My Beloved Lucy

Here's a photo of my beloved English Setter, Lucy, taken a couple of years ago. She's in the great bird-hunting grounds of the beyond. She would have been 14 in May. Last night we had to have her euthanized after she began violently seizuring. Thankfully, my son witnessed it and was able to call us downstairs. It was just after 11 p.m., and we had just gone to bed.

(Though much was disturbing about the evening, hearing the fear and anguish in my son's voice was almost as terrifying as watching my dog in a violent fit.)

(I textured the background as there was sidewalk garden hose in the background.)

I write today's blog to rejoice this special dog's life (not to grieve her death), and to share some of that joy with others who also are animal lovers.

One Christmas, my husband gave me this AKC book. It was one of those gifts that you open and you say to yourself, "Why did he get me this?" (You think that you are saying this to yourself, but your displeasure is clearly apparent). I have subsequently read that book cover to cover. Every breed that the AKC recognized (at the time of their 19th edition), I have read about. What became apparent to me was that our surviving was very dependent on the relationship that we have with these extraordinary animals who have been bred over the years to have very specific traits.

Strip away your modern conveniences, and think about if you lived 100+ years ago. If you lived on a farm, you'd have to hunt, fish and farm, otherwise, you wouldn't eat. A dog was a helpmate and loyal companion. With their nose and ears (I don't think their eyes are much better than ours), they'd alert you to danger before it pounced on you. They'd point, burrow, track or bay their way toward securing you a meal. Likely they warmed many a family during bitter cold nights. They would defend you with their lives instinctively (even if you were a curmudgeonly niggardly soul who didn't deserve it). You'd depend on them to walk with your kids to the school house and know that they would be protected.

So my puzzlement over the gift turned to wonderment (after pausing briefly in the chasm of embarrassment for my initial ingratitude). If you love dogs, its a neat book to have to read about the other breeds. We find that when we have people over, it invariably comes out. The first English Setter recognized by the AKC was "Adonis" in 1878. This was also the year that the Gordon and Irish Setters were recognized ("Bank" and "Admiral", respectively in case you are asked in a game show). Here's what the AKC says of the English Setter:

"The English Setter has retained its popularity since its introduction to this country primarily because of its usefulness and beauty. As a result of intelligent breeding it has been brought to a high state of perfection. . . The mild, sweet disposition characteristic of this breed along with the beauty, intelligence, and aristocratic appearance it makes in the filed and in the home has endeared it both to the sportsmen as well as lovers of a beautiful, active, and rugged outdoor dog. A lovable disposition makes it an ideal companion; it is, however, a dog that requires considerable exercise and therefore is better suited to ownership in the suburbs than in the city."

"General Appearance: An elegant, substantial and symmetrical gun dog suggesting the ideal blend of strength, stamina, grace and style."

(How I wish that someone would ascribe the above description to ME--though I think that my husband finds me useful and beautiful.)

Lucy was all of those things and more. My husband described her last night as we got into the bed the second time after returning at 2. a.m. that she was the best friend he has ever had (and he has many friends, and I was not insulted by that statement). She came from a line of "some-bodies"; her mother's name was Pretty Girl. We paid $50 for her to cover her shots. The man who owned her, Denver, worked with my mother, so we received this gorgeous dog for a pittance.

We had the ideal home for her with 6.5 acres, and other nearby acreage where she roamed free, as a great dog such as this should do. We have this creek bottom in the back (it's covered with ferns in the summer and if you are scared of snakes like I am, it is a terrible place to be), and her beautiful coat was always sullied from the fine silt from her hunting grounds back there. Her elegantly feathered tail and legs always matted from mud and burrs. But she was happy. She was happiest when adorned in her mud she was also resting peacefully on the sofa. No matter how often we disciplined her, she would always sneak up there. When she was young, she could lithely jump off as she heard us get up to come downstairs. As she was older, she could only stiffly get down and was always half on/half off when caught. Over the last year or so, she had been mostly off the sofa, given that she was stiff and couldn't get up. However, two nights ago, Mark caught her up there (disciplining her was long ago abandoned).

Her best dog friend in life was my neighbor's collie, Dusty. They were inseparable, until Dusty's death. Even with our other dogs, she was never "close" just dominant. Occasionally, Cleo, a basset hound from "across the way" would swim across Tim's pond to play with Lucy and Dusty. Cleo was hysterical...she'd been running ferociously with her low center of gravity, baying BA-ROOH, BA-ROOH. As she would make sharp turns, her ears would drag and she'd step on them causing her to take a hilarious tumble or two.

I still remember when she came into heat--a surprise. Dogs I have never, ever seen in my life were all around. We had to create a barrier to the deck, for dogs were jumping over the gate. The barrier was effective, but dogs were literally chewing on it. My daughter ran upstairs "Mommy, Mommy, there's another dog hurting Lucy. " It was a gorgeous boxer who had jumped the deck gate. Lucy did not look like she was in any pain, and of course I had to explain it. I had her spayed soon thereafter. She had nine puppies in her womb. I cannot even begin to imagine what parentage--I cannot fathom what a boxer-bird dog would look like.

Once, she was run over by Toyota truck. It was her fault--chasing it and then running right in front of it. The poor people were very upset. We assured them that it was not their fault. I took her to the same vet as was her final visit. She was suffering from shock, bruised heart, and a dangerous hematoma under her front arm pit. She survived, but we always joked that she looked a little wracked. Another time she managed to get a treble hook stuck in her mouth. She was at out neighbor's pond, and the next thing you know there was this horrific yelping. She came immediately to us dragging a fishing rod. By that time one barb was fully embedded. She sat patiently and allowed us to cut the other two barbs prior to going into the vet.

English Setters have two speeds: stop and go. There is no in between. When I used to run on the fire-break trail behind my home (my concession on turning forty and trying to transition the gap between being a nerd to being a partial athlete), Lucy and Greta (setter mix) would run with me. Lucy would always run ahead and continue to double back to ensure that she could always see me. I was grateful for her going ahead because of snakes. I figured she'd scare them or at the very least be snake bait. On warm days, they would find a muddy puddles along the way and flop down like canine crocodiles biting at the water and cooling off. We'd scare up deer and wild turkeys on occasion. I always admired their easy gate and elegant carriage, as I labored along with heavy legs and heaving chest (I pegged my heart rate monitor on that trail!).

It's been about 4 years since I stopped running, but I would still walk the trail. When she'd see me get my trail shoes on she would shake all over in excitement. Nothing was more dear to that dog than going on the trail. Recently, we took a few trail walks with Macy (the Chumenator) and my neighbor's dog, Lacey. (Lacey, Macy, and Lucy...go figure how they could distinguish their names). The two younger dogs (5 & 6 months) would follow behind Lucy who still at her advanced age could jog effortlessly. She was clearly the lead dog, and the youngsters were cherishing their romp on the trail with her.

Last evening, before her terrible seizures, I had given each of my dogs the last bones off of the rib roast from New Year's. I made sure that hers was laden with meat. In fact, my husband was grousing about the mess that it was making on the floor. I literally said to him..."she's not going to be with us much longer (due to her age, I was not having any premonitions), and I'll clean it up." Within five hours she was gone.

I'm grateful that we were able to have her as part of our lives for almost 14 years. Last night was considerably hard on my son who turns 16. This is the dog that he has known almost all of his life. He was in the back seat with her, comforting her as best he could, as we raced to the vet which was 30 minutes away. It's nice to have Macy, who is a bouncy youngsters (not that it isn't nice to have my other dogs, but they are geriatric as well). All she wanted to do when she came as a new member to this house was snuggle up to her "big dog friends".
Lucy was none too snuggly, but Macy was persistent and managed to sneak a snuggle as you see here.





















Our youngsters help buoy us when the old-timers pass whether we are talking about dogs or people.