From the moment we first saw him, we fell in love. Perhaps it
was the big brown eyes that followed our every move. Maybe it was
the smile and happy way he greeted us no matter how the day had
gone.
From the moment we first saw him, we fell in love. Perhaps it was the big brown eyes that followed our every move. Maybe it was the smile and happy way he greeted us no matter how the day had gone.
He was calm by nature, allowing few things to rattle him. He loved going for walks and was always ready, rain or shine.
When our children were young he was protective, yet seemed to know when it was time to let go. When something was on his mind, he felt free to talk about it. We never understood the words, but almost always understood what he meant. His body language was easier to read. A sad lowering of the ears or a good wag of the tail spoke volumes.
Dodger entered our lives 13 years ago. His mother was a purebred collie. His father was unknown. A neighbor’s Labrador retriever was the suspected dad. We answered a newspaper advertisement for free collie mix puppies. The owners had two purebred collie females that both had mixed litters, for a total of 19 puppies. After careful consideration, we chose Dodger. He was named after the character in “Oliver Twist,” the artful Dodger.
Like many puppies, he was able to whisk away slippers, toys and other miscellaneous items in the wink of an eye. We already had a Dalmatian named Lucky. Dodger instantly loved his big brother Lucky. The two were quickly inseparable. They spent hours running up and down the acre yard, playing a variety of doggie games.
Lucky was the family ambassador. He felt it was his job to entertain everyone who came over. Dodger was the quieter brother. He would approach people he knew in a friendly manner. Strangers were given a once-over and approached with caution.
The only time he ever showed aggression was when he felt one of his human family was at risk from a stranger. Then he would place himself between the stranger and his family member as if to say, “Go ahead, give it a try.”
And for all his protective ways, he was the gentlest dog I’ve ever had the privilege of sharing my life with. There was a calmness, a sense of peace around Dodger. If one of us felt sad, Dodger would let us hug his big shaggy head and have a good cry.
Lucky on the other hand always felt inclined to give out kisses and try to joke us into a good mood. It was nearly impossible to be unhappy around these mismatched doggie brothers.
And brothers they were. We wouldn’t dream of taking one out without the other. On the few occasions we did, the dog left behind would pace and fret until everyone returned home. Once they were reunited, the brothers would charge out back for a good run up and down the property again.
Then last summer Lucky became very ill. We knew there would come a time when he had to be put down. Dr. Wilson, our wonderful veterinarian, told me I would know when it was time. He was right, I did.
Dodger never quite recovered from the death of his beloved big brother. He seemed lost much of the time. We thought about getting another puppy to keep him company, but decided it would be almost cruel. Puppies are demanding with their boundless energy, and Dodger was slowing down. Instead, we gave him lots of extra attention, showering him with treats. Until last week when Dodger started to die.
Once again Dr. Wilson and his staff showed wonderful caring and compassion as we said our goodbyes. My daughter and I stroked Dodger as he passed from this world to the next.
I like to think he was greeted by Lucky, who immediately showed him where they would sleep and where the good food was.
And for the first time in 28 years, our family is without a canine companion. Dogs can be noisy, messy and demanding. They are also incredibly loving.
The passing of Dodger and Lucky has left a huge hole in our family, and many wonderful memories in our hearts.
Cindy Brown is a Free Lance correspondent. Her column appears every Monday.
