On May 11, 2017, I dispatched Kevin to the southern terminus of the Pacific Crest Trail, and that night my power went out at my house. While waiting for the power to come back on, I could hear the utility workers in my back yard. Understand that I have no overhead power lines near my house, nor do I live on the corner. There was no reason for these men to be in my back yard. The next time I talked to Kevin I told him what happened, how it made me feel, and that I was going to get a dog.
On May 15, 2017, I went with a friend to the local animal shelter to look at the dogs. The next day, I went back with another friend and Abby found me. Kim said Abby watched me with a hunger in her eyes to please me in anything she did. I filled out the paperwork, paid the fee, and brought her home. Well, first I went to the pet store and picked up some necessary items, like dog food, water bowl, Greenies, and a few other things to make life for Abby more comfortable. She loved riding in the car, she loved being with me regardless of where I was, she loved going for walks, she just flat out loved me.
Abby had a few tells to let me know she was happy--rolling in the grass, jumping up and down, or just running around, and last but not least, her tail curled over her back. You could ask her if she wanted to go with you, and she'd jump up--never putting her paws on you, just jumping, tucking her front paws close to her body. Once you let her out of the house, she'd run straight to the car, ready to jump in.
She was quite the alpha, but in a rather quiet way. When I first got Abby, Kim had a dog that was about six inches taller and maybe 20-25 lbs heavier. Abby would quietly growl Kim's dog off her bed and take it away from her. She was also a herding dog and would herd me toward whatever she wanted--the pantry where her treats were, the door to go outside, or to even go for a walk. Once I had a friend come over with her children, Abby barked at the children for the whole hour they visited, then when it was time for them to go, she herded the children into the car. When one of the children tried to get out, she wouldn't let that child out. She was pretty funny at times.
Kevin was on the Pacific Crest Trail when Abby first came to live with us. He came home for a short while when the trail became impassible. Before I went to the air port, I got some plain hamburgers for Kevin to feed Abby as a way of introduction. Closer to home, Kevin decided to get a sandwich at Arby's. He took a piece of bacon off his sandwich and fed that to Abby. During the week that he was home he often fed Abby food from his plate. On his way back to the trail, Kevin said, "We've got to stop feeding Abby our food." Abby became a first class groaker. Any time we were eating chips or crackers, she was right there to share.
Over time, Kevin became disgruntled with the food Abby was eating and decided she needed "real" food, so he began cooking for her, ground beef and rice, ground turkey and rice, ground chicken, mashed potatoes, and the easiest to fix for her was tuna, yogurt, or cottage cheese. She never liked kibble for the first few years we had her. No matter what kind I tried, she just wouldn't eat it. She wanted canned food, so that's what she got. A couple of months ago, I was helping a friend unpack her boxes in her new house and we found some old kibble and Abby ate it right up. So for a couple of months she ate kibble happily, along with her other regular foods.
Abby loved going. . . going on walks, going in the car, going wherever I was going, it didn't matter. She would go with Kevin on his training hikes on Beezley Hill. She'd run ahead of him and then come back or she'd follow him. But one memorable time, Kevin came home without her and told me he lost her. We both went back up to the Hill to find her, I was at the south end and Kevin was at the north end. She finally came out of one of the trails with the hugest smile on her face. She was having the time of her life. It wasn't Abby sleeping in the doghouse that night, it was Kevin for letting her get lost! 😂
She loved to be petted and tolerated being brushed. Scritching behind her ears or at the base of her tail made her so happy, but belly rubs and chest rubs were her thing. Even until the day she left us getting chest rubs and belly rubs made her feel happy and loved.
She was ten years old when we got her, She had had a hard life before she came to live with us. She had lived in the basement of a house with a man with dementia. When he died, her owner, the man's daughter, moved to a smaller house and couldn't keep Abby. She was given to a neighbor who mistreated her, then gave her to someone else who already had a dog. Because of physical limitations, the woman who received Abby had to surrender her to the animal shelter, where she found us a week later. All the time we had Abby, she didn't trust men very quickly, and particularly didn't trust men with facial hair. Only in the last few months that we had her did she not react to men with facial hair (except for the lawn mower guy who had a very long beard).
The paperwork we got from the animal shelter said she was Belgian Malinois and Labrador Retriever mixed. She did do a bit of herding, but not much, however, she HATED the water. If she had to have a bath, she would resist, kicking and digging in her heels the whole way. Then she'd be disgruntled with us for at least an hour afterwards. We did do a doggie DNA test on her, and she tested to be Siberian Husky, Labrador Retriever, and Shiba Inu. Basically, she was a mutt.
If I ever left the house without her, she would let me know in no uncertain terms that kind of behavior was NOT acceptable. She would mope and pout, even though leaving her behind for a couple of hours was the best thing for her, especially if it were too hot outside. She didn't care, she wanted to be with me.
One of Abby's favorite treats was a Milk Bone dog biscuit covered in peanut butter, which was followed by a Greenie dental chew. Then we found out she liked Goldfish crackers, but too many of those upset her stomach. Learned that one the hard way.
One thing Abby learned was where all the dogs lived in the neighborhood--Larry, Jake, Opie, Gemma, Buddy, and Blue--and who had treats for her. Because I carried treats with me on our walks, all the other dogs knew they'd get a treat when they encountered Abby. Make no mistake, Abby let them all know who was boss.
In her desire to be where we were, we'd take her with us and then open the door to the car and connect her leash so she could get air and stay comfortable without running away. A couple of memorable times, she got loose and sat by the door of the business where we were until we came out. One time, it was at church and the usher who was counting attendance wrote down how many people were in the sanctuary, the nursery, and one dog by the door. She made an impression.
She LOVED LOVED LOVED snow. Being a double-coated dog, colder temps were her heaven. She would rather sleep on the bare floor than on her cushy beds. But, oh my goodness, when it snowed, she was Queen of the Mountain on our snow drifts. Snow was her happy place!
Lately when Abby wanted my attention, she'd use her snoot to bump my arm. Usually that meant she wanted to go outside, unless she wanted a dog biscuit or her green chew instead. She could be relentless in gaining your attention.
She liked to crawl under Kevin's legs, especially if he had them propped up on something while he was sitting on the sofa. One time Kevin had his ball cap on his knee. Abby knocked it off and looked so proud of herself.
About two years ago, Abby started limping and wasn't her usual graceful self. We stopped taking her for walks, thinking it was a sprain or something that needed rest. She became depressed, so we took her to the vet to find out he didn't really know what was going on with her, but he guessed she might have a degenerative spinal condition. He said to do what makes her happy, she didn't seem to be in pain. As time went on, she became more clumsy and more content to lie down and rest. One of the things we started noticing is that her tail drooped as if it were too heavy for her to carry it. Where once we could scritch just above her tail and make her so happy, it was as if she didn't feel it anymore.
Her last day started out normally--she took Kevin for an early morning walk, and visited the next door neighbor, begged treats from me, ate a full bowl of cooked ground beef, a couple of Milk Bones, and was generally having a good day. I let her out to go potty or wander around and found her at the base of the two steps leading into the patio door, unable to stand on her own. I got her up and in the house, but soon she needed to go back outside but collapsed again. When we got her in the house, she couldn't move past the kitchen. We tried to make her as comfortable as possible. She lay there for about two hours all told, sad, frustrated, and just not herself. About 4:00, she had a seizure and then started crying. Kevin was working outside raking up weeds. I hurried to get him to take Abby to the vet. We got her loaded up in the van on her "car bed" pillow and before we reached the highway she was gone. The last thing she did was one of her most favorite things to do--ride in the car with us.
How do you say good bye to someone who has been part of your life daily for five and a half years? It's been a month now and I miss her presence in the house, the jangle of the tags on her collar, her staring at me when she thought I'd stayed in bed late enough, her snoot nudges, and even her silent but deadly farts.
