Happy Birthday to My Babies

Happy Birthday, Babies
April 26, 2012

Today, April 26, is the birthday of not one, but two of the best dogs that ever lived- my first Gordon Setter Holly (Shilo Acres Holiday Magic CD CGC) and Jay (Froya’s Wish Upon a Star).

I got Holly on June 11, 1982. I had decided I wanted a show dog about two years earlier, and went ‘breed shopping’ at a local dog show. The Gordons had just come out of the ring and when I saw the best of breed winner standing there, looking adoringly up at his handler, tail gently waving, I felt like I had had the air knocked out of me. He was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen. That dog was, eventually, Holly’s sire, Am/Can CH Scotland’s Eagle of Jayvanna.

Holly was born an old soul; she was so very serious, even as a puppy. I don’t remember housebreaking her, it seemed at 8 weeks, she just knew. She was a gentle soul who wanted to mother everything. Tiny kittens, baby birds, Holly cared for them all.

She was my first show dog; she never finished her championship, due to my incompetence as a handler, but in the obedience ring, she shined. She was ranked #2 in the nation in novice obedience.

She was the mother of my first litter, she was my soul mate.

I lost Holly to cancer on June 19 (the day after my own birthday) 1992. I miss her terribly still.

Then there was Jay. I was active with the Evansville Obedience Club in 1998, and one of my friends got a little Papillon named Ace. I fell in love with him. I had been looking at smaller breeds, and before Ace, had it narrowed down to wither a Papillon or a Cavalier King Charles; Ace sealed it. I wanted a Pap. I found Jay in the classified ads in Dog World; his owner was having health problems and was scaling her kennel back. He was 18 months old, and she sent me a picture of him; his sparkly little eyes stole my heart and Jay became mine.

We met half way at a rest area almost to St Louis; when she brought him to me, he was a little scrap of a dog with his tail tucked. He wanted nothing to do with me. But when I looked at his papers and say his birthday was the same as Holly’s, I just knew it would work out.

It was not instantaneous. It took about two weeks for the change. He his in the corner and if I tried to pick him up, he would nip at me. After two weeks of this, I had had it, and decided he was to go back. I went into my father’s den and called his breeder, asking if she would take him back, my heart breaking, tears streaming. She assured me she would, and while we talked, I looked up to see Jay coming down the hall toward me. He came into the den- something he had NEVER done before, stood up with his front feet on my knee and kissed my hand. I told his breeder and said I would give it another week.

From that day forward, Jay was MY DOG in a way no other dog had ever been or ever will be agin. I was his entire world. He was my constant shadow, went everywhere with me. He liked other people, and was highly offended if someone walked past him and did not say hello, but in the end, I was really all he needed.

In 2007, Jay, only 10, very young for a Papillon, developed congestive heart failure. He was on medication, but it was too far advanced, and I lost him on Nov. 24 that year. He died in my arms, staring into my face, he was fighting death with everything he had in his tiny body until I told him it was OK, he could go. At that moment, he relaxed nd I felt his spirit leave him.

So… happy birthday, my babies. Mama loves you both fiercely with every breath that I take.

Well.
This is the second good cry I’ve had this morning. First, reading about Denver, and now reading about your babies.
I need a nap…

Oh, and I wish them both a happy birthday, also. I can see they were loved!

Thank you Nonacetone. I really appreciate your thoughts. They really were good… no, GREAT dogs.

To the great dogs we have known! Good boys and girls all.

Agreed Sailboat! What woould our lives be like without our beloved dogs? (and cats, and horses and birds and rabbits, etc etc etc)

It’s not a life I would want to live.

PapSett - I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about losing my Afghan hound. He was my dog, the first out of a line of family dogs to be mine. And he was my boy. I’d have to sneak out of the house to go to school because he’d bark until I got back if he saw me leave. When I lost him at age 14 (an old age for afghans), I had recurring dreams, heart-rending dreams where he’d come to the door, come in and walk right past me, not acknowledging my presence (which he* never* did, I was always the North to his compass). After about 4 months, I adopted Kate from the HUmane Society. Kate was a dobe X pointer cross. That night, I had the dream with Siddhartha again, only this time he walked to me and put his head in my lap. That was the last time he visited me in my dreams.

StG

Happy Birthday to your babies. I have my grand dogs visiting, and they sure bring life to the house. I haven’t had dogs of my own since I was little; I’m not good with loss.

Oh StG… that is heartbreaking. I have dreams about many of my past pets too. I like to think of them as visits.

And Pai325… I totally understand not being good with the loss of a pet. BELIEVE ME I understand. But when I weigh the love and pleasure they give to the pain of loss… the love & pleasure win every time.

Happy birthday, little ones.