I have had, to say the least, somewhat of a love affair with dogs since I was a little boy. I don’t ever remember not having a canine companion. Dogs have been and continue to be, such a vital part of my life. I cannot imagine not having a dog or five……
I got my first birddog when I was nine years old and my first retriever when I was a young teenager. I have owned hunting dogs for almost fifty years. Having birddogs is as important as breathing for me. I honestly don’t think I could breathe without having one.
Having owned as many dogs as I have over the years, I have also had to bury a whole bunch of them. It’s part of the price we pay in order to have dogs. They don’t live long enough, but I think they live as long as they are supposed to.
I am thankful for every single one I’ve had the pleasure of looking after and loving. Invariably, when one dies there will be another to take its place. They have all been different in their own unique way, but rest assured, I have loved them all immensely.
About twelve years ago, I was in need of a retriever puppy, a Lab of course. Let me interject that I love all dogs, but I have an affinity for Labs and Pointers. We suit each other and work well together. I began my search for a new puppy without much success.
Finally, I found a Lab puppy about an hour away from Midville. At the time, my twelve-year-old nephew had come here to live, so I took him along to get the puppy. He had never had a puppy and was thrilled to be going.
She was an extremely well-bred puppy that came from excellent hunting stock. I was excited and so was my nephew. We went to the breeder to pick out our new puppy. After I assessed the litter, I turned to my nephew and asked him, “which one?” He pointed to a stocky Chocolate puppy, I said, “well, pick her up and put her in the truck”.
I paid the lady for the puppy, and we started heading back to Midville. That fat ball of fur immediately went to sleep in my nephew’s lap. The puppy was content and my nephew was over the moon. When we made it back to Midville, we went to show my parents who were both dog lovers.
My daddy was at home in a swing bed, his time on this earth was drawing to a close. I put that puppy in bed with him and my daddy’s face lit up. That puppy licked him and daddy loved every minute of it. I was so thankful he got to meet her before he left this earth.
I immediately began working on training with that beautiful puppy. She was highly intelligent, but she had no interest in retrieving, no interest in swimming and my heart sank all the way to the bottom. I was crestfallen, I didn’t understand.
I named her Hattie Mae in honor of a lady that had lived on a friend’s farm. The name suited her well. She was so smart, so loving and yet she still refused to retrieve. The light came on in my head, that puppy came to me, but she was meant for my mama. There was no fighting it, I knew it.
In my daddy’s absence, Hattie became my mama’s constant companion. It was without a doubt, a match made in heaven. I began to look for yet another puppy. I found one over in South Carolina. Once again, I took my nephew along to pick out the new puppy.
It was a boy, well built with a head full of sense and a ton of personality. He was as black as an ace of spades. He was extremely well bred. I was once again excited at the prospect of training a new retriever.
His registered name was Ogeechee’s Sir Edward William, but around Midville, he was just Ed Willie. He was a quick learner with a sack full of drive and intensity. His training progressed rapidly and I was ecstatic. He was retrieving birds flawlessly during his first season. I could not have been more proud!
One morning Willie went missing. I scoured the neighborhood, the countryside, anywhere I could think of nothing. In all of my life I’ve never had a dog disappear like that. I held on to hope and prayed, but I never saw Willie again.
The only thing I could figure was that he was stolen. I had to accept the fact that he was gone. Lord knows I loved that dog! I struggled with not knowing and I cried, I cried a lot. Ultimately, I did the only thing I know to do, get another puppy.
I found a litter not far from home and went to pick one out on a Saturday morning. A friend rode with me and I picked out a black ball of fur to take back home. She was six weeks old and full of energy. I put her on the front seat, and she climbed on top of the console and went to sleep.
My friend commented that obviously she knew she was home and she was. I named her after a lady that lived on another friend’s farm. I had that name stored in my head for years, but it never seemed to fit any other puppy. The name was meant for her. I knew the first time I called her “Stella” that it was her name.
She was smart. She was beautiful. She was so easy to train. I swear I believe she could read and write. She was the most loving thing, and we shared a tremendous love between us. She was an exceptional dog and retrieved flawlessly on land and in water. I was soon spoiled because she was on autopilot, I never had to say a word to her, she just knew what to do.
After mama died, I took possession of Hattie and put her in the pen next to Stella. They were the best of buddies because Hattie helped to raise Stella as a puppy. Every afternoon I would let Hattie out and then I would let Stella out. Stella came to me every single day without fail to lick me in the face.
The week before last, on Thursday afternoon I let them both out to play, of course Stella had to come lick me in the face. She started off to catch up with Hattie, but she stopped and turned around. She came back to lick me one more time. She had never done that.
On Friday morning, I went to the kennels and when I looked at Stella, I knew. I just knew. It was a look I’ve seen many times and unfortunately, I knew what it meant. A week ago today, I buried my beloved Stella. It has hurt me terribly.
The truth is, I’m crying now as I write these words, but I know what has to be done. There is only one thing I can do. The same thing I’ve done many times and that is get another puppy. The circle of life will continue and there will be a little black ball fur licking me in the face once again.
