When
he was young, he was impetuous, charming, jealous, and temperamental
at times. He lived to chase the lure, and to be as close to me as
he bodily could get. He played games, learned tricks, told others
how handsome and gentlemanly he was -- though he put holes in nearly
every one of my other dogs at times, who knows over what (probably
who got to be next to me...).
He wasn't a huge winner, but he was RWD at the Midwest from 9-12
in '93, and got his 1st major immediately before going out in the
field in Wichita and going BOB over FCh's for his 1st AKC field
major. He finished a month later with his second major in Albuquerque.
He wasn't coursed more, however, because he learned at that AKC
course when he lost the lure that he could effectively stop the
lure by going to the nearest pulley and yanking it out of the ground
-- and that if he then ran off with it, he could keep the coursers
at a standstill (and get a lot of laughs from the gallery) at least
until he was corraled and the pulley replaced. As entertaining as
this was, it also limited his ability to win field points.
Now, he's old. His heart isn't great, his vision isn't great, and
most of all, his neck isn't great and it's getting worse. He is
intimidated by stairs; with the right motivation - food, for example
- he can still make it up, but he cannot and will not try to go
down. He sometimes falls over when he squats to urinate, and some
days he can barely walk. He gets pain medication every day; mostly
it keeps him functional and comfortable.
In
his twilight years, he has learned how special it is to be the "out
front" dog, the "gardening dog"... He loves to lay in the shade
or rub his ears in the cool grass while we pull weeds or tend to
the many flower beds we pamper this time of year. He gets to walk
around with us each evening as we survey how the beds are doing,
and he nibbles on the long grass that grows around the edges and
smells the good smells that come up from the dirt when it's turned
over. He will still "race" (tottering as fast as his old, unsteady
legs will carry him) to the front door when he is goosed in the
bum. He will still talk back when he is sung to ("how much is that
doggie in the window..."), just like when he was a young, impetuous,
charming dog...
Nicholas is 12 1/2 -- he is failing, and I don't know how much longer
he will be with me. I hope at least through the summer, but there
are days when I don't know if it will be through the end of the
week. I think about what life will be like without him, and I almost
can't stand it. I'm writing this now in honor of him because I don't
know if, later, I will be *able* to write in memory of him. And
I wanted everyone to get a feel for what he is, even as an old dog.
Ch. Sun Run's Northern
Lights SC
Long may his light shine...
When
he was young, he was impetuous, charming, jealous, and temperamental
at times. He lived to chase the lure, and to be as close to me as
he bodily could get. He played games, learned tricks, told others
how handsome and gentlemanly he was -- though he put holes in nearly
every one of my other dogs at times, who knows over what (probably
who got to be next to me...).
In
his twilight years, he has learned how special it is to be the "out
front" dog, the "gardening dog"... He loves to lay in the shade
or rub his ears in the cool grass while we pull weeds or tend to
the many flower beds we pamper this time of year. He gets to walk
around with us each evening as we survey how the beds are doing,
and he nibbles on the long grass that grows around the edges and
smells the good smells that come up from the dirt when it's turned
over. He will still "race" (tottering as fast as his old, unsteady
legs will carry him) to the front door when he is goosed in the
bum. He will still talk back when he is sung to ("how much is that
doggie in the window..."), just like when he was a young, impetuous,
charming dog...