression on Tad's face the first time I gave Red Dog a carrot was priceless. Tad would pin his ears and snake/shake his head, Red Dog would mutter under her breath very quietly. Red Dog would win, as she was more polite:)

I've mentioned how Red Dog made up her own tricks. Her magic trick had to be seen to be believed. Lying on her back, she'd hold a tennis ball in her front paws. She'd lift the tennis ball up, cross her paws, and somehow drop the ball back into her mouth. She practiced that trick for years. Once she'd completely mastered it, she never did it again. Red Dog always sought out new challenges.

Stories of Red Dog are still carefully hidden in my heart. Her story wouldn't be complete without some pictures of another of Red Dog's best friends, my room-mate's cat, Pansy. Pansy wanted to be a dog. She hero-worshiped Red Dog, from the moment they met. Red Dog patiently put up with Pansy, from tiniest kitten-hood, all the way up to grown cat-dom. Pansy was a retriever and a skater. Yup, she loved to skate.

I planted a "Serviceberry" Tree in Red Dog's memory, at her burial site, on the shore of her favourite pond. Three years later, in early spring, I saw a white star hovering over Red Dog's grave. Her tree had bloomed, much sooner than expected.


Red Dog could always, AlwayS, make me smile.

To Red Dogs and Great Cats.

I'll probably keep adding to this post for a while, okay? I can't help it. I read and remember, then have to add more.
For her.
Although Blaze is sensibly reminding me she's still alive:) Better go.